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Talia Rose Feb 2016
In a society, image is everything. You are judged from the people you hang out with, the things you do, the clothes you wear.  People shout out that the boy sitting in the corner of gym class is too fat or whisper about how that girl down the hall is far too skinny.  The head of the dance team is told she has one too many curves and should not be “poppin’ and lockin’” with so much confidence, yet the cheerleader is criticized for her petite stature and flat chest.  The boy with the glasses?  He gets bullied daily for his lack of social activity, meanwhile the football **** is faking his confidence and putting on a persona simply to hold up his high school reputation.

Children grow up with the assurance that beauty is on the inside, and that what is on the outside doesn’t matter, yet this statement has proven itself to be false time and time again.  These children were lied to.  You were lied to.  I was lied to. The world is cruel.  It is judgmental and ignorant.  People are turned down their dream jobs over the most miniscule stupidities, such as the fact that they have a tattoo on their arm or because their hair is purple.  You are judged at every corner of your journey, and your world will always revolve around the physicality of how you look.  

No matter how many people believe that appearance is of little importance, there is always a whole world behind them willing to prove them wrong.  But that doesn’t mean we cannot dream.  Dream.  That’s all it is.  That promise that who you are on the inside is enough? It’s all a dreamful desire to look past the image your body presents.  And if dreaming is the only hope we have at being seen as our true self, than you better believe I’m going to keep on dreaming.

Because of the picture society has set out for me, I’ve constantly looked in the mirror seeing nothing but a disappointment.  Every day I find a new flaw, and every day, I realize I am even further from perfection.  But if I can dream that who I am on the inside is enough, than maybe I can become one of the first perfect imperfections out there.

You see, I have never wanted to be perfect, nor do I want to now.  Quite honestly, I don’t believe that perfection exists.  It is a myth.  And yet, everyone seems to be reaching to the stars, going out of their way to attain even the smallest ounce of this so called perfectionism.  Whatever you are reaching for, stop.  Stop and hear me out.  

Beauty is neither from within nor without.  Right is neither in this way nor in that way.  And perfection is neither in your world or mine.  Because we are one in the same.  And the only way to be what our society is calling perfect is to be as imperfect as possible.  Be yourself, because no matter what you do, I can promise you that you will be judged. With every step you take, expect a shadow to crawl up behind you and tell you are doing it wrong.  Expect to be an outcast and to not fit in “perfectly.” Expect to be criticized and ridiculed, because it will happen anyways.  Why are you going to strive to be perfect and risk losing yourself, when you can simply embrace each and every flaw to create the most beautiful imperfection possible?  Don’t live to please others.  Don’t strive to be perfect when perfection is nonexistent.  Embrace what your mamma gave you and rock each imperfection like it is no one else’s business. Because in the end, this is your dream, and being the captain of your own voyage is the only way to make it worth it.  It is the only way to become perfectly imperfect.
Àŧùl Feb 2019
You can experience it
Coming from most of
The writers around the
Block of Writers Block
Only to be saved by the
Bunch of Writers from
The Writers' Block.

They can call you names,
Ranging from A ******
To A Grammar ****.
But don't be put off,
Don't be put out,
Just hold on.
Hold your ground.

You might have OCD,
The Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,
Don't worry - just channel it well.
Channel it well and play your tunes,
Don't worry about the runes,
They will be all covered with ink.
Yes, the electronic ink.

For all eternity, they say,
You can never achieve perfection,
And it should not concern you.
Just remember your wordlust,
Coin new and better words,
Just play your sweet lute.
Yes, you are so cute.

"What's so cataclysmic about the apostrophe?"
You asked me,
And legitimately so.
It's the difference 'tween us,
Perfection and poets,
Godliness and humaneness.
Divinity and profanity.

"Yes, perfection is sacrilege,"
I say, "Perfection is an ambition,"
"Of humanity and nature."
I take a deep breath before saying,
"In the knowledge available,"
"It's just a figment."
You ask me, "Where is it located?"

I say:
Find it 'fore some letters,
You can find it afta' some letters,
Lockin'n'poppin words together,
The apostrophe is so savoury & flexible
I just hope that I never become,
A Grammar Apostate -
I'll rather be ill instead.
My HP Poem #1732
©Atul Kaushal
Louis Fraser May 2012
Boxin' up progression
Lockin' down session
Rockin up to lesson
Dressed
Fine pressed
Geared up for givin' blessin's
Confessin' to felons
Commitin' crimes
Soakin' up voddy in our melons
Shoddy villains lookin' back at us
Jhon Goddi riddums
Billin' em for scandalous
Band of trust
Lost
Wankers spittin fictitious
Malicious lies
Leaves respect for wise guys sleepin' with the fishs
They say act is the blossom of thought
So I'm pop lockin'
Boogaloo Shrimpin' with the hair do and what not
Level of beast? Never
I 'm caught in the war zone
This concrete jungle, Quantum sea aLive in stereo
Go with the flow
Made with Love like moms cooking,
Soul music, Knowledge and Kronik,
Plus the cold brewtus
Drums smashing leave a ***** and eye jammy
Eye and eye, Marley
Rasta fire Space Jammin'...
Påłpëbŕå Oct 2021
dilated pupils
heated skin
amazing skills
a hell lot of sin
beating hearts
***** talkin'
tasting tarts
lips lockin'
burning desire
heightening senses
a spread fire
in love soaked lenses
hands all around
still not enough
blindfolded and bound
in the lust cuffs
a **** is she
or a ***** you call
a wanton spree
rising to fall
in a pleasure so deep
so raw so forbidden
a secret she'll keep
and stay hidden
filled with shame
her wildness she tames
Lookin' back on a memory
I seen the treachery scorn from.slavery
No realness that's what I feel.in me
blacks performing without the make up
take a look around you coonin' for you
the audience is the trick elites can **** a ****
if that ain't feelin' my ****
I shake up Hells Pits
I'm telling the truth open up ya eyes
I can't compromise
this new ******* settin' us back centuries?
Did Malcolm Martin and Edgers
die for free???
Naw lookin' at the black community
with an hawks eye view look how the new media spew
pawnin' off all this garbage *** new pop
emcees whites wanna be like me
so bad they glamorize off us
cause they kids can't feel us our real **** bust
play only old school records
that's my taste
eradicatin' smiles off corporate elites
pushin' Black face



Now some say the past is the past
how when I keep gettin' a newsflash about the past
twelve years a slave the help now the butler
I despise the ******* muthaphukka
and they say I'm racist I spit the truth
so what if it comes out chopped tooth
blowin' brains on the roof
once the topic is dropped **** all these phonies givin' them.props
I swear these nigguhs be actin like cops
steadily plottin' and waitin'
See a brother rise consciously he's suddenly
look down upon as an enemy
to America's epitome
yo I don't let the ******* worry me.bury me
with no name no tears to follow
I'll be remembered today but forgotten tomorrow
but my young thugs you can make.a change
powers in mind and pistols my word hit like missile
blowin' minds like land mines watch me climb
to the top though I'll be labeled
as a hater lil deebie riff raff iggy is straight up trash I know there greater
talent on the earth my own kind can get the shine
but these white youth puttin' Hip hop on the flat line
**** these company's pushin' Black face without the make up
look at Andy and Amos straight racism
now wake.up
black America they lockin' us down
and we ain't even makin' a sound
sometimes I wonder if it worth dying for my peeps
I rather conversate with the dead
like they still here feelin' no no fear

in this black face world
dennis drain Apr 2015
im popin im lockin im wonderin why
sit back relax smoke this blunt and get high
now ***** lets ride **** a drive by
ill walk up to yo *** and blast you gooodbie
`reeeeeeeeee3
The Calm Sep 2017
These past couple weeks it's been hard for me to sleep
These last couple weeks I've been up late at night counting sheep
These past couple nights when I close my eyes, tears begin to fall, I begin to weep
Tears that only my pillow knows, tears that rip only into the sheets
But when I do fall asleep, I dream
I dream of a tomorrow that's better than today
I dream of a place where my head, I could lay
I dream of a world where the skies aren't grey, I dream
Cause the grey skies mean it'll rain
From that rain I'll have no shelter, and my writings on the wall will all wash away
I dream of a world without tyrants, un-natural men
That claim to make their country great, but push the world to an end
I dream of a world without black or white, the color of man's skin
that make fright or fight
I dream of a world where the  color of my skin does not decide whether or not I win
I dream of a world where genetics does not decide the fate of my kin
I dream of a world where Cancer does not make people rot in their breast, brain or bone
I dream of a world where people don't brain-wash children from babies and make sure their seeds of hate and bigotry are sewn
I dream of a world with no more broken hearts, no more broken homes, no more lockin doors, no more cops patrollin, no more abusive words , or abusive touches, no more cancerous cells that'll take our loved ones.
But then my dreams end, and I wake up to my broken heart, and this broken world
To dream is to believe, and trust me I believe
That faith is the evidence of things unseen
But I don't just believe cause this is something I've seen
It's something that I know,
that from the ashes a new forest can grow
From the flood a new season came come, from whatever disaster you may be facing a new day day has begun.
So I rise from my defeat, blood boiling from the flames below my feet, and from the fire in my heart. Today is when I start this new era in my life, I refuse to live in strife, and to go sleep in pain, in tears.
Brandi the Brave Jun 2021
You walked into youth group like you owned the place with your mother not far behind you. It was the 6th grade. I couldn't stop staring at you. You hung out with the gothic kids in middle school.
I hung out with the nerdy kids in middle school. On my birthday we slept over at your house in town. You chose me to be your best friend. You came from a rich family. I came from a poor family. You were an artist, I was a creative writer.
In the 7th grade you brought new friends who came from rich families to youth group. When they started bullying me, you fought for my honor and starting bringing your gothic friends to youth group. You the creative indie, goth girl and me the creative nerdy girl. We broke societal norms. I never doubted your instincts for one second. You moved away to Bloomington-Normal and you were excited. But you kept coming back for me. On my birthday we went to the Rockin' Lockin'. You brought a crowd and I adored every minute with you.
In the 8th grade you moved back to Ohio, you came back for me. You had your spark in your grayish-blue eyes. Girls wanted to be you and boys wanted to date you. Yet you chose me as your best friend.
In my freshman year of high school, church wasn't the same without you even youth group seemed empty without you. You were my missing piece. You came back before my birthday. You slept over at my place and went to the Rockin' Lockin' together as always. 5 days before my birthday I loss you, my best friend.
Stu Harley Jan 2018
i
be lockin'
i
be poppin'
i
be
half-steppin'
to
the
moon rockin'
sage eugene zumr Aug 2023
frothin often off a noddin
rhythmic tic talkin bout a
slick jottin my emission rotten
might've missed the molten
lava lockin in on the object
at Hansel fox be fraudened
ever notve options options
option noticed pick a posted
motive open focus loctus slick
as any loaded pistol poppin
clip the clifford dog a goddess
wouldnt wonton all before i open
shop an let em purchase trodden
liquids made for robbin
ickness on a spot spit click
ticky torn a crop fore i
sloppily gotta beast a beat and
bee and be a modesty atleast
to honey makin prodigies
before i lead this oddesy.

— The End —