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"inaccurately" poems
A collection of saliva sits on the ground. The substance heaped in a short little mound. Attention drawn from all around. As the boy sits in clothes from the lost and found.         Covered in *****                     A pant soaked burden A question asked during learnin’                                                   The answer being Martin Van Buren                    Told he shouldn’t be in school               By those glaringly cruel.           Constantly made to seem the fool. Leading to an increase in the pouring drool.                        His eyes sit at an angle.               Bulging out as if enduring a quick strangle.        Caught in the shine of a young girl’s bangle. He twists his hair into a locked tangle. The girl bats an eye.                                  His mouth goes dry. A boy flicks a small paper ball.      It sits in the air to pivot and stall.                                 Lands inaccurately out in the hall                                               The teacher seizes it bracing up against the wall. Unfolds the note,         And reads what he wrote. It held a cruel remark. About handicap spaces and keeping him for the sake of a quick park. The boy didn’t wish he were dead.                 Nor was he agonized by the insult recently said.        The remark went right over his head,     He was stuck thinking about how sympathy only comes to those who have bled.
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
Trisomy 21
A collection of saliva sits on the ground. The substance heaped in a short little mound. Attention drawn from all around. As the boy sits in clothes from the lost and found.         Covered in *****                     A pant soaked burden A question asked during learnin’                                                   The answer being Martin Van Buren                    Told he shouldn’t be in school               By those glaringly cruel.           Constantly made to seem the fool. Leading to an increase in the pouring drool.                        His eyes sit at an angle.               Bulging out as if enduring a quick strangle.        Caught in the shine of a young girl’s bangle. He twists his hair into a locked tangle. The girl bats an eye.                                  His mouth goes dry. A boy flicks a small paper ball.      It sits in the air to pivot and stall.                                 Lands inaccurately out in the hall                                               The teacher seizes it bracing up against the wall. Unfolds the note,         And reads what he wrote. It held a cruel remark. About handicap spaces and keeping him for the sake of a quick park. The boy didn’t wish he were dead.                 Nor was he agonized by the insult recently said.        The remark went right over his head,     He was stuck thinking about how sympathy only comes to those who have bled.
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30
Why do girls lie to themselves and tell themselves, I'm a six when they're really an eight? Why do we inaccurately portray ourselves and seek to obtain these impossible standards and gaze at our thighs for hours wondering why did I ever let this happen to me or noone will ever love me if I look like this we'll hunch over our stomach rolls and wish we could slice them off with a blade and they'd heal back flat, all the fat gone; we'll wonder how anyone could find us pretty and we'll doubt if they do because the only boys who have ever been nice to us are either playing a cruel joke or are our fathers. But here's some news: who you are is not defined by your poundage or the amount of lipids stored under your chin, when you sit down, how far your thighs push out; or even that terrible bit of fat under your arms when you wave bye to your gorgeously thin friends. Who you are is not merely 'pretty' or 'skinny' and I desperately don't want you judging yourself on what some boy's favorite part of your body is or what passerby think of your *** your body is more than skin deep, your body is more than fat, you have muscles and organs and things too, there are more important things, like how strong your heart is or how many gasps your lungs have had- those things make you a valuable, important human being because fat- well- that's not what makes you who you are. And that's not what I love you for, because darling, my favorite part of your body is your mind.
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Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
Bodies
The Wings of a black bird curves, As he’s deterred by the winds resistance Contemplating its exist, but his will to go on is persistent You see, he doesn't know what’s to gain Or if he’ll find truth in those old sayings Disputing myths and pointing out counterfeits Depicting things in the distance, like he has a sixth sense Reading the fine print on prescriptions, Vulture’s find their addictions from the God’s Because they have plenty of victims. More than ****** or ******* Crack is wack, Mary Jane causes no pain Medicines that aren't natural **** humans like its casual Causalities building faster than the words of Socrates The FAD of the F.D.A. approving poison as food like aspartame. Preachers teaching blasphemy, Reading scriptures inaccurately, Tickling the ears of those that pay a dollar to hear That Jesus is coming there’s nothing to fear So they believe they’ll be long gone before destruction is near Death is at the door, but evolution is around the corner The revolution will have to hold them No true solution to control them You see we are the caged beings They lock our brains in Books of lies, and entertaining T.V.
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Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 8:09 PM UTC
Black Bird
We could not accurately identify The two children in the photograph, So we did the space-time hop, and found ourselves to be; Underneath that large, gnarled tree. The picture had inaccurately described The details we now found this place to embody: Once a marsh, Now entirely wetlands, and Tree... Was an island, of its own. Strewn of bark, reeds, and root from below, was Woman nestled up to Tree. She was not separate, but consisting entirely of, && bound, To Tree. And as we gazed, you and i. Her weathered face, && sunken eyes, did my spine begin to tingle, and her eyes; a twinkle. As she twisted her head, fixed her gaze upon my own, And we stared... Deeply into each other’s wonder. That was only moments ago.
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Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
Gnarled Tree & Tera
I found the Garden of Eden and remained for two years I soon found this haven to be inaccurately named For this was not a place I loved And in that moment, I could not escape I fought to swallow what my heart wept To keep from drowning I built a turret atop my chest Soon fields of gold turned to rag My touch went vile and with it reaped ingenuous seeds Now I must wait in vain for granted clemency
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Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 12:50 PM UTC
Untitled 3
Sparks suspected to have caused this flame to be ignited Put under pressure to hide it, conceal it, deny it Insecurities and greed are the main culprits of all the violence Curses foretold as warnings in the planets' alignment Ignorance has been molded into an art or a science If it isn't explicit, expect that they've securely implied it So many sounds, go deaf and then drown in the silence Invading homes and thoughts as though it was invited Truth exposed is sneakily altered to disguise it Misleading masses to control a majority's mindset Freedom lost as they prevent attempts to revive it Attempts to distract from the reality that existence is timeless Peace of mind secured when tensions are excited Crippling angels to prevent the liberty of flying Heavily fueled by a cocktail of deciet mixed with spite Significant events whispered as pointless wars are incited Think of unity as a gryphon paralyzed and rendered flightless Crowds convinced to be content when mindless The search continues for those not mentally lifeless What is considered humanity's finest Authenticity has yet to be provided It widens the gap that has us divided The flame of those being blindly misguided Runs the risk of roaring wildfires being ignited No requests for your all, you've already supplied it Made oblivious during the time of a crisis Values labeled on treasures proven priceless Privacy no longer permitted to be private Eyes wide open yet views remain sightless Individuality, a thing of which we may one day be reminded Exterminations ordered of all those free and enlightened Fortune concealed as the desperate all struggle to find it Identities and dignity become commonly traded If only they knew they were being violated Unfortunately, their ignorance has been properly validated After the ****** I wonder who lives to inaccurately explain it
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Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 12:19 AM UTC
Changing Climate
Sparks suspected to have caused this flame to be ignited Put under pressure to hide it, conceal it, deny it Insecurities and greed are the main culprits of all the violence Curses foretold as warnings in the planets' alignment Ignorance has been molded into an art or a science If it isn't explicit, expect that they've securely implied it So many sounds, go deaf and then drown in the silence Invading homes and thoughts as though it was invited Truth exposed is sneakily altered to disguise it Misleading masses to control a majority's mindset Freedom lost as they prevent attempts to revive it Attempts to distract from the reality that existence is timeless Peace of mind secured when tensions are excited Crippling angels to prevent the liberty of flying Heavily fueled by a cocktail of deciet mixed with spite Significant events whispered as pointless wars are incited Think of unity as a gryphon paralyzed and rendered flightless Crowds convinced to be content when mindless The search continues for those not mentally lifeless What is considered humanity's finest Authenticity has yet to be provided It widens the gap that has us divided The flame of those being blindly misguided Runs the risk of roaring wildfires being ignited No requests for your all, you've already supplied it Made oblivious during the time of a crisis Values labeled on treasures proven priceless Privacy no longer permitted to be private Eyes wide open yet views remain sightless Individuality, a thing of which we may one day be reminded Exterminations ordered of all those free and enlightened Fortune concealed as the desperate all struggle to find it Identities and dignity become commonly traded If only they knew they were being violated Unfortunately, their ignorance has been properly validated After the ****** I wonder who lives to inaccurately explain it
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36
it's funny how many assumptions one can make, simply by looking at a person—it's the reason so many stereotypes were created throughout time i suppose. people figured one or two things about an individual, could configure an entire category for certain humans, but the reality is; that's not possible, for every single one is different in particular ways. and that is why stereotypes and labels, all that ******** that's why i say that they are society's way of expressing how lazy it is, to not take the time to know one another, and rather generalizing inaccurately. it's a sad thing, really. but you cannot judge a book by it's cover, you must discover the first chapter to recognize it's true gems, that could lead up to a whole cavern of jewels.
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Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 6:05 PM UTC
assumptions