"guessing" poems
As beautiful as the famed city of Atlantis
Gloriously flourishing in her perfection
There is a place where my soul and heart is
A perfect place without grief or deception
Where my heart is always merry
And peace blossoms like the cherry
The sun smiles at me gently caressing
My body as the birds sing melodies-
So beautiful they keep me guessing-
The beauty of future melodic memories
Like the Cedars of Lebanon
Beautifying the palaces of Ethiopia
Purity, love and perfection adorn her every season.
This place is within me; this place is Utopia
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
Dear insecure, emotional, overthinking young man
you've come a long way from way back then
you've lost a lot - but had to realize "who hasn't?"
your strong will seemed to be mistaken a lot from your passion
you've missed out on a lot of love by second guessing & never unmasking
why weren't you truly ever satisfied... nah, that's the question that I'm asking...
your abandonment issues pushed away the potential of something ever lasting
constantly fighting the man in the mirror
hopefully with your new life - you see things clearer
no one ever knew, with you...who they were gonna get
you've missed out on a lot of good times wanting to talk
instead of just letting it go and enjoying the time you had left.
Your favorite pills were self pity, self indulgence, ignorance and regret
you never stopped to listen - stopped talking - hopefully now you allow others words to be said
no woman stood a chance... you purposely acted a certain way to avoid the possibility of true love
discretely pushing them away until they saw nothing and had enough.
don't get me started on your lack of living
missed out on a lot of trips, chances and opportunities
I hope now you've filled that void that is missing
you swore happiness was wealth... power...a line of respect
little did you know it was the little things; the calm, the moments
the people and things in life worth it and willing to invest.
you gave up on a few dreams... figured why fight?
countless times your mind would just run... keep you up all night
you were so afraid of success... honestly, I never knew why
you never freed that little boy trapped - stuck in his father's grasp
he was begging for freedom, you left him struck inside
everyday was another day you thought was your time.
**I hope you live now
I hope you see the beauty life truly is
I hope you found love
I hope you found this**
I needed to write this letter to you - so you can see how far you have come
you can see that change is real
you can see all that you have become
Bland Douglas Simpkins,
that's the man you should be proud to be
no matter what challenges you were faced with
those obstacles were needed, needed to make it to this me
thank those who've came into your life - not all were meant to last
some forced you left - others showed you right
no matter what, some were needed in your past.
So...
Dear future self,
please understand - I'm sorry. For all that I put you through
the truth remains - that without me - just know...
there would be no you.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 7:14 PM UTC
termites crawl in my stomach; you
are my disarray, o soft and golden -
take the curves of my feet, the
freckle on my lip, and
hang me on your wall, you
compel my speechlessness.
i'll keep guessing, guessing
and unguessing.
i am up all night over this.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC
I see a mirror
Of Love,
A promise fulfilled
By the power above
I see a mature woman
Who’s endless in worth
Who has dreams and goals
And a great purpose on Earth
I see a soul
That’ll hold me close
Keep me happy
And love me the most
When I look into your eyes
My search is complete
No more looking for love
No more girls to meet
When I look into your heart
I feel God’s grace and blessing
My prayers were answered
And there’s no more guessing
When I see you smile
Not a worry do I feel
Stress falls to the ground
And my anger tends to peel
When I see you happy
It feeds my spirit
I’d even ask if you liked my body
Just to even hear it
When I see your life
I see our great futures combined
Nothing but success, love, and peace
Fill my dreams and mind
When I see into your mind
I see your want to be great
And you’re off to a good start
Many girls are gonna hate
When I see into your love
It makes me write it down
Sing it to a crowd
Or preach it on a mound
And when you read this
Many emotions do you feel
But what I love the most
No worry about them being concealed
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
dating a writer
is like guessing the weather.
you think you know what you'll get,
but you never do.
you never know
because
she'll create a hero
from your weaknesses
and she'll write a great character,
from every last flaw.
she'll create a thousand plots
from your worst nightmares.
she'll take every last thing you hate
and create something you'll love.
she'll turn your anger
into confessions of adoration,
and she'll make you,
everything you're not.
but worst of all,
she'll leave you wondering-
is it you she's in love with,
or things she's created from you?
but here's the beauty of it:
if you date a writer,
you'll never die.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
Oh, they think they know.
While second guessing at best.
Pure speculation about us.
About our friends with benefits.
Without understanding just how deep it is.
We see the smiles.
We hear the giggles.
And notice the winking of the eyes.
And they still don't realize just what our friendship truly is.
While they try to materialize to themselves our friends with benefits relationship.
While they think it's ******
Maybe even physical.
None gives it a guess that it's mostly emotional.
When we need a laugh.
When we need a listening ear.
That's when our friends with benefits appears.
When we need advice.
Whether it's good or bad.
That's when our friends with benefits kicks in.
We let them speculate.
We let them make their stupid mistakes.
Even when we could straighten out their wrongs.
All because our friends with benefits is so much more.
Then physical or ******
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 8:10 AM UTC
for seven years i believed that i had no right to say
that i had been abused because it wasn't physical,
like my friend who was beat by her drunk father on
a daily basis.
my abuse was only on an emotional, psychological scale
and while sometimes his hand slipped or gripped too tight on me,
i honestly wouldn't count it as abuse.
recently i began reading into this and while it's not
as talked about as physical or ****** abuse it still counts
and it carries over as children grow up from these experiences.
even experiences that i didn't think counted as emotional abuse,
from times when i was far younger than just a teenager.
the abuse i've dealt with hasn't made me any stronger than i was,
it's made me the exact opposite;
instead of being the person i was before, bright and optimistic,
i'm apologizing constantly for things i don't need to and
second guessing myself and others intentions.
constantly i wonder if i'm bothering someone,
am i being too much of myself? am i allowed to speak?
does my opinion matter? is it all right to assert myself?
after being told for three years that i don't matter,
and there is no point of me for existing and that
it's no wonder i don't have any friends,
i'm trying to break myself out of the box i've placed myself in
and it's so **** hard.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
Sean
It was 1 night
But that one night happened 2 much
There were 3 of us
And it happened be 4
Almost 5 nights a week
Almost had 6 slices
But I want 7 of you
Ask me if you can come in so you can 8 with me
It's almost 9 every time I order
And sometimes 10
You are at least an 11 out of ten
You stop making pizza at 12
I wish I had found you at 13
It's been almost 14 days
I hope I'll see you again and in case you didn't know I'm 15
And I'm hoping that maybe you're 16
But maybe 17 that's what I'm guessing
Just please don't be 18
And please don't have a 19 year old girlfriend
Let's exchange our 20 digits between each other and give me a call
So we can spend 21 years together
But let's try to get past our 22 word conversation
Or more like 23 characters
Should I try to call you tonight on the 24th
Or tomorrow on the 25th
So I can get that slim chance to see you and my delicious pizza
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC
My father is black and my mother is white
And though we live in a new generation I still find myself having to give explainations on how all of this works
The ignorance of race really hurts
No this is not good hair
No you can't touch it keep your ******* hands to yourself
No I'm not Mexican or Puerto Rican
Stop guessing above all else
I'm black like you
And I'm white like her
I'm flesh and blood not claws and fur
But see you don't want to accept me
Of course unless I'm president Obama or Halle Berry
Did you know they were mixed?
Or were you so deep in the lime light you don't care
Because on the streets I'm not considered black no matter how coarse my hair
I use relaxers too
I've had my hair braided
I've been called ******
I've been followed in stores
I've been sent to the end of the line for no reason
Denied friendship for seasons
And wouldn't you know
(Being black was the reason)
But its just not enough to gain any trust
I don't look anything like white people so I dont even try
Only hope for full acceptance from the other side
And yet still I'm left feeling quite empty inside
Where the hell do I fit in?
Who's on my side?
Since claiming black or white is considered a crime
This was when I decided to become an advocate of self
I found who I was
Didn't need any help
I don't let my race define who I am
But I embrace both my colors
They work well with each other
And that's something society just will not understand
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC
I. You told me that you saw the universe in my eyes whenever we stared at each other for longer than six seconds. The universe is infinite and I thought you were comparing it to our love.
II. You fell in love with the way I laughed and acted around you because I reminded you of a rose bud that you planted on your garden. Little did you know, a rose has its thorns and I'm guessing you weren't prepared for that.
III. The first time you looked at me with tears streaming down my cheeks, you blamed me for being so ugly looking. I was cursing myself when you walked out the door and didn't look back.
IV. Months after you left and I was buried deep under the ground, he found me. ***** and covered in mud, he washed me from head to toe. I knew I'd fall for him.
V. He and I had our first kiss on New Year's Eve and he gave me hope more than you ever did. I knew I deserved him.
VI. I saw you walking down the street while I was holding his hand and the next thing I knew, you were screaming so loud I could barely understand what you said. Later, I found out that you were cursing me for being freed by him from where you buried me.
VII. I found a letter by the front door the very next day and all that it said was how the writer could still see the mud on my face and on my back, just like the last time they saw me. I knew the writer was you.
VIII. The night he found out about the letter, he hugged me ever so tightly and he swore he wouldn't let anybody harm me. Let the Power above dealt with the problem.
IX. I'm happier than ever now that I know I have someone whom I can hold on to. I don't even see any mud on my face; it is you who's covered with dirt the most.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
Beautiful summer day. You know you're gonna die
that's why you know no joy
unless religion, tv, stories, sports matter.
For men like us dying's easy, it's living that's hard.
And since dying's much like living, that's hard too.
There's some contentment in letting community decide
your place in it. A good day to die, the Apaches say.
Can't stop the quince from blossoming
or my sons from smoking, speeding.
The best that can be done or said's a blessing.
Less tv, less guessing about the effects of your anger
unless you want to be an angry man forever.
Becoming knowledgeable is the best defense
against your insignificance. OK about being alone.
Alive, almost sure of it. Whether I'm a visitor
to my life or the actual owner.
Mature poets steal, most are masturbators.
There are a million poets, I'm poet #500K.
Plenty of mysteries, infinite philosophies,
prayers, laws and unwritten rules.
That's why we go to school, life's complicated.
All I do not know: ATP, probabilities,
the glorious revolution, meiosis and mitosis
and all I'll never see, the bottom of the ocean,
the palm at the end of the mind, a wolverine.
Forget-me-not, is that all I want?
To get lucky, you gotta be careful first.
To be great, you gotta be willing to sound BAD.
In last night’s movie, a young writer
and an older, married with children French woman
fall in love. They did not meet during a village massacre
and money is no object, Manhattan.
But after everything has happened
she cannot leave her children, not even for love,
because of love, the love that brooks no serendipity.
In the subsequent late night movie, a wealthy
altruistic doctor arranges for the ******
of his neurotic concubine. His guilt
provides us with an opportunity to consider
the concepts of faith and forgiveness,
that all will be well in the end
after a period of meaningless suffering.
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 5:21 AM UTC
Songs of Oregon: No. 1 “Gonna Make You Crazy, That Place”
nuts, crazy peeps
whomever wherever,
regardless of race creed color or gender (did I get ‘em all?)
current state of residence (geo-identified)
a poem - the very same recited,
as a disclaimer, a yellow finger wagging warning:
“Don’t go! If you go, you won’t come back”
now kids, I’m a veteran of foreign travel,
many continents, cold and hot, rivers and seas,
some living, some dead,
some so big they named it Endless,
been to the great cities, Swiss villages,
pyramids, climbed Masada,
danced on grapes (why can’t I recall where)
skied the Alps, trekked the Sinai Desert,
clubbed in Rio, and danced till morn,
on a certain Greek Isle that rhymes with Mickey’s Nose
even been to L.A and San Fran, left poorer
but in sync,
always came home
with my mind decently reshaped
me/ a product of gritty unpretty grime,
streets of normal humans
acting like normal escaped mad persons,
this brutal city island instilled a
layer of fat and smog neath my skin,
a kind of migrating duck-like survival kit,
came with a homing beacon included
the those of you who know me,
perhaps too well, ken we citified islanders
love our beaches (fire hydrants)
cherish our sun dappled blessings
upon on farms (window sill herb gardens)
and sunning settlements (rooftops)
they say our tap water is secretly bottled,
sold in places where the springs purportedly
run crystalline
though we don’t got no pinot, just sweet concord grape,
so sweet, the wine of children and street nodders,
needy for instant sugar highs
so as we new Yorkers proudly
say on our license plates,
prove it or stfup!
so a first hand investigation for which
the taxpayers won’t be charged even a lousy mill,
deemed necessary to put to rest this crazy claiming warning
“Don’t go! If you go, you won’t come back”
guessing must be something in the water and the wine
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 9:00 AM UTC
Sep 15
2 0 15
your poem read,
awoken by lightening flashes of
morning notifications arriving,
postmarked from
"I liked it"
but it does not
end there,
continues,
to a new ending
who and why,
who and why,
did this one find
their own
worthy in it
that was writ unknowingly
just for them
and
you look them up,
guessing
who and why,
rereading your hand's work,
which verse was it,
was it for a blessing or a
curse,
that touched them,
that made them
touch
you
each "like,"
a work in itself
re examined,
re searched,
re imagined
in the
light of
who they are
and
why they are
liking words I wrote
a single poem
bring hours of imagination,
each "like"
individually gift wrapped,
each human liking rapt,
each imagine a rapture,
each "like"
a new poem
about the who and why
each name a disguise to unravel,
each name a title
of a new different,
imagined poem,
who and why,
we
like
each other
~~~
6:53am
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 7:01 AM UTC
Lead us, Evolution, lead us
Up the future's endless stair;
Chop us, change us, **** us, **** us.
For stagnation is despair:
Groping, guessing, yet progressing,
Lead us nobody knows where.
Wrong or justice, joy or sorrow,
In the present what are they
while there's always jam-tomorrow,
While we tread the onward way?
Never knowing where we're going,
We can never go astray.
To whatever variation
Our posterity may turn
Hairy, squashy, or crustacean,
Bulbous-eyed or square of stern,
Tusked or toothless, mild or ruthless,
Towards that unknown god we yearn.
Ask not if it's god or devil,
Brethren, lest your words imply
Static norms of good and evil
(As in Plato) throned on high;
Such scholastic, inelastic,
Abstract yardsticks we deny.
Far too long have sages vainly
Glossed great Nature's simple text;
He who runs can read it plainly,
'Goodness = what comes next.'
By evolving, Life is solving
All the questions we perplexed.
Oh then! Value means survival-
Value. If our progeny
Spreads and spawns and licks each rival,
That will prove its deity
(Far from pleasant, by our present,
Standards, though it may well be).
10.2k
She sits next to him
Head on his shoulder, head on hers
Sitting in blissful happiness
The music bringing them closer and closer
The notes fill her head
Singing to her
The lyrics imprint themselves on her soul
Never letting her forget
A year ago
He remembered what she showed him a year ago
The song the lyrics the band
How?
As she sits next to him, head on his shoulder
Doubt fills her mind
Second guessing her choice
Was it a mistake?
The longer she sits the more she doubts
Was it a mistake?
What would have happened if she had said yes?
Happiness or a beautiful disaster
Would she be happy with him?
He makes her feel things
Good and bad
He makes her laugh and hate him at the same time
But that doesn't matter
What matters is that he makes her happy
A small smiles stretches across her lips as she sits there next to him
Memories flooding her mind
But the smile slowly fades, replaced by an... emptiness
Why?
Because he's leaving next year
She'll never see him again
Was it a mistake turning him down? What would have happened had she said yes?
Happiness or a beautiful disaster
She'll never know though and it is slowly killing her
But for now she'll sit, content to be next to him and almost happy
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC
If I were only me I would drive to San Francisco
and jump off the big orange bridge.
I might do it if I knew it
wouldn’t hurt them,
but I can't because it would
so I keep fighting all
this **** that haunts me.
I have eleven reasons not to do it,
eleven people I will not name,
eleven reasons
not to hit the water at 86 mph,
eleven reasons to avoid massive internal bleeding,
to avoid broken ribs and punctured lungs,
to avoid …telescoping fractures……
asphyxiation by blood and……
….telescoping fractures……..
Eleven reasons to avoid 4 seconds
of second guessing.....and telescoping fractures…..
Eleven reasons…… …....................OK twelve.
Eleven people in my life I couldn’t do it to.
Twelve including me because I know I won’t like
the sound of what it might sound like,
the difference in my mind between the sound
of fractures and the sound of telescoping fractures,
a terrifying sound, enough to keep me away from
San Francisco, not to mention the big orange bridge.
I lie awake at night with numbers racing around inside
my head, 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour,
4 seconds from rail to water, 220 feet to fall,
24 hours in a day, 86 miles per hour at impact.
I keep counting and sleeping fitful frightening sleep,
endure nightmares of falling, flying off the big orange bridge,
reaching upward, the bridge getting smaller and smaller,
and every morning I wake before impact still a martyr
for all of us.
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 1:03 PM UTC
You see me as the bacteria
And yourself as the antibiotic
I see you across the cafeteria
Acting psychotic
Because of what I find ******
You treat me like I'm toxic
But you're seen as normal
So I hide beneath the coral
To avoid your aggression
That will teach me a lesson
About correctly guessing
Where your fists will go next
You tell me I want it like ***
This is your way to flex
To show you have an edge
You single out the marginalized
There's no way you'll hedge
When you have harm in your eyes
And then use charm as a disguise
To make me cry over spilt milk
Because I am not of your ilk
For I am as soft as silk
Like the sheets I want to roll in with you
Instead you shoved my face into poo
As my ***** grew
I think of killing myself
With my gun
When I think of filling myself
With your ***
While pretending I'm your son
And swallowing you like gum
Those are my ideas of fun
Yours is to tell me to run
From your intensely penetrating fists
That make me regret my penetrating wish
As you brandish the weapon
From the movie Inception
That launches you into my dreams
Giving my thoughts a singular theme
As my mouth continually screams
I was born on the wrong team
You wanted to exhibit your power
In this seemingly arbitrary hour
So you broke my nose
To show off for your hoes
An off the cuff
Attempt to be tough
But I found it deeply affecting
When I could feel your hatred injecting
Making me wonder if I'd ever be free
After I saw the only ending I could see
You move to strike me again
This time I have my mac 10
That I brought to school
For a one sided duel
You changed the trajectory of my life
By changing the trajectory of my bullets
You taught me about strife
You taught me how power is the coolest
You taught me to move on to your friends
Their lives I must remember to end
This is the message I'm choosing to send
When they sat back and watched the hate
Like it was 1938
I lost my sympathy
After being treated differently
And gained a ruthless anger
That turned me into a stranger
So I let the automatic gun spray
Faster than they could pray
For their hoots and hollers
I shoot their collars
Creating shade in the halls
That I make when they fall
The feeling goes to my *****
I become strangely intoxicated
By the death of those who hated
So I go back to your dead body
And do what you felt was so naughty
And now there is no one even around for you to tell
That I ****** your corpse while you watched from Hell
Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 12:18 AM UTC
roses are red,
violets are blue,
and my heart is broken,
but I'm guessing you
already knew that too.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
No ****** or dawdling just for fun
Gotta be the best gotta be #1
I scrutinize every detail
Until I am done
If I am not perfect I turn face and run
Its just a day in the life of a perfectionist
I could go on and on and make a long list, but I'm hopeful already that you all get the jist
I'd love to sit down and draw some cool art
But if every line wasn't perfect I'd crumple it up or tear it apart
However, I know that I'm talented and sharp as a dart
But my ideals are too critical and not very smart
However, this is my reality. So I hardly can start
Eh, Scratch all that - I guess I need to restart
Its all in a day of a perfectionist
I've reversed on my promise and made you a list
I'm second guessing myself that you're getting the jist
I'd love to sit down and write a poem or two
But it's impossible to write perfection though - we all know this to be true
That fact on its own is bringing me down and making me blue
Its making me sick like I'm getting the flu
How can I ever release this poem? What will I do?
Ugh! I've gotta scratch this again and come up with something that's new!
Don't you see? This is the life of a perfectionist
I've given examples and made a small list
But I'm confident now that you all get the jist
Of just what's its like being a perfectionist.
Hold up! There is one more thing I'd like to say
I beat myself up every night, every day
And although I fall short, I pray and I pray
That this wicked perfectionism will not stay
That one day I'll be content with myself and that it'll stay that way.
Now I'd like to wrap this all up - if I may
Well, I guess thats just the way it is
In a day of the life of a perfectionist
You've heard my reasoning and you've witnessed my list
So I can certainly say that you all get the jist
Of exactly what its like being a perfectionist
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 6:26 PM UTC
A woman’s job is never done. From sun up to sun down, most women have a ton of things to do along with keeping their man happy in a relationship. It makes a woman feel important and special when you take time to recognize all that she does. A simple,”Thank you for cooking dinner, I really appreciate it”, can put a smile on her face. No woman wants to be in a relationship that she feels invisible in. Recognizing her efforts is the very fuel that can inspire her to keep doing more for you.
She deserves safety and security.Whether you are providing a roof over her head or protection over her heart, every woman needs her safe haven. When a man can give a woman the reassurance that he will do anything to protect her heart, her well being and her spirit, it brings a certain level of peace over her. When a woman feels safe, she feels free. You can’t expect her to continue being your angel if you don’t create a heaven like environment for her to comfortably lay her head in.
She needs to know which certainty that she can trust her life partner.
A man will never reach the depths of a woman’s love if that woman cannot fully trust him. When a woman can lower her guard and love a man without holding anything back, that is truly when that man has earned all of her trust. It takes courage loving a man and sharing things with him that makes her sacred. Everyone doesn’t get to explore those levels of her love. You only reach that level of comfort with a woman when she can fully trust you. Earn her trust and you will tap into things that will inspire you in becoming a better man.
A woman needs to feel desired and loved.
A woman definitely needs two things. She needs to hear how much you love her, and she needs to see how much you love her. Every woman needs to feel like she is special and like she is the only woman in her man’s world. As a man, it is your responsibility to never leave your woman guessing or wondering how much you really do love her. She should be so moved by your love that it radiates off of her when she steps out in public. With most women, the thought and the effort you put into making them smile is truly what matters most. Whether you are planning a surprise dinner or planning to send her surprise flowers, these small things leave the biggest smiles on their heart. Express how much she means to you and how blessed you are to have her in your life. Don’t just say she’s irreplaceable, love her like she is irreplaceable and she will never stray away from you and your love. She deserves a man to be her best friend.
When you feel like you have your best friend in your relationship, that is a sign of a great relationship. Can she confide in you secrets that she has never told anyone? Can she trust that you will listen to her about anything in the world without judging her? Are you a man that she can cry with and laugh with? Being her best friend is like making a secret oath with her. You never share private conversations and private moments with anyone outside of your relationship. Being her best friend means that you will always be able to see the best in her even when she feels the opposite. Being a woman’s best friend is one of the best things that you can do for your relationship.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 6:46 AM UTC
I don't want to **** myself and leave my kids
without a father,
alone,
like me.
I'd better do it now then.
The color palette isn't bright anymore.
A fatherless man is just guessing.
(To be honest.)
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 3:09 AM UTC
And when you give
Give like the widow
And when you give
Give til you giggle
And when you give
Give til you've pasted a smile
On every angel within a mile
And when you give
Keep the others guessing
Keep it between you and heaven
Cos you know that's better than
A here and now blessing
When you give
Give like the widow
Keep it on the down-low
However you live
Just give
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 6:00 PM UTC
Darling,
did you ever realize
just how harsh society is?
I'm guessing you have,
because I've noticed that lately
you haven't been the same.
For some reason,
society chose to misguide you,
and you've become damaged.
And it's quite a shame,
for I wish you could see yourself
the way I see you.
But being damaged,
does not mean broken.
Always remember that.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
1518
Not seeing, still we know—
Not knowing, guess—
Not guessing, smile and hide
And half caress—
And quake—and turn away,
Seraphic fear—
Is Eden’s innuendo
“If you dare”?
5.7k
Your Style Can Not Dominate
Not Being Crude, Not Spreading Hate
I'm Just Spreading The Word, Going To Radiate
Even Without It, You'd Probably Meet Your Fate
Taking You Down Has Become My Mission
Going To Split Your Mind, Sanity Fission
And Your World In Two, Territorial Division
I'm Coming At You With Insane Precision
Not Going To Rush, Going To Be Tactical
Make Sure My Plans Are 100% Practical
Attacking Aimlessly Would Be Impractical
Give My People A Show, Theatrical
I'm Flawless, You're Flawed
When People Hear My Words, They Applaud
When They Hear yours? They Call The Firing Squad
I Don't Think Inside The Box, I Think Abroad
I'm Guessing By Now You Must Be Hurting
You Coming To Me, Asking For Some Kind Of Converting
The Topic Kills You, You're Diverting
To You. I'm Quite Alerting
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC