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"misshape" poems
A creature not of here or there With parts that do not fit Neither fish nor fowl, horse or bear A bashed together kit Too many heads, some with horns Body furred and scaled Eagles wings and spines like thorns And as a peacock tailed Some aspects might bring a smile While others will repel One small detail may beguile Yet another breaks the spell Each pack or flock it tries to join Though they seemed akin And in some facet quite adroit Another portion can’t fit in Every time it tries as best it may To hide an offending section Knowing that if seen in light of day The result will be rejection So the beast remains an alien Cloaks what's best concealed Strives to imitate the chameleon That no misshape be revealed All creatures hunger for a home Chimera hungers too But it wanders doomed to roam A haven to pursue
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Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 10:12 PM UTC
Chimera
Running and Running with heavy heart, I loathe you. I am allergic to your presence But still I’m hooked on the inspiration of your never ceasing spiral. Do not dare to misshape me you faceless beast, for I am known! Uncontrollable reality I forbid you. For you are a bloodcurdling nightmare, which only seems to be misshapen, and broken. Hurt and lost in your exhausted flaws, You realize in the end, that the beast is you, faceless. And truly unknown.
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May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
Faceless
Burn me with your cold star Singe my wings if you would keep me from your lonesome turn me away and i'll forgive you every-time i return to claim you for mine and lovingly watch you burn in Hell just like you want me too i'll see through you and say those things that twist you hateful, and misshape the way you live... for nothing but think it would **** you to need someone and then you'll get what you really want when you let me ravage you deeply with your devils taking photographs of perfect love you wont be happy until your utter abandon finds Hope i'll never tell you how to think of your self as worthless and i won't let you lie saving you all that time to spend in truth more alive with a fire fed by the Truth till if rages scorching the stupid worlds you believed in before me before i listened to your sins i passed you a note in class and the teacher caught me and had me mad to stand ahead of the class and read aloud the note and i did so with my demons taking photographs of one happy boy, happy to meet you projecting to the back of the room and out of blue start to sing !
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 8:26 PM UTC
WINTERING IN THE TROPIC Of YOUR CANCER
In such need of a distraction To save me from this attraction Alter me, misshape me, reintegrate me Reform or deform me Any form of chemical reaction Contraction, extraction or detraction To allow me escape this endless inaction And there goes rhymin' simon From 1973 and before i was born Somewhere after the crown of thorns But again before the golden age of **** So accuse me again that i would overthink Easy to say, when you've never read Batfink Now there's a guy too ****** up to live So much so, left the scene to resurrect as fixative **** him, let him tell his story and i'll tell mine And most of time i do that pretty fine But this ain't poetry just a personal diatribe My own little sick bucket, a self centered whine For the purists this rhyming is surely a crime But hey look at the title, see i'm just killing time Anything to stop this endless push and pull The gnawing of the brain, the heart shaped lull There's nothing so intense as purest attraction Yet in your absence i flounder to each & every Distraction
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Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 12:34 PM UTC
Distraction
Your eyes filled with fire Your hands a murderous weapon Yet your heart isn't filled with hate You misshape our thoughts Convincing our hearts of purity We give into you And you destroy our aspirations But we retain hope Continuing to look for our sane minds
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Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 12:31 AM UTC
Dear War,
My mistake. Forget the signs of vulnerability, My tender soul And all the errors That slipped from my lips. I wouldn't fit in your world. The beast within Would tear hot throats Beneath the silver moon. I cannot play nice Or fit in. Jealousy, rage — Impropriety Betray this honest man.
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Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 8:02 PM UTC
misshape