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"misguiding" poems
I'm a realist, mildly an idealist. My ideas create a mindset that allows me to express feelings But I built up a wall, high as a skyscraper..I stand, as a realist I know if I jump, I'm bound to meet my maker. I don't think idealist are weak. I just think they escape the honesty they seek. You don't walk a straight line in order for you to finally reach your peak. Obstacles come and go, water is a need if you want to grow, you can't have a lightbulb without an idea and expect it to magically glow. I know every action I do and especially when I am wrong but, I just won't rewrite all my wrongs, they inspire all of my greatest songs. Optimistic that I'll make it, I just need more effort than 50 percent because you get what you put in, as a realist I know if you put in half, half back is all you will ever get. People remember your mistakes, the heroics they just simply forget. I can't stand when people think it's okay to live a life without any regrets. *Sure things happen for a reason and karma "may" have your enemies morally bleeding, but your ideology sounds misguiding and thought process misleading. Karma is an excuse to allow a higher calling contribute to your spiteful abuse, you don't want the crime on your soul so you allow the angels to fatally shoot. It's fine, before we die, we all commit a crime. Women **** men steal, just being in love should require you to do time.* Born a realist sinner...far from an idealist winner Success doesn't come over night The sweet life doesn't come until after you've made your dinner..and cleaned the plate, but we're never satisfied...nah, we going to probably eat again late. Work hard for the dream, don't just rely on faith. A realist knows she may not show up, even when you scheduled a date. It's all love to the victims, stuck in a fiction. If you hate this piece...your ignorance got you unable to listen. Not my problem though. I'm speaking without any permission! I like that idea...oh **** wait...I think I just become my own contradiction? ...forget it, I'm healing, my words and unpredictable wisdom, I am still dealing. Insanity is a fear that is expressed towards you when others have confusion A realist, an idealist..no one is right...our concepts to each other seem all an illusion. -Dougie simps
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Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 11:13 AM UTC
"The "idea" of a realist"
I'm a realist, mildly an idealist. My ideas create a mindset that allows me to express feelings But I built up a wall, high as a skyscraper..I stand, as a realist I know if I jump, I'm bound to meet my maker. I don't think idealist are weak. I just think they escape the honesty they seek. You don't walk a straight line in order for you to finally reach your peak. Obstacles come and go, water is a need if you want to grow, you can't have a lightbulb without an idea and expect it to magically glow. I know every action I do and especially when I am wrong but, I just won't rewrite all my wrongs, they inspire all of my greatest songs. Optimistic that I'll make it, I just need more effort than 50 percent because you get what you put in, as a realist I know if you put in half, half back is all you will ever get. People remember your mistakes, the heroics they just simply forget. I can't stand when people think it's okay to live a life without any regrets. *Sure things happen for a reason and karma "may" have your enemies morally bleeding, but your ideology sounds misguiding and thought process misleading. Karma is an excuse to allow a higher calling contribute to your spiteful abuse, you don't want the crime on your soul so you allow the angels to fatally shoot. It's fine, before we die, we all commit a crime. Women **** men steal, just being in love should require you to do time.* Born a realist sinner...far from an idealist winner Success doesn't come over night The sweet life doesn't come until after you've made your dinner..and cleaned the plate, but we're never satisfied...nah, we going to probably eat again late. Work hard for the dream, don't just rely on faith. A realist knows she may not show up, even when you scheduled a date. It's all love to the victims, stuck in a fiction. If you hate this piece...your ignorance got you unable to listen. Not my problem though. I'm speaking without any permission! I like that idea...oh **** wait...I think I just become my own contradiction? ...forget it, I'm healing, my words and unpredictable wisdom, I am still dealing. Insanity is a fear that is expressed towards you when others have confusion A realist, an idealist..no one is right...our concepts to each other seem all an illusion. -Dougie simps
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24
You tried misguiding me, With your various distractions, You had alcohol - offered *** to me, But I'm me - And I'm a soldier of morals, I'll practice Brahmcharya till I'm 25 - sorry, You tried seducing me to your bedroom, With your laces' & thongs' actions, You made me look at yours, But guiltless - I remained.
0
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
Guiltless - I Remained
***** the wil-'o-the-wisp sadly sat at home for he was young and much too small to roam the swamp alone He wanted to be an elusive light mysterious, misguiding and haunting the night. „Oh swamp“ he whined „it all goes so slow I don't want to stay home – please help me to grow!“ „Shut up, little ones, enough of that weeping“ bubbled the swamp and then started sleeping „Oh not again“ the old tree moaned  as ***** burst out in tears and raised his branches left and right to cover up his ears. Meanwhile a burglar with Police had a battle with a big bag of loot he had to skedaddle into the swamp  and lost the way. He watched out for a guiding light but all he found was crying ***** (wil-o'-the whisping really not bright) „What's that?“ the burglar snidely asked „a lousy glooming firefly? can't even light my cigarette get out of my way  little bug“ and  proceeded to pass by. This now was too much for Willy's pride (teenagers often  freak out) He drew himself to his fullest height and he shouted loud: „listen you mean and human thing – I am no dim-lit light! Beware of the rage of an wil-o'-the wisp!“ and then he run completely wild „Hear what I will bring to you first death then pain and sorrow I'll **** you first then chase you down for you there's no more tomorrow I'll lead you into deepest swamp to a puddle of mud and when you start to drown in it – I'll watch you in cold blood“ (if we were picky in logic and order we surely now have to complain but let's close an eye for he is still very young – back to the story again) Inspite all efforts and Willy's threats the burglar did not catch a word (wil-o'-the-wisping as language is not very common and therefore not often heard) Let's say (to help our ***** a bit) the burglar was slightly confused so nothing much happend until the swamp woke up and swamp was not amused „Who dared to disturbe my holy sleep?“ he blubbered with utmost grim Willy's finger pointed out to the burglar then and he sheepishly squeaked „that was him!“ Swamp did not hesitate too long burglar sank into swamp to a place deep and stealthy (for medical reasons we have to admit   this can't be considered as healthy) In the next days ***** did not no more complain to spend some more time at home as he learned one thing this very day: there are many ways that lead to Rome. (©Heike Borgard 2014)
0
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
***** the Wil-o'-the-Wisp
***** the wil-'o-the-wisp sadly sat at home for he was young and much too small to roam the swamp alone He wanted to be an elusive light mysterious, misguiding and haunting the night. „Oh swamp“ he whined „it all goes so slow I don't want to stay home – please help me to grow!“ „Shut up, little ones, enough of that weeping“ bubbled the swamp and then started sleeping „Oh not again“ the old tree moaned  as ***** burst out in tears and raised his branches left and right to cover up his ears. Meanwhile a burglar with Police had a battle with a big bag of loot he had to skedaddle into the swamp  and lost the way. He watched out for a guiding light but all he found was crying ***** (wil-o'-the whisping really not bright) „What's that?“ the burglar snidely asked „a lousy glooming firefly? can't even light my cigarette get out of my way  little bug“ and  proceeded to pass by. This now was too much for Willy's pride (teenagers often  freak out) He drew himself to his fullest height and he shouted loud: „listen you mean and human thing – I am no dim-lit light! Beware of the rage of an wil-o'-the wisp!“ and then he run completely wild „Hear what I will bring to you first death then pain and sorrow I'll **** you first then chase you down for you there's no more tomorrow I'll lead you into deepest swamp to a puddle of mud and when you start to drown in it – I'll watch you in cold blood“ (if we were picky in logic and order we surely now have to complain but let's close an eye for he is still very young – back to the story again) Inspite all efforts and Willy's threats the burglar did not catch a word (wil-o'-the-wisping as language is not very common and therefore not often heard) Let's say (to help our ***** a bit) the burglar was slightly confused so nothing much happend until the swamp woke up and swamp was not amused „Who dared to disturbe my holy sleep?“ he blubbered with utmost grim Willy's finger pointed out to the burglar then and he sheepishly squeaked „that was him!“ Swamp did not hesitate too long burglar sank into swamp to a place deep and stealthy (for medical reasons we have to admit   this can't be considered as healthy) In the next days ***** did not no more complain to spend some more time at home as he learned one thing this very day: there are many ways that lead to Rome. (©Heike Borgard 2014)
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60
Not for years has it been clear My mind of thoughts of meres and nears Misses and mistakes, my mind was raked looking for answers of how to make sense of the fails, reasons for doubts i'll give you all my many to pout Mistrust and misguiding seems the key For the reason my mind has never been free They've taken my longing for ones they shouldn't If asked to repeat, i swear i wouldn't.
0
Nov 13, 2011
Nov 13, 2011 at 6:12 PM UTC
Clear Mind
the city's moon                                                    fixated in its peoples tics and behaviour                     crass and mentally fractured traction acts the loony satellite makes sway for rude construction                                                             padding our ego psychology nothing    simple    allowed we are all a manic reference of each other the city weather is steered                                      by currents of gossip withhold your info                culture clutches misguiding alliances     treasure your details                                                                     it is your only insurance this city                                             it's a view to thrill                                                            but it odors me til ill ****** privacy and get undressed too much time here   harbouring thirst       quibbling hurt feelings                                    signals ;  Life Emitting Distress so                                                     lock up the night city stars                                                   mar-glaring bulbs of pity-me                           staring about for vagrancy i flip up my hood              lucent pandery eyes span the communal routes    search us out       merchandise and mood i turn down an alleyway and am confronted                                           a vain and voyeuristic fan tail varieties cocktail of sales and entertainment ad lights send out sonar 'pings' wing-ed ; fencing judgement i wear pricy contacts to veil my retinas and my hood is lined with aluminium      i cough and concentrate on breath commemorate each step undertaken weaponize my walk eyes low my being is voided into guise heading further from the city centre i can straighten from my defensive pose in amongst the dwellings                            the urban effect dwindles kindled   instead   by the dosey soup wash of streetlights delights;   the holy crop of them webbing outward    retching past our boundaries                         shored back upon natures breath                       (so i imagine)
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Nov 8, 2022
Nov 8, 2022 at 9:03 PM UTC
c i t y L.E.D.s
the city's moon                                                    fixated in its peoples tics and behaviour                     crass and mentally fractured traction acts the loony satellite makes sway for rude construction                                                             padding our ego psychology nothing    simple    allowed we are all a manic reference of each other the city weather is steered                                      by currents of gossip withhold your info                culture clutches misguiding alliances     treasure your details                                                                     it is your only insurance this city                                             it's a view to thrill                                                            but it odors me til ill ****** privacy and get undressed too much time here   harbouring thirst       quibbling hurt feelings                                    signals ;  Life Emitting Distress so                                                     lock up the night city stars                                                   mar-glaring bulbs of pity-me                           staring about for vagrancy i flip up my hood              lucent pandery eyes span the communal routes    search us out       merchandise and mood i turn down an alleyway and am confronted                                           a vain and voyeuristic fan tail varieties cocktail of sales and entertainment ad lights send out sonar 'pings' wing-ed ; fencing judgement i wear pricy contacts to veil my retinas and my hood is lined with aluminium      i cough and concentrate on breath commemorate each step undertaken weaponize my walk eyes low my being is voided into guise heading further from the city centre i can straighten from my defensive pose in amongst the dwellings                            the urban effect dwindles kindled   instead   by the dosey soup wash of streetlights delights;   the holy crop of them webbing outward    retching past our boundaries                         shored back upon natures breath                       (so i imagine)
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51
"Forgive me, Father…for I have sinned" This is how all my thoughts begin Their ritual of villain regrets and sorrows. They come, they lie, they spin… Misguiding words and blinding the hallows, While tears pray for the everyday forgiveness, The tyrants chain my finned tomorrows Forever consumed in acid of my illness. Forgive me, Father… For I have baptized my thoughts in holy water. Their slushy sins dived into a cruel slaughter, Leaving me senseless…hopeless… My tongue have lost its ability To cut the truth from raw evilness. In this shell of madness there's no tranquility In vengeance, burning wounds don't find stability, In anger, blurry paths lie in selfishness And so I lie there senseless. The way back home Can't be guided by crippled lights, Redemption has got me in too many fights Between me and my reflection, I breathe and I bleed with no defection While violins cry over my lost pure smiles, Their grave shrouded me into a foolish disguise. My lungs shout for Jordan River. 'Cause I can't go on like this… Lies, mistakes then hinder Every time dreams are never what is real. Hear me, Father… Here I stand in this place my tears used to gather. Give me a rain drop so my eyes can heal, Give me myself again so my skin can feel - My thoughts are unsafe and they will **** My insides as a sacrifice meal -   I can hear their evil whispers, late at night… Don't leave me drowned into this tight well, Where my pillow is creasing words of farewell. Thoughts sing lullabies in a shallow swing Words like "Forgive me, Father…For I have sinned."
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Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 1:37 PM UTC
Late night pray
"Forgive me, Father…for I have sinned" This is how all my thoughts begin Their ritual of villain regrets and sorrows. They come, they lie, they spin… Misguiding words and blinding the hallows, While tears pray for the everyday forgiveness, The tyrants chain my finned tomorrows Forever consumed in acid of my illness. Forgive me, Father… For I have baptized my thoughts in holy water. Their slushy sins dived into a cruel slaughter, Leaving me senseless…hopeless… My tongue have lost its ability To cut the truth from raw evilness. In this shell of madness there's no tranquility In vengeance, burning wounds don't find stability, In anger, blurry paths lie in selfishness And so I lie there senseless. The way back home Can't be guided by crippled lights, Redemption has got me in too many fights Between me and my reflection, I breathe and I bleed with no defection While violins cry over my lost pure smiles, Their grave shrouded me into a foolish disguise. My lungs shout for Jordan River. 'Cause I can't go on like this… Lies, mistakes then hinder Every time dreams are never what is real. Hear me, Father… Here I stand in this place my tears used to gather. Give me a rain drop so my eyes can heal, Give me myself again so my skin can feel - My thoughts are unsafe and they will **** My insides as a sacrifice meal -   I can hear their evil whispers, late at night… Don't leave me drowned into this tight well, Where my pillow is creasing words of farewell. Thoughts sing lullabies in a shallow swing Words like "Forgive me, Father…For I have sinned."
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40
Now let me tell you what happened next, The bold the feeble, Went with the dead, Down went the rich, The poor and The worthless, The useless and The innocent, I was doing it, No it can't be me, I took lives, With tears of glee, Happiness is what filled my face, My mouth kept moving, And my mind insensate, Insensible acts, Proved my desires, Divine were those and those didn't tire, shattered blessings, Built up curses, Collected bad dreams, With songs and verses, They wrote my stories, Earned the fame, Forget themselves Became my tamed, With fiery eyes Heart of a master, I stabbed her hard With a daring laughter, smirks and anger My guiding angels, my misguiding devils, Made it stranger, Misjudging me, is your mistake, Cause I was awake On my bed, When you were in your dreams, Far away, I was the bad man You met in your way, your dreams feed me, Your smile kills, But what suits you best Are the smoking chills, Give me life Rather death, I am,I was A living hell, I will take you to my nest, Let's just say, Yesterday, I was possesed..
0
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
Unknown(part-II)
They say to stop being a victim and to be a survivor But then they add fuel the fire They say life is to short so live it while you can How is that possible when we're dictated by man And I hate to be the 'party pooper' as they say But they're a tad bit misguiding I mean who follows these everyday They are fun to look at and inspiring to read But its time to start living them Are you gonna lead?
0
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
hypocritical
I jump from this crowd Slipping through the guards Snatching your precious crown The jewels to which they bowed But you're no king Not the kind that's revered Your crown was built from spite For those you kept on a string I am no better than you Stealing hearts to break A fool filled with self-pity Always doubting what to do I don't steal what's not mine Merely claim my title-to-be The king of misguiding & self-loss Just waiting for the end of the line
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Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 8:53 PM UTC
I Steal My Fate
To love my divine Lord with mind heart and soul Worth more than silver & gold some do as they're told Sold their soul as I smoke a bowl lost paid the cost to a evil boss what a loss it's not okay astrayed away confused everyday hoping one day you find your way Pray for a better day & speak wise words of healing, don't place heavy burdens on people's shoulders killing hearts slowly die colder, clean your inside so that the outside can be clean not just a cover up, your servant should be among the greatest treated with the same kindness polite courtesy respect and most love give good fruit my enemies will be placed under my foot as I stand to his right, ready for when evil fights just a reminder my God is a God of love, harmony. order, beauty, natural elegance not of corruption destruction chaos Deceit defeat retreat or any least a ******* beast enraged in a cage misguiding lying deceiving inflicting never leaving start believing not by what your seein...
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Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC
The Great Commandment
At times, the dark comes quicker As if my mind gone weaker As if my soul was split into two me Similar to the ying and the yang The Me and the Mean The bright side and the dark side I feel an intruder piercing my soul in the inside I feel this part growing , getting stronger everyday Spreading negative wave The Me symbolize my reason of living The dreams that I am after The desire of beeing a father The Mean on the other hand is like that creature surrounded by that antihalo feeling Giving power to my fears , my hate Eating all I have of hope, misguiding my fate The Me became the prey , leaving The Mean the place of deadly predator It's like picturing the beauty of spring gobbled up by the sadness of winter But The Me isn't giving up I'm not giving up in the search of my true identity The Murderess war of the two Me The winner will decide where lies my destiny.
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Dec 15, 2009
Dec 15, 2009 at 11:45 PM UTC
The Me and The Mean
I want to hold the moon, in the stillness. As a newly healed being, forgetting his illness. With transcendent secrets, long lost, and unheard. Converge with the earth, my body returned. It's not just the glow that my soul truly seeks- But the calling of a gnosis, at its brilliant peak. The kind that would nurture without word or touch. With pulses divine, surging through me in flux. I want to push oceans, form the tides Mighty sway. As nova's light the way, even brighter than the day. Not where I am dying, but drifting sublime. Through a cosmic stimulation of emotions and mind. To hold the moon is to be as the dark, The Infinite void with no ending or start. To weave through galaxies in quantum ascent. To be untethered, unmeasured, and unbent. For there's a place where echoes of gnosis still call. Where darkness is divine, as it stands without fall. For when all existence comes to end, as we know it. Darkness not only lives but will thrive by the moment. The stars told a secret, the divine know our depths. Our intentions are gold. We're not at fault for our steps. I want to walk where quantum waves ebb and flow, And merge with the calm, only the moon has ever shown. To hold the moon is to live as the night. No longer chasing myths of a misguiding light. To rest with the shadows, unobserved in their allure. My failing charred heart, reborn by the nights cure. ♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
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Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 3:52 AM UTC
I Want to Hold The Moon
Me and the ocean, our blending emotion I want to be brave, just like the waves Me and my soul we both unite Like the ocean and sky at the end of my sight I open my eyes to feel the light Clear my heart from earthly delight All that shines makes me blind Truth is what I strive to find Castles and crowns are a misguiding illusion Clouding my sight, distorting my vision Deep in me I find the the real greed Peace of mind for everyone is what I need The ocean waves follow each other Not once wave races the other Why in everything do we have to compete? Instead of destroying make each other complete When I look at the ocean ,I know my eyes open It is so calm yet brave, to nature it has made its devotion
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Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 3:14 AM UTC
The Brave Ocean
I was rather naive when I first understood pain. It was never about crying for accidental scars, Nor wishes that ended up all in vain. Instead, it was all about our hearts going places in sparse. He was a cloud nothing more nothing less. Appearing to have a mysterious guise, Yet all was a facade hiding sheets of misguiding finesse. Nothing but a deceitful layer of lies. We were both strangers meeting in a virtual world, Where everything bears a different truth and lie. Sharing memories no one could ever unfold, And knowing that all we could do is laugh and sigh. I told myself a million times to never fall for him But after several conversations after midnight, All I could do is be happy and smile lovingly at the moonlight's dim. By that, I knew I was ******* and there's a heart I have to fight. I've tried so hard but I always end up in defeat. I did the worst thing imaginable which is to confess. And indeed it was the worst for everything turned into ******** Our conversations ended, and I was very much in deep madness. Several years have gone past, Yet I still can't forget completely. That our story which was definitely meant to last Went wrong and now gone into oblivion, silently. I don't really blame the cloud, For it was my fault to fall and enjoy its company. It was great to know it finally but not too proud, Since the pain it caused me is far too imaginable and less lovely. My heart was torn into pieces I wouldn't ever think of, But I learned several lessons that gave me more wisdom. We need not to cry over pain for our tears are diamonds and better off - Very precious that no one deserves to shed in our physical kingdom.
0
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 1:50 AM UTC
A Story Gone Wrong
I was rather naive when I first understood pain. It was never about crying for accidental scars, Nor wishes that ended up all in vain. Instead, it was all about our hearts going places in sparse. He was a cloud nothing more nothing less. Appearing to have a mysterious guise, Yet all was a facade hiding sheets of misguiding finesse. Nothing but a deceitful layer of lies. We were both strangers meeting in a virtual world, Where everything bears a different truth and lie. Sharing memories no one could ever unfold, And knowing that all we could do is laugh and sigh. I told myself a million times to never fall for him But after several conversations after midnight, All I could do is be happy and smile lovingly at the moonlight's dim. By that, I knew I was ******* and there's a heart I have to fight. I've tried so hard but I always end up in defeat. I did the worst thing imaginable which is to confess. And indeed it was the worst for everything turned into ******** Our conversations ended, and I was very much in deep madness. Several years have gone past, Yet I still can't forget completely. That our story which was definitely meant to last Went wrong and now gone into oblivion, silently. I don't really blame the cloud, For it was my fault to fall and enjoy its company. It was great to know it finally but not too proud, Since the pain it caused me is far too imaginable and less lovely. My heart was torn into pieces I wouldn't ever think of, But I learned several lessons that gave me more wisdom. We need not to cry over pain for our tears are diamonds and better off - Very precious that no one deserves to shed in our physical kingdom.
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32
conscience is manipulative.. obsessions often misguiding.... emotions pretentious... what remains in the end however... is the vacuum in your heart when the truth lest be told... facing fear, keeping it real, living not for the moment, but being true, in every action, straight from your heart, being what u are, what u believe, and what  u want to be... makes the world much more bearable....
0
Dec 2, 2010
Dec 2, 2010 at 12:39 AM UTC
lost........
Verse 1: Lost in this cerebral jungle Stalked by shadows Facing reality is half the battle Paranoia and confusion What is real and what is an illusion? Resonant whispers misguiding my resolve There’s nothing that these pills won’t solve Chorus 1: Prescribe me tranquility Synthesized solutions Prescribe me bliss Nevermind the risks Alter consciousness for altar offerings Verse 2: Once the catatonic fog was lifted I saw your wings were broken Serpent’s tongues deceived me A shepherd’s crook for a crooked shepherd Masquerading demi-god’s You’re nothing but false prophets Chorus 2: Prescribe me chemical lobotomies Synthesized solutions Prescribe me verity Science without empathy
0
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 9:27 PM UTC
Placebo ℞
Nervous.... When I enter a room... Do I look okay? I fidget with my bracelets, making sure my battles are hidden... What will they think.... When they find out... I'm not okay... I'm a loose ***** A walking wreck... Held together by barb wire, the rough edges pierce my skin... Will you hear my pleas? Will anyone answer me? Or just pass by like a blurred figment of imagination? Believing the smile on my face, the joyful laugh I make, misguiding you? That I'm always this pleasant and easygoing? But I'm not, never was, but I'm trying to hide and show you all at once... Can you see me?
0
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 4:52 PM UTC
Nervous
They went against there word, misguiding me saying they'd stay, I called them in times of need, they were gone as quick as yesterday, They told me they were true, true friends never turn away, but they never questioned what I was going through, nor if I was doing okay, Regardless,I always spoke to them about my problems, hoping they help or feed me some advice, They always pretend to concern and listen, yet little did they care inside, They never asked about my goals where I was heading in my career, I was just there puppeteer, Im much better off without them here, They only talked to about about was partying, money for smokes, *** and beer, disillusioned to myself was I thinking for me that they'd be there, Today I sit here guilty to why i wasted by time with them, messing my life up more, when I was barely hanging off a stem, They were supposed to turn me into a better person, with these blessing came such curse, They had me thinking I was doing good, just to find myself doing much more worst, Today in solitary state I remain, in search of my true purpose, looking for those who sustain til end, not these "friends" who played me worthless.
0
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
Friends Pt.1 (Their vice) by Shahrukh Zamir
hypochondira and hyperactivity, misguiding nouns.                 *vinum bonum et suave, bonis binum, pravis prave, ave mundana laetitia!*           łyski - whiskey -   łysy... itching to slap a skinhead... so the question:   what are the ad hoc parameters of cogito ergo sum?            i so wish to be given an ad hoc clarity for certain maxims...    in most instances they're bibles, obscurity riddles them a hymnal status, and that said: holy.                 i wan't to be given the ad hoc instruction manual for certain    eurekas...                i'm told that the already stated prefigures subjectivity...             and that the subconscious isn't merely a bystanders' experience of puppetteering...    insinuation sphere...             just like i might add third party inquisitors demanding of me that: every dream has a hidden meaning behind it.        so many have died trying to create the uncoscious contraceptive... this mental *******   this exploitative subconscious insinuation puppet motivation...                   the subconscious only exists to create the other's drone capitalisation    of fragility... the synonym of the subconscious within groundwork of making choices, acknowledging ethic, is insinuation, spies and the alphabetical fixation on subversion, and all other subs- congregate.            and it really does sound like nonsense once the enemy's tongue is waggling...                       some even called it the omnivore safehaven...    when in fact so much was prioritised for dietary requirements...                                that became bouldered anorexic grey-areas;     synchronised skeleton army          tugging the chimeras of crimea, shortened to the word: Krym. knowing this tongue, i should be apt at       forging any and all ethnic linkage with it being expressed: i should be gagging for a forthnight spent in las vegas!                    but there's me, dreaming of a tartar steak.
0
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 2:11 PM UTC
Krym
hypochondira and hyperactivity, misguiding nouns.                 *vinum bonum et suave, bonis binum, pravis prave, ave mundana laetitia!*           łyski - whiskey -   łysy... itching to slap a skinhead... so the question:   what are the ad hoc parameters of cogito ergo sum?            i so wish to be given an ad hoc clarity for certain maxims...    in most instances they're bibles, obscurity riddles them a hymnal status, and that said: holy.                 i wan't to be given the ad hoc instruction manual for certain    eurekas...                i'm told that the already stated prefigures subjectivity...             and that the subconscious isn't merely a bystanders' experience of puppetteering...    insinuation sphere...             just like i might add third party inquisitors demanding of me that: every dream has a hidden meaning behind it.        so many have died trying to create the uncoscious contraceptive... this mental *******   this exploitative subconscious insinuation puppet motivation...                   the subconscious only exists to create the other's drone capitalisation    of fragility... the synonym of the subconscious within groundwork of making choices, acknowledging ethic, is insinuation, spies and the alphabetical fixation on subversion, and all other subs- congregate.            and it really does sound like nonsense once the enemy's tongue is waggling...                       some even called it the omnivore safehaven...    when in fact so much was prioritised for dietary requirements...                                that became bouldered anorexic grey-areas;     synchronised skeleton army          tugging the chimeras of crimea, shortened to the word: Krym. knowing this tongue, i should be apt at       forging any and all ethnic linkage with it being expressed: i should be gagging for a forthnight spent in las vegas!                    but there's me, dreaming of a tartar steak.
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Another time, a different face, And a mind full of memories time can’t erase. You’d think by now I would have learned, When playing with fire you always get burned. I’ve been here before; I’ve played this part, And it’s left me with nothing but broken bits of my heart. It’s not your fault; I’ve my own thoughts in my head, I tried to find love but found shame instead. And now it’s a struggle to get out of his hold, While the truth I've denied slowly starts to unfold. My hopes were too high, my expectations too low, What your intentions were is something I’ll never know. I knew he’d never love me, and the same goes for you, But being naïve made me think it was true. So the next time I’m looking into lying eyes, I’ll let myself wander back into time. I’ll remember the lesson you’ve both taught me here, That falling in love is something to fear, Trusting hands are misguiding and angels can lie, And remember to never look into their eyes, For they **** you in and won’t spit you out, Until you’re beaten and bruised and are crying for help. Even then it’s impossible to truly be free, Because forever they’ll live in your memories
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Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 5:53 PM UTC
Untitled
The mirror, consistent bystander, a defiled savior that returns An arid eyeful of the misery masquerading in skin The promises, unturned in the ragged nails Of hands amongst the worn blades, desiccated with blood. Night prefaced by sleep endeavors to hold a zephyr to never wake Keeping a window parsed with misguiding lexis when solitary Escapism writes itself on panes in palls of a routed exhale The walls, sordidly stained with parody of preaching truths Openhanded to the sheer erosion of missing self-misuse And as the dawn reveals the path out redemption's door The fetter of morning's mourning reminds its prisoner of its tethered grip. © 2013
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
Another Asylum
All sweet deceits and false impressions of the devil Misguiding the innocent laid content behind the falling wall enticed by the glamour of the sinking ship profaning the throne of the divine servant Compelled to go and spell the gospel of the Messiah sacrificing eternity for fleeting moments of the witty absurdity Fame, future usury and power all shall fade and disappear and all those who devoted themselves and chose to lean against the falling wall shall fall along Indeed Those who exalted themselves will be humbled and those who humbled themselves will be exalted
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Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
Leaning against the falling wall
Drips of tranquility covers even the slittiest form of imperfection And though our hearts may be restless we seem to push on Through every blade that's been pierced to sever our well being. Tempting us to use our spirit of love persuading and misguiding us saying that love is just a feeeling. But what is love? how can it be described? And can we interpret our definition if everyone is hurting? Is what we've been taught just a way to keep us on a level to not think for ourselves? Or are we just too afraid to let go of a worldly demise so unforgiving that it will cause us to be ****** from everything and everyone. Too much is being swallowed in a burning atmosphere we take shots to fill in the pain but feelings are still there . No matter where you might hide you can't escape from being doomed from the destruction history has caused and may it will be repeated. From earth to stars space to beyond we have questions to be asked and many run Due to the majority of how much darkness has overwhelmed the light of the sun.
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Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
Questionable Reasons