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"mistreated" poems
Kashmir Delirium Oh People Of Earth! Thankful are we, For each act of benevolence shown to us. Your gilded sweet words describing, The beauty of Kasmir, land and people. Mention in books and talks of it's riches, Naming it the Sweet Paradise Of Earth. The Lord has been bountiful to Kashmir, Treasure of resources in every sphere. To elevate each aspect, our wish for life, As every acre of this land is worth millions. Full of treasures and recreational value, Forestry with grandeur and silvery rivers. The outside world's view is so limited, Simple folks living in the lap of rich bounty. Mentioned in world forums and organizations, But what of the goal of giving us freedom? What has The UN established in our name? To measure the pain and anguish we bear, At the hands, of our supposed benefactors. The saviours who has us fractured. But in reality they train their enforcers, In the art of creating oceans of tears. The red blood now hidden in camouflage, The spent shells now gathered and hidden. The leaders we are told to elect in electoral shams, Run publicity kiosks and swell friend lists. Joint conferences to address personal interests Dialogues that never address the root issues. Just the formalities and no sympathy, For the ones burnt in cruel sadistic reprisals. The hypocrisy continues deliriously unabated, More augmentation of the security forces. For a first hand view of deep hypocrisy, Walk this land, you know as beautiful. Religious leaders will teach you political artistry, Sermons full of ambiguity and guile. Waywardness and narrow mindedness on display, Political apologists give great lessons. Religion and religious ethnicity are tools, That keep minds and bodies in total check. Gamesmanship by leaders is the rule of thumb, As promises are forgotten once office is obtained. When writing of this succulent beautiful land, Write of the air, pregnant with sadistic practices. This land is being stripped of worldly treasures, And the greatest treasure is mistreated daily. The best of nation is the inhabitants, Ignored are the real gems of this beautiful paradise.
0
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 6:44 AM UTC
Kashmir Delirium
Kashmir Delirium Oh People Of Earth! Thankful are we, For each act of benevolence shown to us. Your gilded sweet words describing, The beauty of Kasmir, land and people. Mention in books and talks of it's riches, Naming it the Sweet Paradise Of Earth. The Lord has been bountiful to Kashmir, Treasure of resources in every sphere. To elevate each aspect, our wish for life, As every acre of this land is worth millions. Full of treasures and recreational value, Forestry with grandeur and silvery rivers. The outside world's view is so limited, Simple folks living in the lap of rich bounty. Mentioned in world forums and organizations, But what of the goal of giving us freedom? What has The UN established in our name? To measure the pain and anguish we bear, At the hands, of our supposed benefactors. The saviours who has us fractured. But in reality they train their enforcers, In the art of creating oceans of tears. The red blood now hidden in camouflage, The spent shells now gathered and hidden. The leaders we are told to elect in electoral shams, Run publicity kiosks and swell friend lists. Joint conferences to address personal interests Dialogues that never address the root issues. Just the formalities and no sympathy, For the ones burnt in cruel sadistic reprisals. The hypocrisy continues deliriously unabated, More augmentation of the security forces. For a first hand view of deep hypocrisy, Walk this land, you know as beautiful. Religious leaders will teach you political artistry, Sermons full of ambiguity and guile. Waywardness and narrow mindedness on display, Political apologists give great lessons. Religion and religious ethnicity are tools, That keep minds and bodies in total check. Gamesmanship by leaders is the rule of thumb, As promises are forgotten once office is obtained. When writing of this succulent beautiful land, Write of the air, pregnant with sadistic practices. This land is being stripped of worldly treasures, And the greatest treasure is mistreated daily. The best of nation is the inhabitants, Ignored are the real gems of this beautiful paradise.
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49
Because I have had nothing, I am generous. Because I have been mistreated, I am kind. Because I have been lied to, I am honest. Because I have been foolish, I am wise. Because I have been hurt, I am happy. Because I have made mistakes, I have succeeded. Because I have endured, I am strong. ♥
0
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
Strength.
I can’t do this. It’s not you it’s me. I think we need to put this on hold. All things that girls say to him as their future relationships unfold After being mistreated, abused, neglected, rejected and taken advantage of he just can’t take it anymore Because these girls didn’t realize that for them, he would cross the seven seas, climb the highest mountain and so much more He was the most dedicated person when it came to his relationships Staying up all night, 5 am calls, thoughtful gifts and maybe even surprise trips But even doing all of that, the girls didn’t realize how special he was until it was too late He still didn’t let the hurt bother him because he knew that he would find his true love someday by fate Until then, all of his relationships would end with goodbye Because he was the unappreciated guy….
0
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 8:59 PM UTC
The Unappreciated Guy
I'd like to tell you a story It begins in 1492 When dear old Christopher Columbus Sailed the ocean blue He landed on what he thought To be the country of India He stumbled upon a group of people Who appeared to be indigenous Because these native people Happened to be where he thought he was He called them all "Indians" && somehow that name stuck They welcomed his group with open arms Even offered them their feast Unaware that deep inside They were but wolves, dressed as sheep Columbus && his crew Soon ravaged the land They took what they saw Then they took full command Of the people they found On the land where they landed They felt they should rule So they stepped in, heavy handed They murdered the people Who had taken them in Set fire to their villages While the victims watched with their kin Flash forward to the future It's now 2016 It's been over 500 years Since the overtaking by the regime Future settlers decided To let the survivors live on They designated them small areas Of what had not yet been robbed These Native Americans, Generally keep to themselves They get by living off their land But now they need your help The Sioux of Standing Rock Are being horribly mistreated The state of North Dakota Is poisoning them without reason A pipeline has been built That runs through this Native territory When Bismarck residents didn't want it It was rerouted, how discriminatory People from all over the country Are seeming to agree They are making the commute To protest peacefully In defense of an oppressed people Who only want to live But the government is stepping in Even blowing off some limbs "Let them die, they're not like us" the message the administration is sending It seems that after all this time The battle is never-ending What exactly does it take For people to see eye-to-eye? In the end we're all just human   We kiss, we laugh, we cry So if you have a heart at all If you know that this is wrong Please join the Sioux in their mission By coming together, we can be strong
0
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
History's Repeating
I'd like to tell you a story It begins in 1492 When dear old Christopher Columbus Sailed the ocean blue He landed on what he thought To be the country of India He stumbled upon a group of people Who appeared to be indigenous Because these native people Happened to be where he thought he was He called them all "Indians" && somehow that name stuck They welcomed his group with open arms Even offered them their feast Unaware that deep inside They were but wolves, dressed as sheep Columbus && his crew Soon ravaged the land They took what they saw Then they took full command Of the people they found On the land where they landed They felt they should rule So they stepped in, heavy handed They murdered the people Who had taken them in Set fire to their villages While the victims watched with their kin Flash forward to the future It's now 2016 It's been over 500 years Since the overtaking by the regime Future settlers decided To let the survivors live on They designated them small areas Of what had not yet been robbed These Native Americans, Generally keep to themselves They get by living off their land But now they need your help The Sioux of Standing Rock Are being horribly mistreated The state of North Dakota Is poisoning them without reason A pipeline has been built That runs through this Native territory When Bismarck residents didn't want it It was rerouted, how discriminatory People from all over the country Are seeming to agree They are making the commute To protest peacefully In defense of an oppressed people Who only want to live But the government is stepping in Even blowing off some limbs "Let them die, they're not like us" the message the administration is sending It seems that after all this time The battle is never-ending What exactly does it take For people to see eye-to-eye? In the end we're all just human   We kiss, we laugh, we cry So if you have a heart at all If you know that this is wrong Please join the Sioux in their mission By coming together, we can be strong
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68
I am not at fault. I didn't do anything wrong. Why am I being treated as though I did? Stop it with the pity and the shame. I am not ashamed. I don't need pity. Especially not yours. Life is messed up, but I am not. One in five. one in five. ONE IN FIVE One in five LGBTQ+ people have been mistreated because of their ****** orientation. It's not that hard to find these statistics. Look it up. Look up anything about LGBTQ+ people and I'm sure you'll find mistreatment. I'm sure you'll find harm. I'm sure you'll find that they harm themselves. Because they feel at fault. It's not their fault that they feel a common emotion towards another person you, selfish, close-minded.. mmm. No. Four in five. four in five. FOUR IN FIVE Don't talk about it. The way they were mistreated. If you don't really get that If you can't  really fathom that Almost all of them Almost every single one of these people that have been mistreated don't even talk about it they don't reach out they don't tell anyone NEARLY HALF of LGBTQ+ people in school are bullied Are mistreated Are hurt Are mocked Are called names *** ****** *** In school. Yeah, bullying happens all the time over stupid **** All the time. Wearing glasses, looking different, being gay. I get it. It happens. Whatever. Nearly half. "72 countries criminalise same-sex relationships ... The death penalty is either ‘allowed’, or evidence of its existence occurs, in 8 countries In more than half the world, LGBT people may not be protected from discrimination by workplace law Most governments deny trans people the right to legally change their name and gender from those that were assigned to them at birth Between 2008 and 2014, there were 1,612 trans people were murdered across 62 countries - equivalent to a killing every two days A quarter of the world’s population believes that being LGBT should be a crime" Oh hey, just some statistics. Isn't that interesting. Isn't it cool to take a step back and check that out. That's pretty crazy huh? Pretty outrageous. But, you know, maybe if you weren't such a *** I did nothing wrong. I tried to stop it. I tried. But how can you stop Doing What Is Natural. People are hurting People are dying People are being killed People are killing themselves Stop it with the pity and the shame. We are not to blame.
0
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 2:06 PM UTC
Shame on
I am not at fault. I didn't do anything wrong. Why am I being treated as though I did? Stop it with the pity and the shame. I am not ashamed. I don't need pity. Especially not yours. Life is messed up, but I am not. One in five. one in five. ONE IN FIVE One in five LGBTQ+ people have been mistreated because of their ****** orientation. It's not that hard to find these statistics. Look it up. Look up anything about LGBTQ+ people and I'm sure you'll find mistreatment. I'm sure you'll find harm. I'm sure you'll find that they harm themselves. Because they feel at fault. It's not their fault that they feel a common emotion towards another person you, selfish, close-minded.. mmm. No. Four in five. four in five. FOUR IN FIVE Don't talk about it. The way they were mistreated. If you don't really get that If you can't  really fathom that Almost all of them Almost every single one of these people that have been mistreated don't even talk about it they don't reach out they don't tell anyone NEARLY HALF of LGBTQ+ people in school are bullied Are mistreated Are hurt Are mocked Are called names *** ****** *** In school. Yeah, bullying happens all the time over stupid **** All the time. Wearing glasses, looking different, being gay. I get it. It happens. Whatever. Nearly half. "72 countries criminalise same-sex relationships ... The death penalty is either ‘allowed’, or evidence of its existence occurs, in 8 countries In more than half the world, LGBT people may not be protected from discrimination by workplace law Most governments deny trans people the right to legally change their name and gender from those that were assigned to them at birth Between 2008 and 2014, there were 1,612 trans people were murdered across 62 countries - equivalent to a killing every two days A quarter of the world’s population believes that being LGBT should be a crime" Oh hey, just some statistics. Isn't that interesting. Isn't it cool to take a step back and check that out. That's pretty crazy huh? Pretty outrageous. But, you know, maybe if you weren't such a *** I did nothing wrong. I tried to stop it. I tried. But how can you stop Doing What Is Natural. People are hurting People are dying People are being killed People are killing themselves Stop it with the pity and the shame. We are not to blame.
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61
Scared to smile around you so I stumble. Tumbling and fumbling and shaking Under your spell. I've been Mistreated and defeated I'm a Brambling idiot. I'm afraid of Loving and living and leaving. Eternity is such a long time to go without love.
0
Feb 16, 2010
Feb 16, 2010 at 5:25 PM UTC
Stumble
Misogyny, The hatered, objectification, and sexualization of women His hands were too big for my eight year old body My stomach turned in ways I could only describe as "icky" I screamed until I could no longer feel any breath left in my lungs "Stop it! Please! I don't like this game. Daddy stop!" Time slows Seeming like an eternity Every touch was like a sparkler Burning while tracing the path his fingers left on my body When he was finally done I gathered my thoughts and prayed to God to save me When I went to the bathroom to clean up I saw his handwriting on the mirror Scrawled across it was a verse saying Hell was my only destiny My body is not a bag of bones for you to play with and the burry Poisonous words foam from your mouth like rabid dogs You pick pieces of my pride from your teeth You think it’s okay to mess with women To make them feel vulnerable Just because you have a Napoleon Bonaparte complex That does not give you the right to steal our self-esteem To make up for the lack of your own You say “Well maybe YOU shouldn’t have worn those slutty heals, Or that dress, Or your hair that way.” You say “Maybe YOU should have done something to avoid being a target.” You say “Stop being so disrespectful. I just wanted to see your **** You have a real flair for excuses So excuse me when I tell you You will regret messing with a woman like me You see, I keep my heart strapped to my steel-toed combat boots And an army of mistreated women of speed-dial We will hold you captive and make our war paint from your blood As ransom notes fall from your mouth With the words “I’m sorry” scrawled across them I hate to break it to you But those words won’t sew up the open wounds you left us with When you came in to *** in and steal our innocence The thing you don’t seem to realize is You might have taken our innocence But that’s not what we are made of We consume strength for breakfast, Courage for lunch, Wisdom for dinner, And guys like you for a midnight snack. We’re not just warriors Were survivors What you do to us doesn't define us Were not broken Were beautiful And the more I think about it You’re just dogs chained to a tree While I’m the person Who’s going to put your treachery to sleep.
0
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
Ode to Misogyny
Misogyny, The hatered, objectification, and sexualization of women His hands were too big for my eight year old body My stomach turned in ways I could only describe as "icky" I screamed until I could no longer feel any breath left in my lungs "Stop it! Please! I don't like this game. Daddy stop!" Time slows Seeming like an eternity Every touch was like a sparkler Burning while tracing the path his fingers left on my body When he was finally done I gathered my thoughts and prayed to God to save me When I went to the bathroom to clean up I saw his handwriting on the mirror Scrawled across it was a verse saying Hell was my only destiny My body is not a bag of bones for you to play with and the burry Poisonous words foam from your mouth like rabid dogs You pick pieces of my pride from your teeth You think it’s okay to mess with women To make them feel vulnerable Just because you have a Napoleon Bonaparte complex That does not give you the right to steal our self-esteem To make up for the lack of your own You say “Well maybe YOU shouldn’t have worn those slutty heals, Or that dress, Or your hair that way.” You say “Maybe YOU should have done something to avoid being a target.” You say “Stop being so disrespectful. I just wanted to see your **** You have a real flair for excuses So excuse me when I tell you You will regret messing with a woman like me You see, I keep my heart strapped to my steel-toed combat boots And an army of mistreated women of speed-dial We will hold you captive and make our war paint from your blood As ransom notes fall from your mouth With the words “I’m sorry” scrawled across them I hate to break it to you But those words won’t sew up the open wounds you left us with When you came in to *** in and steal our innocence The thing you don’t seem to realize is You might have taken our innocence But that’s not what we are made of We consume strength for breakfast, Courage for lunch, Wisdom for dinner, And guys like you for a midnight snack. We’re not just warriors Were survivors What you do to us doesn't define us Were not broken Were beautiful And the more I think about it You’re just dogs chained to a tree While I’m the person Who’s going to put your treachery to sleep.
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53
Is it wrong to feel mistreated? To never be accepted? I believe there's something wrong, and I'm trying to stay strong. But I'm not sure if I can deal with this anymore or any less.
0
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 2:55 AM UTC
Untitled
Is it a bird? Or is it a plane? It's… It's… It's… It's no limit to your dreams, What you so desire to aspire to be, All you must do as hard as it seems Is believe that you can succeed; Others may try to hinder you stride, Some will so much as doubt you indeed, But you cannot surrender to kryptonite, Because I see the superwoman you are to me. Dignified, poised, strong, A superwoman you are to see; Confident, able, young, The superwoman you are to me; What a superwoman, to the rescue Even for villains whose ridicules tested you, They cannot outwit the superwoman.. You are to me. You have been mistreated, By slander, blackmail, and betrayal; Somehow you still stand undefeated, No one has seized you to fail; You are a heroine, a matriarch A woman of admiration in any degree; Willing to give and help from your heart, And that's the superwoman you are to me. Dignified, poised, strong, A superwoman you are to see; Confident, able, young, The superwoman you are to me; What a superwoman, to the rescue Even for villains whose ridicules tested you, They cannot outwit the superwoman.. You are to me. It's Superwoman!!!
0
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
Superwoman You Are
Habits Gluttony Greed Bribery Lustfulness Passed down Generation After generation After generation After generation Okay, I get it, it get it You get it, you get it. Let's get personal Born set up for failure My statistics not looking bright First baby born of color born into A family of strictly whites Grandmother beat my mother When she discovered The life forming inside of her Was half black - Don't cry mother, or I'll whither Inside of you. I grew and grew Taught lies upon lies About myself The other half of me. The only love I knew was of my mother. There was no other - Until she started to take it out on me Habits Passed From generation upon generation. She was sick and tired of being Sick and tired Stomped to the ground due to her Kindness Abused emotionally due to her Selfless-ness Mistreated physically due to her Weakness She took it out on me. Cornered me to a wall Choked me up Laughing - she couldn't get enough Of the amusement of my pain All done in vain Because she couldn't stop the strain Put on her brain. Scarring my face Pulling my hair Public places Not a care - Kicking Scratching Pulling Biting The agony The hate The battle wounds The hurt The scars - On my heart. Habits Passed from generation To generation To generation I was sick on the inside My heart - suffering - never ending bleeding My brain Psychologically ill Flashbacks I locked myself up in my room Head in pillow Screaming louder than your annoying baby sister who throws her unnecessary temper tantrums In the middle of the night. I tied myself up mentally Stuck Self-hate Self-abuse Self-hurt In the sixth grade I to myself - I wanted going to **** And my victim was myself. Filled with the poison - I was ill Injected with self-hate Hated my family Hated all my traits Hated all forms of humanity. Habits Passed From generation to generation To generation.
0
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
Poisonous Habits
Habits Gluttony Greed Bribery Lustfulness Passed down Generation After generation After generation After generation Okay, I get it, it get it You get it, you get it. Let's get personal Born set up for failure My statistics not looking bright First baby born of color born into A family of strictly whites Grandmother beat my mother When she discovered The life forming inside of her Was half black - Don't cry mother, or I'll whither Inside of you. I grew and grew Taught lies upon lies About myself The other half of me. The only love I knew was of my mother. There was no other - Until she started to take it out on me Habits Passed From generation upon generation. She was sick and tired of being Sick and tired Stomped to the ground due to her Kindness Abused emotionally due to her Selfless-ness Mistreated physically due to her Weakness She took it out on me. Cornered me to a wall Choked me up Laughing - she couldn't get enough Of the amusement of my pain All done in vain Because she couldn't stop the strain Put on her brain. Scarring my face Pulling my hair Public places Not a care - Kicking Scratching Pulling Biting The agony The hate The battle wounds The hurt The scars - On my heart. Habits Passed from generation To generation To generation I was sick on the inside My heart - suffering - never ending bleeding My brain Psychologically ill Flashbacks I locked myself up in my room Head in pillow Screaming louder than your annoying baby sister who throws her unnecessary temper tantrums In the middle of the night. I tied myself up mentally Stuck Self-hate Self-abuse Self-hurt In the sixth grade I to myself - I wanted going to **** And my victim was myself. Filled with the poison - I was ill Injected with self-hate Hated my family Hated all my traits Hated all forms of humanity. Habits Passed From generation to generation To generation.
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94
I gave in They yell at me They call me boney They call me a anorexic They tore my heart But this toilet healed it They knocked me down They told me to die They said I'm no good But my mama tell me to eat more because honey you're getting smaller! How can you stand tall when the world shuns you down?
0
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
Diary of the mistreated pt 2
You shouldn't let people mistreat you, no matter how big of a person they are, no matter the gender, no matter the age, note to self: (IN ORDER TO GET RESPECT TO HAVE TO DEMAND IT).
0
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC
"Mistreated"
slave is someone who does not have authority over their own lives slave is someone subservient controlled dominated by somebody something slave works very hard for little or no pay slave is property of somebody something slave is someone forced to obey sycophant is someone servile who overly flatters more powerful individual for personal gain sycophant is bootlicker brown-noser fawner flunkey doormat lackey lap-dog yes-men parasite toad-eater (pause reposition) somebody possessed of excessive vanity may cultivate sycophant swarms side by side they stand clothed in black not quite similar the one slightly taller possibly because the other suffers poor posture perhaps they are related because in odd way they appear alike or of same ilk yet upon closer scrutiny it becomes apparent they have very little or nothing in common the taller one with troubled sad eyes the other smiling obsequiously the taller one more muscular ***** from working menial labor the other with curved spine slumped shoulders because of undue bowing and crouching while blowing smoke up other people’s ***** sadist is someone who attains ****** gratification by inflicting physical pain shame to other people sadist is someone who delights in excessive cruelty degradation to others ********* is someone who achieves ****** pleasure from being hurt humiliated abused dominated punished often self-inflicted ********* is someone who enjoys being harmed misused mistreated ignored by others sadomasochist is someone who gets ****** gratification by alternately or simultaneously enduring hurt causing pain to somebody else sadomasochist is combination of sadistic masochistic tendencies in someone who obtains ****** pleasure from inflicting submitting to pain cruelty sycophant slave snakes up leg of movie actress dictator who gains pain through pleasure 2000 miles from equator IED cell phone detonator sycophant dilettante ***** up to sadistic art critic or publishing editor on escalator while below on main floor of shopping mall ice rink figure skater pirouettes bows to nominator surreptitiously bribed by infiltrator mutilator
0
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 4:38 AM UTC
sycophant slave snakes up leg of movie actress dictator
slave is someone who does not have authority over their own lives slave is someone subservient controlled dominated by somebody something slave works very hard for little or no pay slave is property of somebody something slave is someone forced to obey sycophant is someone servile who overly flatters more powerful individual for personal gain sycophant is bootlicker brown-noser fawner flunkey doormat lackey lap-dog yes-men parasite toad-eater (pause reposition) somebody possessed of excessive vanity may cultivate sycophant swarms side by side they stand clothed in black not quite similar the one slightly taller possibly because the other suffers poor posture perhaps they are related because in odd way they appear alike or of same ilk yet upon closer scrutiny it becomes apparent they have very little or nothing in common the taller one with troubled sad eyes the other smiling obsequiously the taller one more muscular ***** from working menial labor the other with curved spine slumped shoulders because of undue bowing and crouching while blowing smoke up other people’s ***** sadist is someone who attains ****** gratification by inflicting physical pain shame to other people sadist is someone who delights in excessive cruelty degradation to others ********* is someone who achieves ****** pleasure from being hurt humiliated abused dominated punished often self-inflicted ********* is someone who enjoys being harmed misused mistreated ignored by others sadomasochist is someone who gets ****** gratification by alternately or simultaneously enduring hurt causing pain to somebody else sadomasochist is combination of sadistic masochistic tendencies in someone who obtains ****** pleasure from inflicting submitting to pain cruelty sycophant slave snakes up leg of movie actress dictator who gains pain through pleasure 2000 miles from equator IED cell phone detonator sycophant dilettante ***** up to sadistic art critic or publishing editor on escalator while below on main floor of shopping mall ice rink figure skater pirouettes bows to nominator surreptitiously bribed by infiltrator mutilator
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7
There's cheese and watermelons everywhere....and a picket fence on all the houses down the street. "Let's come out and play!" he said to her. "Just this once, I promise!" But she refused, she walked down the street- with her head held high and said to him: "Can't you see I'm busy? I'm trying to find my thoughts!" "Just this once!" He repeated, excited. "We never think together anymore..." (Don't we?) But she just kept walking, now past the picket fences and the watermelon trees. She was wandering where they went to. She saw them last week sitting at her left side- but never again since. He tried to catch up with her and hold her hand. But she roughly removed it and said: "Let me find my thoughts alone, please." And so the street, not so long came to an end and she had not found an idea- not one, not a lonesome thought. But the watermelon trees were growing, faster and faster every time. "Hey! Come help me! I need you, where have you gone?" (I'm here) But the poor boy left, mistreated and all- she wanted her space, that's all. "Come on! Help me! I need you now, more than ever! I'm sorry! I don't need to think, there's no need to think. Thinking is fool's game!" But there was no more boy. He had walked back already. Crossed to the other street and found a person to greet him happily. A giant watermelon came from the picked, giant tree and took her by the shirt and lifted her up high and held her up and opened up its giant mouth and got a grip of her by the waist with its giant leaves and big black seeds came as it screamed and in she went while she cried and wept. There now, they have their space. Maybe later their paths will cross again and if they do it will be love and if its love then it is real and if its real- there’s no watermelon trees at all.
0
Aug 7, 2011
Aug 7, 2011 at 12:28 PM UTC
Watermelon Trees
There's cheese and watermelons everywhere....and a picket fence on all the houses down the street. "Let's come out and play!" he said to her. "Just this once, I promise!" But she refused, she walked down the street- with her head held high and said to him: "Can't you see I'm busy? I'm trying to find my thoughts!" "Just this once!" He repeated, excited. "We never think together anymore..." (Don't we?) But she just kept walking, now past the picket fences and the watermelon trees. She was wandering where they went to. She saw them last week sitting at her left side- but never again since. He tried to catch up with her and hold her hand. But she roughly removed it and said: "Let me find my thoughts alone, please." And so the street, not so long came to an end and she had not found an idea- not one, not a lonesome thought. But the watermelon trees were growing, faster and faster every time. "Hey! Come help me! I need you, where have you gone?" (I'm here) But the poor boy left, mistreated and all- she wanted her space, that's all. "Come on! Help me! I need you now, more than ever! I'm sorry! I don't need to think, there's no need to think. Thinking is fool's game!" But there was no more boy. He had walked back already. Crossed to the other street and found a person to greet him happily. A giant watermelon came from the picked, giant tree and took her by the shirt and lifted her up high and held her up and opened up its giant mouth and got a grip of her by the waist with its giant leaves and big black seeds came as it screamed and in she went while she cried and wept. There now, they have their space. Maybe later their paths will cross again and if they do it will be love and if its love then it is real and if its real- there’s no watermelon trees at all.
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19
I'm sorry. I apologize. I never want to hurt anyone ever again. I know that sometimes we do or say things we don't mean, but even though we don't mean these things they still hurt people. I don't want to be remembered as the girl who mistreated others because she was so upset with herself. I'm not going to purposely or even non-purposely make someone feel sad or upset. I care. If I've ever mistreated you or hurt you. Please understand that I made a mistake. I may not have realized I hurt you. But I'm sorry. You don't have to forgive me. Just know that purposely hurting someone was never my intention. And it will never be. I'm genuinely sorry. Truly.
0
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
I truly am sorry....
love is hard, so tear stained faces and dreams crushed beneath a falling sky are not worth your time. to experience screaming silence and fingers that caress the world and not you; truth be told put your trust in someone different. pray that the path you tread upon not be knocked from underneath you because the harsh reality is it will be, if you still choose the man with the cold blood that courses through his veins. sadly, coldness is all too familiar to you and it's what you like the most.
0
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 10:47 AM UTC
Mistreated
Here lies a calculator, once unstoppable, Together we solved the world’s problems. Your black buttons warmed my hands, While my head was cooled by the solutions you created. Stress relieving buttons, How I often mistreated you, Slamming my fingers into your soul, Jabbing your rugged terrain. My intelligence blossomed with you at my side, But now you have shrivelled up, Shedding your petals, one equation at a time, Until you are planted in the grave you resemble. I etched my name into you At the start of our glorious friendship- A sacred bond that would last forever. Now, at the end, I engrave again. This time there is no solution.
0
Feb 14, 2011
Feb 14, 2011 at 12:10 PM UTC
Ode to a Deceased Calculator
your body, the drain plug, that climactic days of a day murky sweet strawberry milk water ebbs and sways around, surrounds, and surmounts you Your body the dumping ground for pretty poppy seeds seep, steep seeded somewhere deep as synthetic stinging metaphor rain pours on your mistreated singing skin spotted, dotted, synaptic rule akin to lemon poppy seed muffin tops your head- a top spins round and mimics never-ending bath drain whirlpool ambulances and ambivalences soundtrack this nocturne night of a morning mourning already my poor lost sister a little less than intact lost in her head I'm loosing her and she's nodding and she's nodding and she's nodding and she's nodding and she nods and grumbles, fumbles for words that aren't there four words that aren't there forward isn't there because what do you say about matters when your high and breathing last breaths overlapping in humble showers in heart crumbling nakedness your faithlessness trapping murky sweet strawberry milk waters.
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Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
strawberry milk
Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long dark way That I had to climb, that I had to know In order that the race might live and grow. Look at my face -- dark as the night -- Yet shining like the sun with love's true light. I am the dark girl who crossed the red sea Carrying in my body the seed of the free. I am the woman who worked in the field Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield. I am the one who labored as a slave, Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave -- Children sold away from me, I'm husband sold, too. No safety , no love, no respect was I due. Three hundred years in the deepest South: But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth . God put a dream like steel in my soul. Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal. Now, through my children, young and free, I realized the blessing deed to me. I couldn't read then. I couldn't write. I had nothing, back there in the night. Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears, But I kept trudging on through the lonely years. Sometimes, the road was hot with the sun, But I had to keep on till my work was done: I had to keep on! No stopping for me -- I was the seed of the coming Free. I nourished the dream that nothing could smother Deep in my breast -- the ***** mother. I had only hope then , but now through you, Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true: All you dark children in the world out there, Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair. Remember my years, heavy with sorrow -- And make of those years a torch for tomorrow. Make of my pass a road to the light Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night. Lift high my banner out of the dust. Stand like free men supporting my trust. Believe in the right, let none push you back. Remember the whip and the slaver's track. Remember how the strong in struggle and strife Still bar you the way, and deny you life -- But march ever forward, breaking down bars. Look ever upward at the sun and the stars. Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers Impel you forever up the great stairs -- For I will be with you till no white brother Dares keep down the children of the ***** Mother.
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The ***** Mother
Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long dark way That I had to climb, that I had to know In order that the race might live and grow. Look at my face -- dark as the night -- Yet shining like the sun with love's true light. I am the dark girl who crossed the red sea Carrying in my body the seed of the free. I am the woman who worked in the field Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield. I am the one who labored as a slave, Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave -- Children sold away from me, I'm husband sold, too. No safety , no love, no respect was I due. Three hundred years in the deepest South: But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth . God put a dream like steel in my soul. Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal. Now, through my children, young and free, I realized the blessing deed to me. I couldn't read then. I couldn't write. I had nothing, back there in the night. Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears, But I kept trudging on through the lonely years. Sometimes, the road was hot with the sun, But I had to keep on till my work was done: I had to keep on! No stopping for me -- I was the seed of the coming Free. I nourished the dream that nothing could smother Deep in my breast -- the ***** mother. I had only hope then , but now through you, Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true: All you dark children in the world out there, Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair. Remember my years, heavy with sorrow -- And make of those years a torch for tomorrow. Make of my pass a road to the light Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night. Lift high my banner out of the dust. Stand like free men supporting my trust. Believe in the right, let none push you back. Remember the whip and the slaver's track. Remember how the strong in struggle and strife Still bar you the way, and deny you life -- But march ever forward, breaking down bars. Look ever upward at the sun and the stars. Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers Impel you forever up the great stairs -- For I will be with you till no white brother Dares keep down the children of the ***** Mother.
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When you were heartbroken I showered you with affection I gave you all of my love I allowed you to forget about all the bad And start loving your life again When you felt worthless I made you feel confident I reminded you of your beauty I got you to feel **** And start loving yourself again But what you did to me Was something much different You drained me of all my love Made me feel unwanted by you My efforts were never truly reciprocated And you gave me up like I was nothing You made me hate my life You made it impossible for me To wake up in the morning Much less do anything else You made me hate myself
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Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
Mistreated
Shy Girl hides beneath her hood Her hair covers her face Her headphones blare a beautiful sound Protecting her from this evil place She is lonely Mistreated And loved only one guy Who killed her inside Her soul is dark Crawling with demons and rage At war with herself "Which wolf will win? Good or bad? The one you feed." If you had a heart you'd end her suffering She hides this all inside On the outside it's just Shy Girl
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Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 2:10 PM UTC
Shy Girl
How many times will I say, write, or perform a mistake? Everlong it seems, because no matter how far I travel someone's there telling me I'm wrong or that I'm just not ready. I thought it would die like a flower buried in snow What the hell was I thinking? What the hell was I reading? Believing family could act accordingly when they saw a new lion ,but like they said I will always be a cub. There is no other place for me. To explore! To leave the nest even if the farthest I go is to the nearest branch And to be look upon as a bird with just a few miles in his wings To explore! to indulge with peers, to embrace society, and to be mistreated. Oh! what a treat it is to be mistreated, to feel alive and unaccepted in the same breath If only I could get past the unaccepted part maybe it be easier to love myself. To love another, but first I must love thy self. To love one self and to take reminders of my flaws and look upon them as compliments. To humble my strengths and listen clearly to my loud mistakes. In the end of this poem I decided to be than not to be. And to live rather than to sleep.Oh Hamlet how could you ever be so indecisive, now you will forever be remembered as just a prince.
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Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 8:57 PM UTC
How Not To Be Like Hamlet
* An old  Song on  King Maveli goes somewhat like this. When the legendary King Maveli, Once governed over the land, God’s own country, Kerala, All the citizens had equality; And citizens were joyful and cheerful; They were all free from mischief; There was neither worry nor illness, There were no lies, prevailing; There was neither theft nor dishonesty, And no one was false in words either. Measures and weights were right; No one cheated or mistreated. When Maveli, our King, ruled the land, All the people created one caste-less race; And lived harmoniously as one family * ** WILLIAMSJI MAVELI* www.mavelinadu.com www.maveliveedu.com [email protected] **
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Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
An Old Song on KING MAVELI*