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"impostor" poems
Most days, you're not a woman developer, you're a developer. You work just as hard, You (try to) talk just as fast You keep your feelings under the surface (barely) Actually, scratch that You're always a woman developer. you're just so used to internalizing these habits Trying to have confidence in your skills despite the impostor syndrome pulling you down each time slowly, like quicksand Trying to make up for the confidence you never had compared to someone who always had it all Trying to not cry in the kitchen because god who is allowed to have feelings Trying not to talk about men who made you uncomfortable because oh my god for the fact that people call women overreacting most men seem to make every little statement about them, have you noticed? oh wow, isn't this just reverse sexism? oh wow, can I even talk to women? Being so vocal about being queer and Indian but if you make one noise one sound one phrase about your experience as a woman because in such welcoming company you subconsciously thought why not You let down your guard But There goes the shattered glass as the topic of gender-based discrimination is finally broached There goes the thing nobody ever talks about There starts the debate you did not want to participate in "Oh wow you're so harsh to these guys" "We were just slamming what they were doing, you slammed their actual personality wow" "I just said they sounded like a brogrammer" "sure if you say so" "Isn't that just an arbitrary description" How do you explain How do you describe every nuanced experience about Every male in your life who have been exactly like this to you How do you explain the light discrimination The harsh discrimination The systemic problem as a whole How can you condense all this into a workplace environment talk Where you don't usually talk about this? Where you don't know if you can actually talk about this Where you know that you ultimately don't want to talk about this cuz how can you explain these feelings that they can never understand You shut up and move on with coding. But inside, you're conflicted with ideas of presentations to express the fact, or never speak about this again Because in the end, You're just a developer, not a woman developer to them.
0
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 10:42 AM UTC
An Arbitrary Description (not really)
Most days, you're not a woman developer, you're a developer. You work just as hard, You (try to) talk just as fast You keep your feelings under the surface (barely) Actually, scratch that You're always a woman developer. you're just so used to internalizing these habits Trying to have confidence in your skills despite the impostor syndrome pulling you down each time slowly, like quicksand Trying to make up for the confidence you never had compared to someone who always had it all Trying to not cry in the kitchen because god who is allowed to have feelings Trying not to talk about men who made you uncomfortable because oh my god for the fact that people call women overreacting most men seem to make every little statement about them, have you noticed? oh wow, isn't this just reverse sexism? oh wow, can I even talk to women? Being so vocal about being queer and Indian but if you make one noise one sound one phrase about your experience as a woman because in such welcoming company you subconsciously thought why not You let down your guard But There goes the shattered glass as the topic of gender-based discrimination is finally broached There goes the thing nobody ever talks about There starts the debate you did not want to participate in "Oh wow you're so harsh to these guys" "We were just slamming what they were doing, you slammed their actual personality wow" "I just said they sounded like a brogrammer" "sure if you say so" "Isn't that just an arbitrary description" How do you explain How do you describe every nuanced experience about Every male in your life who have been exactly like this to you How do you explain the light discrimination The harsh discrimination The systemic problem as a whole How can you condense all this into a workplace environment talk Where you don't usually talk about this? Where you don't know if you can actually talk about this Where you know that you ultimately don't want to talk about this cuz how can you explain these feelings that they can never understand You shut up and move on with coding. But inside, you're conflicted with ideas of presentations to express the fact, or never speak about this again Because in the end, You're just a developer, not a woman developer to them.
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51
One winter night The wind blows with its might She walks alone through the wood Her name’s Little Red Riding Hood The willow trees along the forest trail Sway their empty branches and wail And afar, the white bright moon Tries hard to shine like it were noon “I will eat you”, the whisper sounded near Sending her into a state of fear Holding her basket she spun around Only to see darkness from the sky to the ground Awake and alert, she waited a moment Her fast beating heart giving her a torment To go on or to go back, she couldn’t decide How she wished her mother by her side The wolf couldn’t wait to claim his food So he started to plan how he could For he knew which way she’s heading to It’s probably the route earlier too The wolf figured out a plan He wouldn’t share this to his clan So he ran and ran and wait for her at her granny’s place But here comes the twist in this tale For Riding Hood is a modern child And the wolf is still traditional and wild Riding Hood reached for her cellphone, and placed a call Calling her granny in no time at all “Im scared, Im going home”, she cried It was a failed effort, but she tried A wise decision, granny couldn't agree more Soon, there was a knock on the door “Whos that?”, Granny asked “Red Riding Hood”, his voice was masked What an impostor Posing as her granddaughter Granny picked up her whistle and blew it hard Down came running the guard Before he knew it, he was put in a sack What a pity, the wolf became a catch In a mere mobile phone He found his match.
0
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
Little Red Riding Hood; Twisted
One winter night The wind blows with its might She walks alone through the wood Her name’s Little Red Riding Hood The willow trees along the forest trail Sway their empty branches and wail And afar, the white bright moon Tries hard to shine like it were noon “I will eat you”, the whisper sounded near Sending her into a state of fear Holding her basket she spun around Only to see darkness from the sky to the ground Awake and alert, she waited a moment Her fast beating heart giving her a torment To go on or to go back, she couldn’t decide How she wished her mother by her side The wolf couldn’t wait to claim his food So he started to plan how he could For he knew which way she’s heading to It’s probably the route earlier too The wolf figured out a plan He wouldn’t share this to his clan So he ran and ran and wait for her at her granny’s place But here comes the twist in this tale For Riding Hood is a modern child And the wolf is still traditional and wild Riding Hood reached for her cellphone, and placed a call Calling her granny in no time at all “Im scared, Im going home”, she cried It was a failed effort, but she tried A wise decision, granny couldn't agree more Soon, there was a knock on the door “Whos that?”, Granny asked “Red Riding Hood”, his voice was masked What an impostor Posing as her granddaughter Granny picked up her whistle and blew it hard Down came running the guard Before he knew it, he was put in a sack What a pity, the wolf became a catch In a mere mobile phone He found his match.
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42
Long days seem so much longer. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder. You’ve conquered the empire of my subconscious. Your crusade so short, Yet I hope your reign continues for eons. We’re far past passive flatteries, Instead, we fill each other’s hearts with vows. You mean them now, But what about a few months? What if you decide I’m not what you want? The torment I am slowly approaching, Consumes my distant soul. I can hear the sounds of futuristic loathing, From when you decide this love has taken it’s toll. So tell me. How can I pay this inevitable toll? How can I save us from Cupid’s malicious tyranny? His arrow is too far lodged within me, I cannot remove it. I can only push it farther and farther Into my heart until it falls out of my back. But this arrow, trenchant. Cupid, the sharpest of marksmen. Yet colorblind, he is. He sees not what colors his targets represent. He draws his bow for the pure love of marksmanship. Sometimes, yet not often, He will hit the intended target. But the odds are scarce. His subjects are often punctured, And connected to one whom reciprocated Fate’s desire. Yet this time… This time… Cupid must have hit a target of Fate’s approval. For thrice he has missed. This time He and Fate are in sync. This wound may stretch over time, But the arrow shall remain firmly lodged within my ***** ***** and immovable. Until you kick it through my backside. But until then, I can only endure. I can only be woo wounded. I can only survive, Another ambush of the militant called Cupid. But I will do it for you, For by you, I’ve been so divinely seduced. Wooed by your lips. Not by your kiss, But by the music, Which your mandibles so express. I desire not to seal this wound, But to evade its’ repercussions. For I have endured a similar wound thrice. He is winged as if an angel, Yet Was Lucifer not once an angel as well? Cupid is an impostor. A spy of Agony, himself. He prays on the young, the old, the strong, and the weak. He cares not who he obliterates in his crusades. He is a bloodthirsty heathen. He makes scoundrels of Saints, And Harlots of Housewives. Saint Valentine is no Saint. He is Satan’s nightmare. At first, his arrows are ecstasy, But like a cancer, His poison-saturated arrows Seep deep within every crevice of your body. They consume you as if enriched with ****** And eventually rot within your ***** Until it is nothing but dust and a memory. One day I will assassinate Fate’s Malicious militant, The one we call Cupid.
0
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 1:25 AM UTC
Fate's Malicious Militant, Cupid.
Long days seem so much longer. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder. You’ve conquered the empire of my subconscious. Your crusade so short, Yet I hope your reign continues for eons. We’re far past passive flatteries, Instead, we fill each other’s hearts with vows. You mean them now, But what about a few months? What if you decide I’m not what you want? The torment I am slowly approaching, Consumes my distant soul. I can hear the sounds of futuristic loathing, From when you decide this love has taken it’s toll. So tell me. How can I pay this inevitable toll? How can I save us from Cupid’s malicious tyranny? His arrow is too far lodged within me, I cannot remove it. I can only push it farther and farther Into my heart until it falls out of my back. But this arrow, trenchant. Cupid, the sharpest of marksmen. Yet colorblind, he is. He sees not what colors his targets represent. He draws his bow for the pure love of marksmanship. Sometimes, yet not often, He will hit the intended target. But the odds are scarce. His subjects are often punctured, And connected to one whom reciprocated Fate’s desire. Yet this time… This time… Cupid must have hit a target of Fate’s approval. For thrice he has missed. This time He and Fate are in sync. This wound may stretch over time, But the arrow shall remain firmly lodged within my ***** ***** and immovable. Until you kick it through my backside. But until then, I can only endure. I can only be woo wounded. I can only survive, Another ambush of the militant called Cupid. But I will do it for you, For by you, I’ve been so divinely seduced. Wooed by your lips. Not by your kiss, But by the music, Which your mandibles so express. I desire not to seal this wound, But to evade its’ repercussions. For I have endured a similar wound thrice. He is winged as if an angel, Yet Was Lucifer not once an angel as well? Cupid is an impostor. A spy of Agony, himself. He prays on the young, the old, the strong, and the weak. He cares not who he obliterates in his crusades. He is a bloodthirsty heathen. He makes scoundrels of Saints, And Harlots of Housewives. Saint Valentine is no Saint. He is Satan’s nightmare. At first, his arrows are ecstasy, But like a cancer, His poison-saturated arrows Seep deep within every crevice of your body. They consume you as if enriched with ****** And eventually rot within your ***** Until it is nothing but dust and a memory. One day I will assassinate Fate’s Malicious militant, The one we call Cupid.
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75
That unforgiving metal. Within that unforgiving metal lies all the things you cannot forgive about yourself. Those freckles on your chin that you wish would expand into a constellation so that you may give them names and so that you may give them meaning, within that unforgiving metal. The Greeks threw their hands towards the heavens and deemed cosmic accidents worthy of the names of gods, although within them lie no gifts. Like a bedazzled and jaded Tiresias impostor one stumbles upon on their way home, who sees nothing but the tangible and tells all but the truth. Still, he is clad in diamonds and gold and thus has value in trade. Beauty triumphs over mendacity and mendacity over reality. But the freckles that mar your skin, that you cannot transfigure into the most meaningless of stars or the crudest of answers, sit there defiantly, waiting to be acknowledged and waiting to be named. You lean your forehead forward to rest against the cool smoothness of its idle twin. You could swear you saw her sneer at you. The freckles do not budge—they will consume you whole.
0
Aug 20, 2021
Aug 20, 2021 at 6:41 PM UTC
A Cliché Metaphor About Freckles and Stars
Lost traction, in a disillusioned faction. Thought prosperity could keep all afloat. Instead it's left me to gloat. About a lifestyle of inefficiency, in an attempt to gain a touch of currency. What a poor excuse, for something so abstruse. But it is a tampered explanation, after large amounts of manipulation. About the best thing I'm left to offer, seeing as I'm a poor impostor. But then again isn't everyone. Seeing as we've all been outrun.
0
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 2:15 AM UTC
Mob Mentality
Stay away! Stand back! Don't come closer! I change into the monster, As I am called an impostor, By my own father. I wish I was once more the perfect daughter. My brother waits for me to be slaughtered, I wish to plea, and ask for water, But to them now, I am a helpless otter. A witch even. No matter how loud I cry, I am still the bad guy, Don't you see? I just want to be left alone. . .
0
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
Transformation
I cannot recall the precise moment  of my arrival at Anhedonia memories blindsided by a phantasmagoric comorbid collage of cant precipitated by some newspaper reportage or holocaust story some creepy instance that breached the precipice between simple sorrow and permanent melancholia some fatal blow that cinched the deal some horrid event that could not heal some dejected disappointment that could not be resolved some moment of unguarded clarity when integrity dissolved nevertheless I have arrived at this mangled juncture élan a mania not even Edison's medicine can extirpate I was quite lighthearted before the inferno before my brain broke ennui now a   turgid companion feeding on gaiety, never sated, seeking famine esurient unrelenting usurper of  happiness go away, leave me alone, relish some other  soul's  madness gone is any exuberance, glee or mirth miseries are mine, many the days since birth better I was carried  from the womb straight to the grave a fatuous existence, clamoring and grasping in vain it's as if I was born into a well but these waters they burn the bludgeoning alcohol a liquid hell Oh florid loquacity, you are an impostor your verse is an adversary a foray of jagged rhythm justifying a storm a sordid verbosity  assuring no norm a plaintive scratching guild of recriminative collaboration some alliance of fulminating disquietude the cost for the fare on the adventure to: the stunning moment  you too will visit Anhedonia
0
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
Destination Anhedonia
I cannot recall the precise moment  of my arrival at Anhedonia memories blindsided by a phantasmagoric comorbid collage of cant precipitated by some newspaper reportage or holocaust story some creepy instance that breached the precipice between simple sorrow and permanent melancholia some fatal blow that cinched the deal some horrid event that could not heal some dejected disappointment that could not be resolved some moment of unguarded clarity when integrity dissolved nevertheless I have arrived at this mangled juncture élan a mania not even Edison's medicine can extirpate I was quite lighthearted before the inferno before my brain broke ennui now a   turgid companion feeding on gaiety, never sated, seeking famine esurient unrelenting usurper of  happiness go away, leave me alone, relish some other  soul's  madness gone is any exuberance, glee or mirth miseries are mine, many the days since birth better I was carried  from the womb straight to the grave a fatuous existence, clamoring and grasping in vain it's as if I was born into a well but these waters they burn the bludgeoning alcohol a liquid hell Oh florid loquacity, you are an impostor your verse is an adversary a foray of jagged rhythm justifying a storm a sordid verbosity  assuring no norm a plaintive scratching guild of recriminative collaboration some alliance of fulminating disquietude the cost for the fare on the adventure to: the stunning moment  you too will visit Anhedonia
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31
That girl doesn't inspire me a bit, let me guilelessly confess, the one that sits right there,diametrically opposite to my roving eyes, in her cozy corner, shielded from the view of most  others, filling the seat exactly with her perfect curvaceousness, she has false promises written all over her many allurements for me (who else) bored to death, at this blighted moment, triggered by scrolling account statements when all I love to see are words, dainty pulchritudinous words, I can munch always. In spite of my valiant efforts,to make do with what is at hand and appreciate the poetic bit, her body language whispers, as my existential compulsion demands, I couldn't move any further. I do my best, try to caress her gently with my brooding  eyes, trying hard not to look duplicitous, but my eyes, curtained off with boredom and drooping, easily lose focus, seeing this, her eyes pop out,yet my arrows that lost verve hit sometimes! Now, with enthusiasm renewed,she gives it a try,but repeatedly fail, every shot she returns is a  blank, such a cruel curse of cupid! She is an impostor, tamed sheep cross dressed as a wanton she wolf, the easy chemical repulsion, lectures  to me on the alchemy of affinity, but how can I complain, it's not a clause  in her letter of appointment.
0
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
On boredom: An office memo to self
matiyaga kang pinapasan ng mamang nangumpisal sa salamin, umami't umako ng karnal na pagkakamali. habang ang karamiha'y mga miron sa silong ng tirik na araw, namamanata sa ritwal ng pag-ulit, pagpako't pagpapasakit sa huling Adan na nabayubay. upang ang kapirasong kahoy ay maging kahulugan, upang ang kahuluga'y maging ehemplo. templo at tiyempo ng mga himno ng mga epokrito't espasyo ng hunghang na pagsamba. ang balikat ay hudyong Kristo, ang kamay ay romano. paano kaya kung ang idolo ng impostor ay sa silya elektrika hinatulan, papasanin din kaya ito ng walang alinlangan?
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May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 11:17 AM UTC
Krus
Hello! Its me always on the cell phone? I tunes Hello Hello does anyone acknowledge Someones hello do not disturb sign movies of art Getting awards all hearts next role part Hello private lives desperate house wives Writers words that move us hello please don't leave us A friendly hello greetings and deadline meetings Please don't hurt anyone's feelings Getting closer no impostor Stars shine hello my dipper Like the golden rule running like A mule the competition The compromising position Just the hello- transition Getting awards surprised Say what you mean Words should be Crisp like lettuce clean Cafe French roast hello mingle No awards to be married or single Instagram beauty and the beast pictures to hustle Climbing the diamond door   Getting awards hello a title Moving towards the winning line_____   Fast and furious "Valentine" Computer hello apps trophy Getting awards your happy Over the Judy rainbow Metal awards and plaques Seeing monuments and hello Hollywood graves But no-one hears me The "Yellow Brick Road" Were off to see the wizard Hello! Oz
0
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 6:58 AM UTC
Getting Awards Hello
there’s an impostor in the mirror and she has my smile.
0
Apr 13, 2025
Apr 13, 2025 at 8:28 AM UTC
impostor
Me siento con mi abuela En mi cuarto, a su lado Sin hablar, sin charlar, miro A su cara, a sus manos. I know the words I want to say In exactly de qué modo Pero...no lo puedo decir En español o el otro.
0
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 9:03 PM UTC
Impostor
So just call me dr. Frankenstein, With this sick twisted need, To bring the dead back to life. Where did you go? Who is this impostor?! Ive turned everyone I love into monsters.
0
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
there are support groups for people like you
I am adrift, adrift in a sea of self-loathing. You went away, I'll push you farther than you ever could run, forget the feelings. **** it. What's it matter anyways? Betrayal binds me to goodbye. I will not waiver! I will forever regret. I am the architect of my own demise. I choose sorrow. I choose inaction. Until it's too late, using time to rationalize my reality. The thread of our Love erodes with each passing day, wish i had the courage to ask you to stay. The place of silent serenity I once had alone, Is pierced by feelings I've carelessly thrown. So, an optimistic impostor I will portray As I spring forth into lifes foray. Never to show the truth of my soul Will I ever be strong enough? I hope so.
0
May 23, 2011
May 23, 2011 at 11:13 PM UTC
Adrift
Every word's a trap to your lies. Every thought pushes me down, ***** me into the ground. My shadow and soul wait, waiting for you to let me out from the dark stain of your perfect life. Blood runs red, lies run dark. There's not one spot that's a spark in this storm. You put impostor thoughts in me replacing the ones of healing. I'm breaking out but of these chains... but why do you keep dragging me back into this cell of destruction?
0
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
Impostor Thoughts
We're loose associations. Brutality queues the phrases. Reality loses luster, in fallow with boot to daisies . Cowering and embracing our trusted tomes, honing a fruitless joke, that only touches on tones that suit the layman Famous and clueless faces. Racing to rue the cadence. Faking a sweet embrace, for imminent tears, but grew impatient. California coos sooth impostor fits, but it's a syndrome fifty shades dense, and way to thick to fit the staples. In case you were getting wayward; our guiding fables, sentinels that they are, will guard the stables and bark orders, pouring out the spirits and clearing history, with brazen logic. Honestly, I carved a broken heart, instead of tapping the maple, sue me.
0
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
I carved a heart.
"Now please don't ever be gay, wait no please don't ever turn out crazy. If you were gay we'd always accept you, you know that, just please don't. And please don't be crazy you remember your grandmother, I don't think I could bear it." You know I do it all for you mom. I hold my tongue I don't look at the other girls, not like I used to anyways I lock myself in dark rooms and let the tears fall I try to be sane Truth is I'll never really be what you want me to be. I'm an impostor to a perfect child. And while I might never be a perfect girl or a perfect daughter, I'm doing my best. I might lie awake at night while horrors race though my mind, and my body might love soft curves, and I might never be just like you, but I'm fighting it with all I've got. And I know that I can never tell you my true nature, but I do sincerely wish you could see all I've done to be what you wanted.
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Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC
Impostor to a Perfect Child
I recall the delicate flickering under the steepled sky Always with the slight taste of sorrowful smoke. No more. Now leaden flames flash in the semi-dark, The glow of childhood or childishness Replaced in favor of some mechanical impostor. A penny for your thoughts sir, A quarter for your prayers. Say what you will About waxen tears and the sting of smoke, At least there was a record And you knew how it stood.
0
Mar 24, 2012
Mar 24, 2012 at 12:31 AM UTC
The Litany of Candles
I am completely fascinated by humans: their behavior their emotions their desires their needs or at least what they believe to be their needs So fragile and vulnerable filled with doubt weighed down by insecurities finding joy in the unexpected always surprised by their own accomplishments struggling with experiences they thought would be easier but miraculously solving problems finding ways to get by making it through another day My nights are often filled with lucid dreams where the whole of humanity is contained within a zoo They are the rare and exotic creatures I came to admire ...but I feel like a human impostor A sense of paranoia begins to seep in like the ominous heaviness you feel before a dream becomes a nightmare I feel as if they've always known I am not one of them They've known since the day I was born They've just been playing along until someday when my suspicions of self will be confirmed Maybe that's what death is - the big reveal Maybe this is how every human feels Maybe I am human after all I hope I am
0
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 8:31 PM UTC
Extraneous
Who is this impostor, glimpsed with horror in the department store window? He apes my movements but fails to capture their athleticism, spring-loaded inside an easy grace. Ladies and gentlemen, do not be deceived. Disregard those who think they know me. This shambling simulacrum is not me. Perhaps my Nobel prize is just a might-have-been, my endowments only imagined. But I am who I want me to be. All aboard for the unguided tour! Already begun, pre-planned by an unknown administrator, its detailed itinerary remains unpublished. The last stage is, they say, less delightful than the others. It passes through the poorer districts; one sees industrial squalor and boarded-up lives. I can leave the tour at any time. I am who I want me to be. Discomfort and dissolution do not belong in my world. I am not the kind of person to ever be distraught. So oblivion shall not swallow my love's soul. Not all at once, not piece by piece. Not even a little. Her identity must not be corrupted. We are who I want us to be.
0
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 7:00 AM UTC
Ageing
A mild case of impostor syndrome, a severe symptom in the form of confabulations without instigations, are the base of our disease. Who we are, is glued to our actions, due to devour what our soup tasted like before it all went sour. This is nonsense, this is weak, this is no writing of which people speak. Is it even right in use to say the things, written. Stop longing for the time of long before, when we were all still rid of conscious thought and feeling, back when we were reeling in and out, casually, of our devout inadequacy.
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Feb 15, 2019
Feb 15, 2019 at 5:30 PM UTC
Inadequacy
We're waiting every night To finally roam and invite Newcomers to play with us For many years we've been all alone We're forced to be still and play The same songs we've known since that day An impostor took our life away Now we're stuck here to decay Please don't let us get in! Don't lock us away! We're not like what you're thinking We're poor little souls Who have lost all control And now we're forced here To take that role We've been all alone Stuck in our little zone Since 1987 Join us, be our friend Or just be stuck and defend After all you only got Five Nights at Freddy's! Is there where you want to be? I just don't get it... Why do you want to stay? Five Nights at Freddy's?! Is this where you want to be? I just don't get it... Why do you want to stay Five Nights at Freddy's?! We're really quite surprised We get to see you another night You should have looked for another job You should have said To this place Good-bye It's like there's so much more Maybe you've been in this place before We remember a face like yours You seem acquainted with those doors Please don't let us get in! Don't lock us away! We're not like what you're thinking We're poor little souls Who have lost all control And now we're forced here to take that role! We've been all alone Stuck in our little zone Since 1987! Join us be our friend Or just be stuck and defend After all you only got Five Nights at Freddy's! Is this where you want to be? I just don't get it... Why do you want to stay Five Night's at Freddy's?! Is this where you want to be? I just don't get it... Why do you want to stay? Five Nights at Freddy's?!
0
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 10:36 AM UTC
Five nights at Freddy's
We're waiting every night To finally roam and invite Newcomers to play with us For many years we've been all alone We're forced to be still and play The same songs we've known since that day An impostor took our life away Now we're stuck here to decay Please don't let us get in! Don't lock us away! We're not like what you're thinking We're poor little souls Who have lost all control And now we're forced here To take that role We've been all alone Stuck in our little zone Since 1987 Join us, be our friend Or just be stuck and defend After all you only got Five Nights at Freddy's! Is there where you want to be? I just don't get it... Why do you want to stay? Five Nights at Freddy's?! Is this where you want to be? I just don't get it... Why do you want to stay Five Nights at Freddy's?! We're really quite surprised We get to see you another night You should have looked for another job You should have said To this place Good-bye It's like there's so much more Maybe you've been in this place before We remember a face like yours You seem acquainted with those doors Please don't let us get in! Don't lock us away! We're not like what you're thinking We're poor little souls Who have lost all control And now we're forced here to take that role! We've been all alone Stuck in our little zone Since 1987! Join us be our friend Or just be stuck and defend After all you only got Five Nights at Freddy's! Is this where you want to be? I just don't get it... Why do you want to stay Five Night's at Freddy's?! Is this where you want to be? I just don't get it... Why do you want to stay? Five Nights at Freddy's?!
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61
Arriving like a Queen, with ego so solid, her gravity dwarfed mine; with self-importance so momentous, she steamrollered me. Acting like she owned the place; and for a minute I accidentally let her... I was stunned by hubris so stealthy, picking my pockets of self-esteem. She demanded and I served, taking what she wanted, and leaving. Just      Like      That. before I could realize, before she could realize, she is an impostor, a thief. She's rich with everything she ever wanted. Poor Thing. Next time I promise to recognize her m.o. in time, so she might recognize herself as well. She needs me to stop her in her tracks, because I am the Queen of me. a mirror in self-confidence to say, may I ask who you are?
0
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 11:49 PM UTC
Modus Operandi
IRIDESCENT CANDIED COMMERCIAL PEASANTS Showcased from outer space Robbed of innocence and good taste A WASTED GRACE SALVATION'S NEVER TOO LATE! Keep good faith You're God sent. No matter the time, You're in the right place. CLOCKS AND QUARTERS HUMAN BODY HOARDERS COLLECTIVE UNCONSCIOUS DISORDER! Are you unaware what is beneath your hair? I mistook your tongue for a flying saucer Unbelievable and probably an atmospheric impostor. DID YOU NOTICE THE BRIGHTNESS OF THE STARS? DO YOU KNOW THE FRAGILITY OF YOUR BONES? HAVE YOU REALIZED, THIS EARTH, WE DO NOT OWN?
0
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
Clocks and Quarters
He said I had Pretty, Blue eyes like his. So I shut my eyes real tight. I never wanted that Monster's eyes. My eyes are my own, right? he wore a disguise of a Man, But he's an impostor. all he'll ever be is a Monster, at least in the eyes of who he dare call his "daughter" The Blue eyed monster lay on my bed not under. I yelled out so fearfully loud, that It's no wonder I'm afraid of thunder. And, ever since I've been begging my eyes to change their color. I knew my life was a little rough. But I always had just enough. And there was never anyone to be jealous of. But, I heard Jealousy being called The Green Eyed Monster. Green's better than blue. Green's so much better than the thought of you. So, I asked Jealousy to consume me. Invited the Green Eyed Monster in the room with me. and asked it to plant some Jealousy to bloom in me. Can you make it into a perfume then spray it on me? I wanted jealousy to live in me. But now, that isn't who I wanna be. And I'm no longer Jealous that you get to keep the family. They took your side, but they were better off without me. Never looked back, but they woulda found out something about me. Something to ponder, my eyes are pretty, Green sometimes, sometimes Blue, but not like you. Because I'm not a monster © copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 4:38 AM UTC
Monster