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"grossing" poems
Baby, free me from the terror of waking up and finding Not you near me again and the denial of your existence Is choking and suffocating me because I simply can't say no to a thought that drives me thinking Of you, again and again, what a hopeless dreamer I am, I know you'll never keep in your heart someone like me, but baby, free me.
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Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 8:35 AM UTC
This poem is so cheesy I'm grossing myself out
It’s common in the human race, They helped their son to death. Might as well have covered his face And robbed him of his breath. They gave him everything he wanted The dear child of their hearts. But their bestowal of gifts, a bit vaunted Were about them from the start. The parents wanted everyone to see How well they treated their kid. But when it came time to say ‘no’ They went someplace and hid. They ironed out the bumps in the road So the kids never had to learn What they should do when that road Takes a sudden calamitous turn. So, the kids, ignoring all good sense Listened to their peers instead And started finding external means To fill up the inside of their head. They learned life could be postponed And so could ever growing up. They could find some kind excitement In something rolled or in a cup. And who was there to stop their plunge Into a kind of lost weekend life? It certainly wasn’t their father for sure Or his confrontation-free wife. No, they didn’t want to **** the kid off Because that would mean strife. Let’s just leave the kid alone and watch As she meets her demise over life. It all started out when parents chose to Become their kid’s best friends. So, who was there to teach them things Like hard work and discipline? Who showed them the rewards to be found In learning to postpone gratification When they were sitting in front of the TV Grossing out on mental ************
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Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 7:21 PM UTC
HELPING THEM TO DEATH
Time is so valuable We don't stop for long We barley sleep anymore And yet Netflix is the top grossing app
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Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
We don't even read long poems
Time with means Real routes of simplicity True to our senses, and the irony we glean As shrewd as a call to it is, the role of indemnity Places we hid, a source of bright news Tastes of humility and dour forces, to live With a grossing guess, the exaction of an excuse Well to say, the known desire of almost, even and is Torture to an average soul, waiting in another's light Tradition and the marvel of success, a toil in cares So far away from the risen more, right now, might The collapse of heaven, in our hands be the gift that fairs? Weak treasure, in the name of a doting virtue Taken for a fool every time, if a lip has seen it all In the grip of enemy's sublime, or the muster of curiosity Known to be, the guidance of essences and riches, of the fall... Worthy little key, saving me from a lucky reality Paces of in and its atone, to live once more, is my stead The count of urges and the jump to sight's welling in heat? Of a new friendship of labor, if not the callous reproach, we saw us, in the cares we lead...
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Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 3:21 PM UTC
Seeing Is Believing, Moment's Alone
You see the lies slide off his tongue, Like that bald, bearded singer guy slid into her DM, The bespectacled minister of mendacity, And cyber media in a frenzy over their announced engagement; We have been here before, History making a case for repeating itself, The curious darkness that enveloped the airport, And the magic of that Dubai exchange of vows; It is two years on this train, The tracks heading off into the distance, The origins of this journey we know, But halfway there the engine sings a different tune; After holding Nigeria spell bound by their chemistry, On the sequel of the highest grossing movie in Africa, We are called to witness the crystallisation of a well hidden romance, It's always beautiful to behold, something magical; So here we are on the eves of two great milestones, A delayed love story playing out real time, And a commanding life hanging in the balance, Will the past be dragged into the future
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May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
GHEN! GHEN!!