"lessin" poems
I don't understand why the innocent must pay for the treacherous ways
Why they must be cut down like trees without ever getting a say
Constantly being picked at as if they are the turkey on thanksgiving day
The only difference is they don't get a silver tray
No,their trays are where ever they finally collapse from the pressure
Maybe they'd get lucky and fall in bed of roses
Like it would make difference anyways;
Still the carving knives would be feet that trample upon them,
And the forks would be fist that lay waste to their remains
Their tears would be flavor that was locked in their tender meat
As they curl up in ball trying to lessin the pain
The pain,the endless nightmare they deal with every single day
That is the toll they must pay
Waiting for their bodies to finally decay
Until then they are a mp3 stuck on replay
Living the same life over and over again
Some days the pain is actually worse;
The bleeding scare tissue never really goes away
It is just reopened wider everyday
At times it gets so bad they just lay
As they stare at the clouds that pass by
Smiling begging them to stay,
But no they always go away
That is when the blade comes into play
Finally they would close their eyes and began to pray
Look the other way and just say
"So the treacherous finally got their way¨
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
No justice no peace
Doesn’t mean shoot the police
They’re not all savage beast’
Can we agree on this at least
It’s a difficult job they do
While protecting me and you
They have a right to go home too
But then you already knew
Everyday all the time
They put their lives on the line
If I have to I’ll remind - you
That it takes a special kind
So let’s all pause to recognize
Is it just for us to demonize
The Golden Rule also applies
Let me suggest that’s recognized
It’s a noble profession
So let it be an object lesson
When we need ‘em they’re a blessin’
Which occasional misdeeds doesn’t lessin’
You’ll concede this at least
If we want crime to decrease
We need their ranks to increase
Without ‘em who would keep the peace
I’m not a police apologist
When they’re killed I get ******
Because the major point is missed
They too have a right to exist
Ask yourself where would we be
As a civil society
In this land of the brave and free
If the police cease to be
© Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 9:27 AM UTC
Slit wrists, stained kisses; the night of young
and dark thoughts to succumb. All at once, was
dreaming so fun, before the nightmare of daily life.
Surpassing the intent of suicide, staring at that
knife in pen. Then again—ink bleeds out onto
the paper's spread. _~the dark thoughts of my head._
Where I'll lie, laiden on a maiden I'd want to kiss,
a girl to call a Miss. And a softer wall to my fist.
Knuckles cracked in two by the bone; the flesh torn
as I'm fighting my demons on my own. _~what's the score?_
__10-0__
Ten of the times I feel like a zero, in the eyes
of imagining myself a comical hero. I'm a villain;
self antagonist in doubting my potential. Eggshell
walking steps from taking a risk. _~a little too careful._
Mediocre—the media oak of it's power to grow
in longevity, endurance. Enduring the worst parts
of me—in a Hell pit swallowing me. The burn marks
of scratching shoulders of the crowd to acknowledge me.
To be called a young Prodigy; _~with great honesty._
But honestly; I'm waiting for things not seasoned
in the time. In the directionless ways of a life with
no signs, or boundary lines I haven't drawn.
Covering a heel to bites of snakes slithering on my lawn.
If I got a loan for a night's success, what would the
world want in return? _~hopefully not my soul._
All my confessions; these deep depressions,
counting out my sins with the fingers of my blessings.
Hoping they aren't lessin, in the world's quick call to
change, is to keep on weaponing. _~wars are all we know._
Even the ones we never fought. We've been taught
how to fight back before the fighting began. Perhaps
we try our best at fighting alone. _~that's the way of
the world._
Jul 25, 2022
Jul 25, 2022 at 3:31 PM UTC
what little garamble
of smirtin accors this
off the page miramble
sossin and ossinn rought
ime an lessin aim aim so
Sep 3, 2022
Sep 3, 2022 at 12:01 AM UTC