"losers" poems
White folks: pack your bags and go.
Our nut-brown world is quite offended.
Make your shame-faced exit NOW,
And leave your mansions unattended.
Wait—before you pass the doors,
It's time to settle ethnic scores.
No more ragtime Minstrel Show.
Our Moorish Science took it down.
Black lives matter. White, less so—
Now move your pale face out of town . . .
But first, shell out for racial shame
Caucasian losers of the game.
Cultural pride is ours alone:
Kings and Egyptian queens we were.
The glories of our race, well-known
Bedazzle in a darkened blur
(Clear to Africa's descendants—
Puzzling to you white dependents).
Blackness lent your world its light,
Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers.
Scandinavia grew bright
Under our beneficent powers.
Negroes gave your blondes their beauty;
Helped those Norsemen shake their *****
The Seven Wonders of the world:
We built them all. No vain conjecture
Dims our banner, black, unfurled,
Above eternal architecture.
Arts and knowledge gained from us
Are what we threaten to discuss.
We invented math and science
Which you robbed from Timbuktu.
Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance
Caused Old Europe to renew.
All our treasure that you plundered
Testifies: your days are numbered.
Classics of our Greeks you stole:
Philosophy was never yours.
Shame upon your racist soul;
For Bach and Mozart both were Moors.
Misappropriated treasures
call for ruthless hard-line measures.
Latino fate falls next—but, where ?
Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ?
Orientals everywhere:
Choose your side and join the fight.
Blackness rising! Late the hour;
Heed your call to fight the power.
Crackers need to check your race—
Stop rooting for that ****** clown.
Rednecks all up in our face;
Racist throwbacks got us down.
But as your statues bite the dust
Your light goes dark (you know it must).
So move on out, oppressor, thief.
Long have you held our nation back.
In some white galaxy seek relief—
But here the light itself is black.
Stars are racist. So is the sun.
Now let God's great black will be done.
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
You weren’t worth the
Hundred dollars it cost to
Keep you in my car.
Princess got poached by the
League of Losers with Pedestrian Ideals.
I’d spit venom in your direction, if
Poison meant anything to you. But
Akin to most things, so sub-human,
You miss the world moving around your
Ever pulsating veins, and repel these
Toxins with a slip of the tongue.
Around you I could line
Bodies of those you’d loved and left.
Each clasping hands with one another,
Privy to a specific type of pain, only you can
Deal out. And
In the center of the circle you’d
Stare, stunned by your state of
Affairs, and flings. Collectively concerned
For the safety of your
Rotting consciousness.
One by one, I could set these men
On fire, and hand you a place
Where your head could be danced off.
Drunken and diving heart-first into
The burning lake of a
Surfable crowd. Since that’s
All we are, serfs.
I hope the fire gets too close to your
Gorgeous face. I hope the
Love you receive is no more likable
Than a few more licks from the flames.
The scars couldn’t sideline you.
No one can stop ****
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
I Craw in the Urban Jungle night after night, making shadows my best friend
Because my pale skin would get sunburn in the day time.
Many of you have read about me on the internet,
But don't know if we exist like the Yeti or Bigfoot
Every now and then you see photos of me and hear stories about our existence
But here I am, White, Nerdy and…. Nerdy
Nerdy like the Nerds falling out of the box and skipping on the floor of my lair
(or my parents basement whatever you call it).
Some moments you will find me praying to my shrine for my savior, Weird Al Yankovic
Many of you may call us “ Losers”
But let me take a moment to tell you why you are wrong, in every way.
First off, We are not losers we just win at things that you don't care about
Like the Rubik's Cube, Dungeon and Dragons, and Larping
We don’t care about making friends, getting the poo tang, or getting high off of our *****
No we are too occupied trying to plan how we will survive the zombie apocalypse,
Or debating on if Star Wars is better than Star Track.
We are too busy reading comic books, Leveling up our one handedness
On Skyrim of course.
You think that we are hideous,
But in all reality, my acne improves my defenses against mother nature,
My braces are actually tools that government uses so they can reflect solar flares back to space
I'm ugly because god decided to make me pick up girls on ******** mode because before you Meet me it was way too easy.
Many of you think that we are weak
I may have spaghetti arms, no abs, but you know what, no problem,
Because if you look at my shadow, you see someone that 10 feet tall and bulletproof
I am a nerd, hear me roar.
My roar breaks your paper thin confidence
As it just floats in the wind like leaves, leaving the tree in October
My roar will rock your house with all of your friends leaving you alone because in the end, you May be popular but lets be honest, who are your real friends?
Call me weak, I dare you
Being a nerd has taught me many things
Like don't eat cake because it is deceiving
And that Neo should of taken the blue pill
Because that movie series was terrible.
And that DC Comics is the best, ***** Marvel
But the one thing it taught me the most is that be proud of myself.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
1. De-Colonize This Space
Drum circle protests genderplop demands
Indigenous discount store camouflage
We demand persistent stereotypes
Solidarity initiative project
Take back the people’s cultural statues
Ethnographic curatorial practices
Red spray paint fire imperialism
Repatriate the Iphone Starbuck’s cups
And don’t forget the “Hey! Hey! ** **
Because we’re, like, artists and stuff, you know?
2. De-Colonize This Space Too
Guns and cholesterol made America great
Fat white boys in discount store camouflage
Duct-tape the Bible and the border wall
We won our freedom with our Kalashnikovs
Fake news back-stabber not a war hero
SecondAmendmentSecondAmendment
Lock her up get ‘em outta here yuge deal
You RINO losers can grab my MAGA
You snowflakes are sissies, you millennials too
But ouch! my heel spurs hurt, oh boo-hoo-hoo!
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 3:02 PM UTC
My mother was
a first generation lesbian.
My father,
a first generation divorcee.
His father was the one child
of a public school teacher.
He found my grandmother at 18.
A farm child, one of seven.
A painter, a baker.
My mother's father
a single boy to three sisters.
His aggressive masculinity
kept the line clear and thick.
He found my mother's mother at 17.
A middle of seven Pentecostal children.
A beauty queen, an agoraphobic.
Each had five children.
The door-to-door salesmen/
homemaker and mother of boys duo
bet it all to open a hobby shop.
They were by far the poorest of the
watermelon farming siblings.
They were artists and explorers.
The high school graduate and ladies man,
was a logger before a father.
And the single mother of 25 he left
scarcely left her home at all.
Neither pair made it big.
But they made my father.
A lonely, post middle aged man.
The poorest of his brothers.
A used to be pilot,
and could have been teacher,
a want to be pioneer.
A nuclear family super fan
who never got his way.
And they made my mother.
A nervous, eccentric hippie
who doesn't know how to talk to her siblings.
A woman working her *** off to excel at lower middle class.
A builder, a fighter, a **** good mother.
Even if accidentally so.
She has plans to travel.
He has dreams to live by a lake.
And they made me.
A single girl among three boys.
A quirky, nervous tomboy.
A thinker, a gardener, a climber.
A loser and a dreamer by blood.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
Much has been said
against me
however,
I will not be spiteful
or allow hatred,
the beast of darkness
that resides
in the black jungles
of arrogance
and ignorance,
to infect me;
for that is no reason
to give way to anger.
So I refuse to let anger
ugly my heart;
for anger
is the scorpion’s poison
of peace
and love, it’s sunlight.
I choose light
contentment and happiness,
as poetry’s not a contest
of winners or losers;
it is the essence
of a poet’s soul.
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 7:52 AM UTC
I just want to ask one question
Is the human race obeying the mathematical rule called BODMAS?
Just a refresher...
Brackets, Orders, Division, Multiplication, Addition and Subtraction
We have created different brackets
where we enclose people like casket
He's black, she's white, they are rich,
those are poor, she's educated, he's religious, he's fat, she's slim... Brackets
People are treated differently
Based on the class that we've put them in
Some are raised to power like exponents
Others are trapped in like square roots...Orders
The segregation has only intensified our division
I don't fit in here, I belong over there
My group is stronger, those ones are losers... Division
Disunity and absence of love has caused
A multiplication of our problems
Threats, deportation, persecution
We don't like them, we'll bomb them
War, insurgency, terrorism, hate speech... Just problems Multiplication
Every second, our population is experiencing several additions
Our population keeps growing while
Our natural resources are being exploited
And depleting at a rate faster than our population growth
Our resources are experiencing severe subtractions
I just want to ask one more time...
Aren't we obeying BODMAS?
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 8:01 PM UTC
We are the ******* we are the spicks.
We are the kykes, we are the hicks.
We're the one's who wait our turn,
To read the books you wish to burn.
We are the honkies, the mussies with guns.
We are the beaten, the poor and the dumb.
We see the horrors, the mistrust and the hate.
We are the people, the ones who relate.
We are the chinks, the bindis, the *****
We are the losers, the mixed and the muts.
We are alone, left to fight.
We are the ones crying at night.
We are the triggers, set on the gun.
We are the fighters, refusing to run.
We see the world through darkened glass.
We see each other as mutants to pass.
If only we learn, it could be done...
We are all different, but we are all one.
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
I try to write a poem,
but poems are too hard
Rhyming is for losers
and airy-fairy bards
To put a pen to paper
and write about your life
I've had enough of all of those,
they only cause me strife
Free-verse script is awful,
for fools without a beat
Repetition's far too simple
just repeat, repeat, REPEAT
Those lovey-dovey ode-things,
that wishy-washy crap
And poems about hatred,
you all deserve a slap
Spare me all your ramblings,
I don't care how you feel
Your self-expression surely stinks
of mouldy day-old eel
To tell a tale of wonder
never ceases too be trite
To sing of magic wonders
is nothing but pure *****
Your metaphors are useless,
your imagery is vile
Your sense of diction makes me gag,
I cannot stand your "style"
So save me your quotations,
please spare me all your rhyme
Shove that poem up your rear
and cease to waste my time
I look at what I've written,
this jumble of clichés
Looks like I wrote a ****** poem
so I'm the one to blame!
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
True equality is what is wished for
But what if you really opened that door
What would be on the other side?
I’m not sure we’d enjoy the ride
Individuality dies with equality
There are no choices you see
If everyone has to have the same things
No one gets to win the brass ring
No more people like you and people like me
If the same is all we ever get to be
The same model car and the same clothes
The same old food in the same homes
The same haircut and the same color
Or we are all clean shaved so much the duller
The same education for everybody
You’re paid the same as anybody
Sports would all end in a tie
If there still played at all… sigh
No more winners, No more losers
No choices so no choosers
There are no differing opinions you see
When you’re a victim of true equality
No reason to strive
There is no ladder to climb
No reward for hard work
Are you feeling the irk?
No matter what, you cannot get ahead
It’s almost as if you are full of lead
But that just it, no ahead to get
When everyone gets what everyone gets
The Thought police are out in full force
No one is married or there is no divorce
No kids at all or everyone has 2
There is no longer me and no longer you
When equal society is the important thing
Everyone gets to feel every sting
Orwellian yes
But truth none the less
The only people different are the ones in charge
While everyone suffers they live it large
They get to decide how much you’re alive
And they can tell you 2+2=5
So how does this strike you?
Will that work for you too?
I’m not a fan
Of this little plan
Because not everyone is the same
No matter what people will claim
We don’t think the same thoughts
We don’t call the same shots
Not even twins are exactly the same
And if we all were, what a boring game
Just a bunch of clones, going nowhere
Just dull and drab, no bling and no flair.
Yet that is what current society prescribes
Even though were all from different tribes
If we ever achieve true equality
Remember sometimes wishes end badly
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 8:19 AM UTC
With my two eyes
This world is very different
From every angle and from every side
With these two eyes
I see a world of chaos
Wars are “won”
Wars are “lost”
But both sides lose
Because lives will never be the same
Homes are destroyed
Lives are lost
Families destroyed
Nobody wins during the war
There are no two sides
There’s only one:
We’re all losers
People are suffering from pain
People are walking down roads
Roads without names
But feelings and emotions
Guys walk down the road call heartbreak
Girls walk down the road call confusion
They meet at the same road:
Self doubt and lack of confidence
They drink the same drink every night:
Tears from the past experiences
Experiences that cut the deepest in their hearts
Children are without food
Children are without shelter
Children are without parents
They cry on the side of roads
Because they have no one to take of them
Hurricanes ruin towns
Earthquakes destroy nations
Ashes rain from the sky
Like tears from Satan
Through my two eyes
The world is a disaster
But when I put on my glasses
The world looks peaceful
When I look around with my four eyes
Everyone holding hands
And spreading the love
Everyone lives by three cardinal principals:
Peace
Love
Happiness
Through these four eyes
Everyone and everything are at peace
There are no wars
There are no tears
And there is no destruction
There is nothing but Peace
Love is always in the air
People are spreading the love
People hug each other
People are holding hands
There is no hatred
But only Love
Little children are running around
Playing sports with other children
Everyone is laughing
Everyone is smiling
Everyone is happy
There are no guns
There is no displeasure
Through my four eyes
Peace
Love
And Happiness
Are in the air
And that’s the world that I see
And what I always want to see
I want to see this world through my four eyes
And I will pass my glasses around to everyone
So we can all see what I see
The world I see through my eyes
Oct 10, 2011
Oct 10, 2011 at 1:54 PM UTC
The new definition of forbidden
is "attempt to obtain"
to try with hopes of success
in the game of the insane
the outcome is always evident
the stakes are always high
a battle sometimes imminent
but the limit is the sky
the game is a labyrinth
the goal is undefined
looking for the rules?
just read between the lines
the losers are complaining
the sly ones always win
if you want to taste the forbidden
now's a good time to begin
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC
They whine and cry-
"This country is going to the dogs."
They complaint and protest-
"Down with this corrupt government."
They crib and blame-
"Pull down those lazy thieving ********
But when it's time, on Election day
They take the day off, they holiday
The Whining Losers, they say -
"Ah, let a few Morons go and vote
I am above politics,
What matter's it to me."
Dare you not raise another finger,
Dare you not whine and complaint.
You're not a part of democracy.
You're what this country bears in vain.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 3:52 AM UTC
When Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs,
he forgot the copperheads and the assassin...
in the dust, in the cool tombs.
And Ulysses Grant lost all thought of con men and Wall Street,
cash and collateral turned ashes...
in the dust, in the cool tombs.
Pocahontas' body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red haw
in November or a pawpaw in May, did she wonder? does she remember?...
in the dust, in the cool tombs?
Take any streetful of people buying clothes and groceries,
cheering a hero or throwing confetti and blowing tin horns...
tell me if the lovers are losers...
tell me if any get more than the lovers...
in the dust...
in the cool tombs.
6k
Twenty third June twenty sixteen
The biggest vote we’d ever seen
Results are in and Brexit win
and many say it’s such a sin
Those who voted not to leave
This news they just could not believe
Sore losers showed their bitter anguish
soon from Europe we would vanish
Let’s vote again remainers say
'No vote again' says Theresa May
Our country voted in or out
and voted out without a doubt
The apple cart tipped on its head
Britain in Europe would soon be dead
Now Brexit was born the following morn.
This beautiful kingdom from Europe be torn
Remainers are mad while leavers are glad
Great Britain is out there is no doubt
So shut up remainers, accept what is done
We voted together and Brexit won
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 4:08 PM UTC
They call it a 'Class War"
They call it a "War of Liberation"
whilst its just another instance of white oppression
Childish, immature, mean and nasty underachievers
like the kid on the beach who kicks over others sandcastle
because they are better than the ******* castle he made
Like that that uncool dumb teen who scatters the board game
because he's now seen that he is losing and cannot win at all
like those ugly pimpled friends who would play gooseberry
and cock-blockers because they can't get nice dates of their own
like that bitter mad one who will spill ink over your white top
or new Trainers because he or she has old and ***** ones
They are all from the world of the sicko psychos and damaged
talent-less mean, envious, sad pathetic people going nowhere
If I can't make it, why should others do and be winners
They all graduate to the divisive politics of the ****** losers
Power is stopping progress and advancement because they are down
Power is bringing achievers and enterprise down they can's gain
Power is sabotaging all that is good because they are bad in all
Measly fetid minds they plot and conspire in gangrenous network
dolts, scums, unwashed losers and rejects of society, bottom feeders
Come join the Party, our specialty is chaos and disruption of winners
The pathetic jokes of the white West, losers in their own backyards
picks on an African who came from disadvantages to better them
better educated, more intelligent, cool and stylish in every way
pack full of potential, going places they can never go or reach
Our sick, mean spirited under-achievers, expert losers and scums
crawled on the war-path, riddled with envy, sick with jealousy
ruin his progress, oppose and disrupt a black man who doubles
efforts to achieve, what if losers try is given to them on a plate
What here is done for the greater good, what here is honorable
celebrated victories for psychos, racist underachievers I think not
peoples power? more sick, tormented, jealous n envious chicanery
anarchy jealousy, anarchy shame, anarchy racists, anarchy liars
One Single Black achiever demonstrates the inherent strength
and grace of our all our Ancestors against sick, persistent white oppression. That's the story here.
If its a fair war, why hide and go underground, why fight *****
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
I’m everything and nothing
For where do I belong
Everywhere and nowhere
Life feels like death
To me, and it seems
Death feels like life
If only I could disappear
Gone from this earth
And slowly reappear, in hopes of a rebirth
To free myself from this pain
In a world of no disdain
With pleasure and infinite gain
This fickle life of endless monotony
I yearn to be free from;
To be in a world of transient diversity.
This skin that I love and hate,
In its real and abstract fate
Was once brown, now black to date.
It seems the winners are losing
In a backwards upside down world
Where the losers are winning.
If I could turn back the hands of time,
I’d go back to the year zeros
In hopes of a restart and some new heroes.
To take everything from the every ones;
Some Robin Hood type ****
And give something to the no ones.
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 5:03 PM UTC
I have work to do
have work to do
work to do
to do it well I must concentrate my thoughts upon this task in hand
and
I have work to do
to do it is a chore
a bore but beggars are not choosers
just losers
but
I have work to do
to do work at all at any time
is fine for me
on being homeless I could see
the workings of the work
priority
a majority of folk I know
don't go to work
go to work
to work is but another reason to go on
and go on I will
until the work is done
and my Sun sets overhead
and I am dead sure that
it will.
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 4:14 AM UTC
Just a crack in the brick wall
A red rubber ball
The last time you can't remember
When you stood tall
The monotonous hologram
The seaside hotdog stand
The regrets piled higher
than any mountain can
Four stringed guitar
Home in an abandoned car
Courage in a bottle
Wishing still on the first star
Still he caresses the neck
Presses down the frets
Sings three octave blues
On life's reef of wrecks
He's free lost in the chords
The music opens doors
The pathway is as bleak as sin
While inside he reaches for more
He goes off to sleep
He has his dreams deep
About a paradise for losers
And a five string guitar
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 10:12 PM UTC
Champions don't always win
losers don't always lose
but Hero is Hero
a champion at heart...
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
I have been treated like a game and people ask me why.
I just want to sit on the sidelines.
Do you know what it’s like to be looked at as a number,
As flesh, as something that can fulfill someone’s temporary
Needs when all you want is so to be wanted as a person?
You start to believe it. You start to believe you can only
Be beautiful in the context of one night, one picture.
You start to believe you are as shallow as the compliments
That are copied to you and several other people.
You start to believe you have to fight for someone’s
Attention when you should never have to do that.
You start to believe that only certain clothes
make you attractive because when you’re wearing them, they notice you.
You start to believe your opinions don’t matter because
they don’t want to hear them.
You start to believe you will have to settle for an empty
day or week of flirting just so you can feel something.
You start to believe that there isn’t such a thing as love
because no one seems to be looking for it.
At least that’s what I started to believe.
I have lost sleep over people who didn’t even
consider me a loss. I have waited for texts and
phone calls that were never coming.
I have romanticized words and gestures that
were far from romantic.
I have fallen for people only to realize it was
because they pushed me. I have broken my own
heart on the behalf of other people.
I have laid right next to people who might as well
have been 100 miles away.
I have believed words that were empty.
I have let all of this happen in an attempt to find love,
and I have found the opposite.
Maybe there are people who don’t need or want something
that lasts, something that’s real, something that you want to
share in the morning light and not hide in the night.
Maybe there are people who don’t realize the games they
play have losers. Maybe there are people need nothing
more than a night or a weekend or repeated words.
And I guess all of that is okay. But I am not like that,
and that’s okay.
I want someone that I can fall asleep next to with
a smile on my face. I want someone who doesn’t make
me wait and wonder. I want words that are spoken
just for me. I want to fall for someone with the promise
that they will catch me. I want someone who tries not to
hurt me and cares if they do. I want someone who feels like
they’re right next to me even when they are 100 miles away.
I want to feel something that even scratches
the surface of what love is.
No matter where I go or what I do, you'll always be the one person I hope I can one day come home to.
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
Asleep alone
I got the light scare
Of a nightmare
With my plight there
Which wouldn't fight fair
Awake awaits
Chirping is all I hear
Dragging life into focus
Getting the lens clear
To see things are hopeless
My aches and pains
Are my body's refrain
To remind me of existence
Despite my mental resistance
I am lucid
I take my shoelace
And loop it
To run a new race
Timidly trembling
The violence in my dreams
Matches the silence and screams
That defile us and our team
Making the nightmares real
And the pain I can feel
So it's love I steal
A devil's deal
Hell unsealed
I can hear the vultures chirping
Or maybe they're just burping
Out the demons I ignored
My forgiveness they implored
To meet a silent scorn
Like a muted tribal horn
Banishing them to another realm
With my ostracism at the helm
Until the lonely are overwhelmed
And I see the error of my ways
Once I'm part of this chaotic haze
Practically paralyzed
I am lost
In this game
I've met the boss
He and I the same
He is a voice
Chirping in my ear
Saying I have no choice
I should give in to fear
And just drink beer
Until the end is here
Carelessly comatose
The birds that once sang beautifully
Now retreat dutifully
When they see my thoughtless anger
Turn me into a ruthless stranger
Creating danger
For those living righteously
They start fighting me
Trying to enlighten me
Which is only exciting me
Because I lack the sight to see
What the world could be
If we could harmonize
Like the birds
Not using argent lies
But soothing words
Yet there is no tax exemption
For my reluctant redemption
So my mind invented
No incentive
Soul slaughtered
The tear jerking
Birds chirping
Constantly remind me
Inside my sleep they find me
Thrusting me into a life unwinding
Through my window the sun is blinding
When I start to fear my brother
After seeing mirrors in others
Reflecting my attitude
Of ingratitude
I had a nasty nightmare
Of Camp Crystal Lake
Filled with misfit flakes
Paying for their mistakes
With pain and suffering
As deep as a submarine
Being torn apart
For every decision
Hiding their heart
To avoid incisions
And once all these losers are slain
The birds chirping start a new day
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 4:14 AM UTC
After a hard days fight,
we were taken prisoner
by the grays.
It was way out in the hinterlands,
on the edge of tomorrow,
in the Battle of Sorrows
when they took us in.
Light was failing,
it was nearing night
when they brought us
in for interrogation.
Of course,
despite their methods,
we told them nothing,
nothing that would reveal anything
about the secret weapon,
the star-killer machine
that would be
the end of life
as we know it.
Besides, it's silly
to give the enemy
such valuable information,
information like that could turn the tide,
could destroy the whole universe,
make losers out of all of us.
I hope our side keeps it hidden.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
We use video games
To make video gains
Until the screen goes black
And reality attacks
We lose all our progress
In the deletion process
As we level up we devolve
Around the TV we revolve
The more experience we gain
The more moments we lose
Our memories forever stained
When this is what we choose
Our life inside a hard drive
Our life becomes a hard lie
We revel in being unwise
Rage quitting life
We enjoy strife
And avoid pesky light
When we live in the dark
With consumerist plights
We are all marks
Video games balance in a zone
Between game and art
The frustration starts
When art is confused for games
And games mistook for art
People take things to heart
And spitefully spew viper venom
If this is where games send them
Then why do we play?
We have no other way
To feel accomplishment
In a society that worships competition
Video games become the second edition
Of a life filled with loss
On our pixelated cross
We are murdered millions of times
Reminiscent of the millions of lies
That make us losers in the real world
Video games become our shiny pearl
The computer displays defeat
When our lives aren't complete
Because we need someone to beat
Not realizing our lives are conquered
By frivolous topics we've pondered
Our meaningless life squandered
And hope comes in the form of new releases
While inside our faulty headset is in pieces
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 3:13 AM UTC