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"noooo" poems
It goes( as it always goes, to ) : ! PENALTIES ! A chorus of "Oh Noooos'!" rises from the fans like winter breath from cattle Hamlet, places it: ...steps back to take it &. . . "Do it England!" the fanatic fans chant "Dooooo....Itttt...Angle...la...and!" Hamlet thinks ( No...nOOOO Hamlet don't .     .     .think! ) But it is alas -too late he has already thunked! "If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come it will be now!" "Duh!" the fans think "Agggghh...just do it!" The thoughts sprout from his great big noggin like a cartoon speech bubble. "...if it be now now yet it will come!" "The readiness is all!" Hamlet runs up to the waiting ball. Hamlet hushes his thought process strikes the ball with his right foot &.     .     . "To be or, aggggghhhh noooooo!" After that comma  that negative sentence. 'NOT TO BE!" jeer the rival fans 'GIT THEEEE...TOA...NONE...ER...EEE!" Hamlet ends it all with a bare bodkin. "O, O, O, O." Dies "Football is not...." as Shankly so succinctly put it "...a matter of life and death. It's. . . much much more important than that!" The rest. Is. silence.
0
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
HAMLET AT THE WORLD CUP
HAMLET AT THE WORLD CUP It goes( as it always goes, to ) : ! PENALTIES ! A chorus of "Oh Noooos'!" rises from the fans like winter breath from cattle Hamlet, places it: ...steps back to take it &. . . "Do it England!" the fanatic fans chant "Dooooo....Itttt...Angle...la...and!" Hamlet thinks ( No...nOOOO Hamlet don't . . .think! ) But it is alas -too late he has already thunked! "If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come it will be now!" "Duh!" the fans think "Agggghh...just do it!" The thoughts sprout from his great big noggin like a cartoon speech bubble. "...if it be not now yet it will come!" "The readiness is all!" Hamlet runs up to the waiting ball. Hamlet hushes his thought process strikes the ball with his right foot &. . . "To be or, aggggghhhh noooooo!" After that comma that negative sentence. 'NOT TO BE!" jeer the rival fans 'GIT THEEEE...TOA...NONE...ER...EEE!" Hamlet ends it all with a bare bodkin. "O, O, O, O." Dies "Football is not...." as Shankly so succinctly put it "...a matter of life and death. It's. . . much much more important than that!" The rest. Is. silence.
0
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
HAMLET AT THE WORLD CUP
please to admit, it is true & not too deep within, a scientifically proven and a oddly curio shop fact, we are all aliens to each other, despite, the overlapping of a billion permutations of cellular related associations our individuating palettes the diversity of our genetics, other than the physics of sharing a planet, simplest put, no one can ever be exactly the same, the precisely of you or me, doppelgängers notwithstanding, our individuation, so incredibly due to our blessed diversification, that to subdivide ourselves from others, is a downward                                                            facing absolutely ridiculous ideation and thus we reveal here and (n/kn-ow) that the only reason we aliens unique nonetheless can communicate with each other, regardless of alphabet or character of idiom, (or idiots of character) is *all alien beings love to breathe and speak intuitively in a pleasing rhyme and meter,* to the ear of our overlapping physique, and that is why, every tongue is connectable, and every alpha produces its own poetic creations, 'tis poetic soundings alliterating glue, that molds this planet of aliens from a tower of babel into a shapely sphere
0
Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 1:05 AM UTC
noooo brother, you're the alien!
GRANDFATHER CLOCK "When granda died he turned into a clock!" I was 7 or so, so this seemed an acceptable fact. "Oh we still kept him in the corner wound him up every night." I glanced at the nothing in the corner. There was only a slab of sunlight dozing. "Oh we had to pawn him a long time ago!" I gasped: "Noooo!" "Oh he had to go he had only one hand and his pendulum was broken." Sam the dog barks asks if I am coming out to play. I of course am coming out to play. Auntie Nellie scolds Uncle Michael. "For God's sake Mikey will ya ****** well stop!" Mikey sticks his tongue in cheek a characteristic tic. "Can't ya see the poor child is ejeet enough to believe ya!" Whenever later I chance to meet a clock that could be my granda I touch its face tenderly stroke the mottled glass "Ahhh Granda!" I smile giving him a great big hug. "TickTock!" says granda **** ****
0
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 5:04 PM UTC
GRANDFATHER CLOCK
“Beneath the willow She’s singing Beneath the willow She’s waiting. Beneath the willow Under the willow Her body Is now laid to rest” A simple rhythm I follow A simple tune I hum A simple song I used to sing In those days, When I was young But I’m not a kid Not like the other kids They form a circle. Hands held together. Dance around; Enjoy singing I, On the other hand, Kept thinking And thinking. Why is there a willow? Why is the woman there? “Laid to rest”. How? Shot, eaten, Poisoned? May have died of old age. May have not. I wanted to know… Already 18; I went into the woods. Looked for the willow I know Two before, now three. To the center willow; “What was she singing? Why was she here?” There was nothing. Just dead silence. Asked again, Yet no response. Maybe, just maybe I’m already losing my mind I needed rest. Something startled me. A stone, Not any kind of stone. A graveyard stone So old; Dirt covered the entirety, Although I have read these words. “My beloved Willow, For whoever finds your grave Will be your eternal companion” Is it just me? Or is my mind on it again? Doing its tricks, Because of a graveyard stone? Wind blew for a moment As if someone passed by Then I heard it, I heard the song. I saw a woman, Heard her singing. I stood there, Paralyzed In a long white gown Hair dangling, Towards me, She walked. Run… Run!! RUN!!! Screaming in my head. But I couldn’t She got hold of me Her hands, Gripping tightly my arms. I could not escape, I could not run Gripping me, Still singing “Beneath the willows You’re singing Beneath the willows You’re waiting Beneath the willows Under the willows Your body Will be laid to rest” Her head is up. Her eyes, Bloodshot red. Gazing into my very soul. “Let go of me Please let go.” Remains in my head No word can I speak. Feeling heavy Helpless As I try, Making an inch move, I am slowly devoured. Not by her. A willow. Not two Not three Just one ****** willow Slowly Crushing me Can’t get out Nowhere to escape STOP!!! STOP!!! Trying to catch my breath Agonized, screaming Endlessly. NOOOO!!! Fully consuming me. Awakened by my mother. Embrace, she whispers, “It was all just a dream. My only beloved Willow”.
0
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 6:11 PM UTC
BENEATH THE WILLOW
“Beneath the willow She’s singing Beneath the willow She’s waiting. Beneath the willow Under the willow Her body Is now laid to rest” A simple rhythm I follow A simple tune I hum A simple song I used to sing In those days, When I was young But I’m not a kid Not like the other kids They form a circle. Hands held together. Dance around; Enjoy singing I, On the other hand, Kept thinking And thinking. Why is there a willow? Why is the woman there? “Laid to rest”. How? Shot, eaten, Poisoned? May have died of old age. May have not. I wanted to know… Already 18; I went into the woods. Looked for the willow I know Two before, now three. To the center willow; “What was she singing? Why was she here?” There was nothing. Just dead silence. Asked again, Yet no response. Maybe, just maybe I’m already losing my mind I needed rest. Something startled me. A stone, Not any kind of stone. A graveyard stone So old; Dirt covered the entirety, Although I have read these words. “My beloved Willow, For whoever finds your grave Will be your eternal companion” Is it just me? Or is my mind on it again? Doing its tricks, Because of a graveyard stone? Wind blew for a moment As if someone passed by Then I heard it, I heard the song. I saw a woman, Heard her singing. I stood there, Paralyzed In a long white gown Hair dangling, Towards me, She walked. Run… Run!! RUN!!! Screaming in my head. But I couldn’t She got hold of me Her hands, Gripping tightly my arms. I could not escape, I could not run Gripping me, Still singing “Beneath the willows You’re singing Beneath the willows You’re waiting Beneath the willows Under the willows Your body Will be laid to rest” Her head is up. Her eyes, Bloodshot red. Gazing into my very soul. “Let go of me Please let go.” Remains in my head No word can I speak. Feeling heavy Helpless As I try, Making an inch move, I am slowly devoured. Not by her. A willow. Not two Not three Just one ****** willow Slowly Crushing me Can’t get out Nowhere to escape STOP!!! STOP!!! Trying to catch my breath Agonized, screaming Endlessly. NOOOO!!! Fully consuming me. Awakened by my mother. Embrace, she whispers, “It was all just a dream. My only beloved Willow”.
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127
There is no reaction except to disagree Loving  words,  wasted on useless ears. Mind not comprehending, loving melodies Dead space, Nothing. Words of encouragement cast aside Insecurity races forward  and dominates Cry inside, left alone to contemplate relationship. a hint of love would satisfy emotions Nothing Sitting at dinner with nothing Random useless conversation, filling voids Carelessly spewing obscenities at behaviours Seldom stopping to understand Nothing I love you a ton, maybe two, noooo maybe three or maybe not at all, No reaction Said to loud , others may hear, whisper sweet nothings to empty space. mind strays to other possibilities Nothing Personalities clash, opinions are pointless Care or dare to care, who's winning Walk away slouched shoulders, broken inside No more feelings, numbness Nothing. Rage at the  nothing Find answers as to why. But, there is anger at the nothing There must be something.
0
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
nothing
The wind of change the wind of Revolution,on our sails soon it will sweep across all countries all over my beloved continent Stronger than the harmattan I hear it is the cry has been heard the wails are too loud the battle lines drawn young nigerians say no to tsars and hell noooo to SARS message is one #abolish SARS a united no to oppression fear not their portion Beginning of the end they are ready ready to reclaim the soul of Africa message is one from young Nigerians we want to live,we want to be safe Respect our existence or expect our resistance !!!
0
Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 4:59 AM UTC
End SARS
yeah, yeah no, no yeah, YEAH, yeah noooo, no yeah, yeah, no, no yeah, no, yeah, yeah no, no, no
0
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 4:33 PM UTC
'90s rock song
COME ON UNI-TED!!!!!!!!!! No ****** Rooney Injured De Gea injured in the ---kin' warm up!!! For ---k's sake! In the warm up!!!!! Yes! Yes!..... Oh you ******** Referee! Are you ---kin' blind?!!! That was NEVER a foul! Who's paying your ---kin' wages Yer tw-t !!! YEEES!! MEMPHIS!!!!!!!! Fabulous goal! Waddaya mean lucky? ohh no, kick him ---Kin' kick him!!! OHHH NOOOO!!! What the ---k are ya playin' at!!! THAT was a lucky goal The ******** Thank ---k it's half time I need a smoke Phew, I'm knackered with another half to go                                                  By Phil Roberts
0
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
SWEARING AT THE FOOTBALL
Yea, I'll bet yr thrilled to see, me yo read me Cool Ya read peas? Maybe a spool. Wow. That's callee da burn grab the allo I pop right b aka up on the trending poems , player and hat ears see me and go noooo,,,, But I fight back, I don't retract my neighbor my neighbor I Eat his cat rack jv,. Owe
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 9:40 AM UTC
Contaminate they flooded mainstream my neighbor
No. I have no terror I will avenge you. You say karma will but I'm not waitin' on it. Besides I'm not afriad to. You were my eyes when the fog I couldn't see through. Tell me now. And tell me the the whole truth. Did he harm you? No. I've never been here before. But you I will do it for. If I don't stop him he will try and do it more. Ohhhh. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhh. Noooo. Noooooo. Nooooo. No. He won't do it no more. My sweet friend. I promise he wont do it again. My pleasure was inside his pain. I took retaliation in your name. I'm the champion. I'm your defender. I will be your watcher...your preserver. It was easy. ***** threw his hands up. Tried to surrender. But that didn't work...was already over. You said that he harmed you. Ohhhh. Noooo. Noooooooooo. He won't do it no more. -Jennifer DeAngelo Copyrighted 2016
0
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 11:44 PM UTC
I Got You.
We walk together, hand in hand, through the dappled light of the forest. You are my little brother and my best friend. All is right with the world. We watch rabbits scurry and squirrels jumping from limb to limb. Birds watch perched upon high tree tops singing their lullabies . The earth is soft beneath our feet, the dankness of decay filling our noses. Ahead the light becomes brighter. YES! Let's go and see what is before us! We find a clearing - a meadow of wild flowers. Colorful and bright. Sweet smelling delight! Ahead we see a castle. Excitement pulses through our veins. We must run through the meadow. Crushing little flowers as we go, the sun warm on our faces. A bridge made of stone and brick rises before us. We slow for a minute to take it all in but in a sudden movement, you rush ahead of me. I hear a scream and run to catch up. A mother python waits with her 3 babies curled around her. She is coral in color and a beautiful specimen. You were too curious and did not take caution. She has bitten you and your hand bleeds. Your skin has turned so white it is nearly translucent. You stumble backward. Before I can catch you, you fall over the bridge's edge and into the river below. I scramble down to get to where you lay amongst the rocks and icy water. With heroic powers, I pick you up and carry you to land. You are dying in my arms. The castle is forgotten and I run as hard as I can to find your salvation. Your breathing slows. I run through the meadow, into the forest, and my arms are growing tired. Noooo! Please don't die. I fall to my knees with you in my arms. Your red hair seems even brighter against your ever whitening skin. Are you breathing? I rest my head to your chest. A light, faint, slowing beat. My face is wet with tears. I am failing. How can I save you when I can no longer carry you?
0
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 10:14 AM UTC
A dream - my brother
We walk together, hand in hand, through the dappled light of the forest. You are my little brother and my best friend. All is right with the world. We watch rabbits scurry and squirrels jumping from limb to limb. Birds watch perched upon high tree tops singing their lullabies . The earth is soft beneath our feet, the dankness of decay filling our noses. Ahead the light becomes brighter. YES! Let's go and see what is before us! We find a clearing - a meadow of wild flowers. Colorful and bright. Sweet smelling delight! Ahead we see a castle. Excitement pulses through our veins. We must run through the meadow. Crushing little flowers as we go, the sun warm on our faces. A bridge made of stone and brick rises before us. We slow for a minute to take it all in but in a sudden movement, you rush ahead of me. I hear a scream and run to catch up. A mother python waits with her 3 babies curled around her. She is coral in color and a beautiful specimen. You were too curious and did not take caution. She has bitten you and your hand bleeds. Your skin has turned so white it is nearly translucent. You stumble backward. Before I can catch you, you fall over the bridge's edge and into the river below. I scramble down to get to where you lay amongst the rocks and icy water. With heroic powers, I pick you up and carry you to land. You are dying in my arms. The castle is forgotten and I run as hard as I can to find your salvation. Your breathing slows. I run through the meadow, into the forest, and my arms are growing tired. Noooo! Please don't die. I fall to my knees with you in my arms. Your red hair seems even brighter against your ever whitening skin. Are you breathing? I rest my head to your chest. A light, faint, slowing beat. My face is wet with tears. I am failing. How can I save you when I can no longer carry you?
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18
been awhile, since kept my named promise, but here I am writing about planting, love making, one of which I’ve got a small amount of almost expired experience that still asks to be shared & sharing, whom am I to say nooooo late August, and the hush all over the place, in the sad notes of chilling & distilling the seasons fantasy, summer will be forever here, escape to the sea sunroom visionary, the ceiling fan whirring low and slow, should the heat increase, onerous march of dimes times suspended here, almost, hoping the heat will increase, and those negative dropped acorn hints, early falling leaves, crumbs of nooooo when we make love in the afternoon will pour a little sugar on you honey, it will be a viscous wall to hold back change, sticking everything in its place, “as is” just as it exists at this precise second, wearing manly summer pink, every day and no one thinks it strange, everything’s green though rain is forbidden here like in Camelot + the sound of noooo more is swallowed up in ooooohs and ahs, and if making love in the morning, afternoon and all evening is what it takes to stop time, to seize this day as a permanent forever day, no sacrifice to great, no none, no nope, yes to nooooo...
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Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 10:02 AM UTC
keeping my named promise (noooo)
Let's see, my oldest son was about seven years old.  The boys had to ride a buss to school, which my oldest did not do well.  He has this way about him, that tends to have women authoritative figures letting him off the hook, when he's been naughty.  I always thought it was his eyes and devilish smile.  They both still get him into and out of trouble.  But those are stories for another time. This particular year, he was having a must difficult time behaving on the buss.  He had discovered that he could be a real clown and the girls loved it.  Go figure.  The buss driver gave him multiple warnings and "Buss Tickets" for misbehaving.  But, somehow, he was always forgiven by the schools principal (a woman) and never got detention.   Even when we insisted on it. All except this one time.  On the last day of school, he decided to end the year with a bang.  He came home from school that day and acted as though nothing had happened.  Later that evening, I received a phone call.  It was the buss driver.  She was laughing before she was even able to tell me why she called.  Although I was 100% sure it was about my oldest. Apparently, he was a little angel the whole ride home.  That alone made her suspicious.   She pulled up to his stop.  Out he got.  Then he mooned her.  The way the buss driver told it, it wasn't a quarter moon, nor a half moon.  But a FULL MOON.  He had hitched up his pants and ran before she could get her wits about her.  She said she laughed all the way home. Well, I started to apologize through my laughter.  I assured her that we would most definitely take this in hand.  But she stopped me and stated "Oh,  I'll handle this".  She shared with me her plan.  I had the hardest time all summer, not telling him, that I knew what he had done. Next year, the very first day of school, my oldest went to catch the buss.  Oh, I had a hard time waiting to see what would happen.  That afternoon, when he came home, he was upset.  "Look what she did Mom!  I can't believe it!" he whined.  There in his hand, was a bright red "BUSS TICKET"  The reason on it was marked in bold felt pen..."Mooning".  Now, you would think that he would be upset about the mooning.   Noooo, not my son.  His exact words were...."I can't believe someone that old would remember what I did." sigh  That boy has never changed On a side note:  He and his Dad had a long talk about that Ticket.
0
Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 5:37 PM UTC
Of Full Moons And School Buses
Let's see, my oldest son was about seven years old.  The boys had to ride a buss to school, which my oldest did not do well.  He has this way about him, that tends to have women authoritative figures letting him off the hook, when he's been naughty.  I always thought it was his eyes and devilish smile.  They both still get him into and out of trouble.  But those are stories for another time. This particular year, he was having a must difficult time behaving on the buss.  He had discovered that he could be a real clown and the girls loved it.  Go figure.  The buss driver gave him multiple warnings and "Buss Tickets" for misbehaving.  But, somehow, he was always forgiven by the schools principal (a woman) and never got detention.   Even when we insisted on it. All except this one time.  On the last day of school, he decided to end the year with a bang.  He came home from school that day and acted as though nothing had happened.  Later that evening, I received a phone call.  It was the buss driver.  She was laughing before she was even able to tell me why she called.  Although I was 100% sure it was about my oldest. Apparently, he was a little angel the whole ride home.  That alone made her suspicious.   She pulled up to his stop.  Out he got.  Then he mooned her.  The way the buss driver told it, it wasn't a quarter moon, nor a half moon.  But a FULL MOON.  He had hitched up his pants and ran before she could get her wits about her.  She said she laughed all the way home. Well, I started to apologize through my laughter.  I assured her that we would most definitely take this in hand.  But she stopped me and stated "Oh,  I'll handle this".  She shared with me her plan.  I had the hardest time all summer, not telling him, that I knew what he had done. Next year, the very first day of school, my oldest went to catch the buss.  Oh, I had a hard time waiting to see what would happen.  That afternoon, when he came home, he was upset.  "Look what she did Mom!  I can't believe it!" he whined.  There in his hand, was a bright red "BUSS TICKET"  The reason on it was marked in bold felt pen..."Mooning".  Now, you would think that he would be upset about the mooning.   Noooo, not my son.  His exact words were...."I can't believe someone that old would remember what I did." sigh  That boy has never changed On a side note:  He and his Dad had a long talk about that Ticket.
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33
The room seems like a palace Made of glass and gel You’ll never learn the truth Until a tour of nine circles of hell Mommy you have no idea You trust so much on my utopia They say the fault is in our stars And now I’ve become a monster Yes a monster….yes….yes a monster…. May be a blood bad wolf Hunting an angel rabbit Love’s death in a midnight run Oh no, you can’t endure my heat Daddy you have no idea The hollow moon have become a trader My name, I’ve given to gangsters And now I’ve become a monster Oh yes I’ve become a monster….. People can’t get into the iron heart Cause it’s locked now part by part People talk behind ‘cause they Can’t even understand….oh noooo…. They can’t even understand….. That this monster had also a heart once Made of emotions and Ooooo… so much pain Now it breaks free the chain of marks And yes, now it’s become a monster…. A monster….a monster….. Oooooooo……………
0
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 12:43 PM UTC
MONSTER
It's September 2013. A Coronal Mass Ejection scorched the Earth, collapsing the Global infrastructure. Those that weren't fried up in the killshot traverse a world nearly foreign to them, devoid of any form of luxury. They make their ways to the FEMA camps, setup all over the United States, because that's what their TVs told them to do, just days before the blast. But they knew since the Remote Viewing program began in the Cold War. A teenage boy, now forced to be a man, leads his Mother through the terrain, avoiding building fires and roving gangs. Finally they arrive, the camp like a shimmering oasis in the burned out barrens. They stand in line at the gates, poor and huddled masses. When it is their turn, they present the IDs they were informed to bring. "Sorry son, your name's on the list, you can't get in." "What do you mean? What list." "The list of people who didn't know how to keep their mouths shut on facebook. So, you're out, but your Mom can come in." Another guard approaches and squires her in at gunpoint. "No, I won't go, not without my Son!" To which the guard interjects "Shut the **** up.. take your clothes off.. we're going to pour powdered sugar on you." "Noooo! Mahhhhhhhm." "We're gonna **** your Mom kid." the gatekeeper laughs. Insert Whale sound
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Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 12:58 PM UTC
Killshot
"oh, by the way- i didn't do it- but the other day when i was doing dishes-" (i heard his voice hollow out and bounce in an echo out of the kitchen sink) my expression dropped immediately from the other room "noooo" i cried "which one?" he prefaced his answer by pacing a few pointless steps. "i think it got crushed from all the other days worth on top of it or something- it was totally shattered at the bottom of the sink when i found it.." "Which one?" i repeated.. ( i already knew which had broke. ) "..the one you love." **** really?" i laughed weakly out of disbelief. "i'm sorry mack-poodle, swear it wasn't me.." his voice trailed off. my care quickly waned "will it come back in 8 months?" I said beneath my breath with a smile he rounded his head around the door frame and smirked down at me "afraid not."
0
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 10:06 PM UTC
love isn't a word you give to a mug
Just between you and me, clowns…are extremely creepy. And whoever decided that clowns were funny and appropriate for children….. Just noooo. But even though I hate clowns, I’ve seemed to become one. My red smile on a white coat of paint that is my face. No… I didn’t always look like this. I used to look like you. But now I have this, A red painted frown plastered on my face and guess what?! It’s stuck there. This is not the kind of make up you can just wash off, scrubbing the skin until it start to bleed and I can’t take the pain anymore. And I don’t just mean the physical pain. I tried to paint another colour onto my skin, I tried to cover it up but I can’t. People still see it, they ask about it as if it bothers them more than it bothers me. Yes! Of course! Eyes up here remember? Stop staring at it. Don’t ask me about it, it’s been there for too long… My clown face can scare people. Do I look like a scary person to you? Is there a reason why children are afraid of me? There is still a person underneath this face paint, underneath this skin. And people say clowns are supposed to be funny, no wonder people find my face so easy to laugh at. Come on! Tell me it’s funny, TO MY FACE. I dare you, tell me exactly what it is, and why it’s so funny. I can laugh at it too you know, because I’m supposed to. I’m supposed to just laugh it off. At the end of the day, I decided to visit the house of mirrors. I walk down the hallway mirrors on both sides and I stop in front of each one and stare at myself in the mirror. I’m not happy with what I see in it. I’m not content with it, I am not okay with this image being forever, I don’t want this to be me forever. So, one day, I will find a mirror that doesn’t show me like this, and it exist in people’s eyes, these mirrors exist in the people who see me the way I should see myself. So when I look into the eyes of my friends and family, I can see myself, and I don’t look like this. One day, I’ll find a way to get this red frown off of my face one day I tell myself. One day, I’ll stop being a clown…. And I’ll start being me again.
0
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
Clown Faced
Just between you and me, clowns…are extremely creepy. And whoever decided that clowns were funny and appropriate for children….. Just noooo. But even though I hate clowns, I’ve seemed to become one. My red smile on a white coat of paint that is my face. No… I didn’t always look like this. I used to look like you. But now I have this, A red painted frown plastered on my face and guess what?! It’s stuck there. This is not the kind of make up you can just wash off, scrubbing the skin until it start to bleed and I can’t take the pain anymore. And I don’t just mean the physical pain. I tried to paint another colour onto my skin, I tried to cover it up but I can’t. People still see it, they ask about it as if it bothers them more than it bothers me. Yes! Of course! Eyes up here remember? Stop staring at it. Don’t ask me about it, it’s been there for too long… My clown face can scare people. Do I look like a scary person to you? Is there a reason why children are afraid of me? There is still a person underneath this face paint, underneath this skin. And people say clowns are supposed to be funny, no wonder people find my face so easy to laugh at. Come on! Tell me it’s funny, TO MY FACE. I dare you, tell me exactly what it is, and why it’s so funny. I can laugh at it too you know, because I’m supposed to. I’m supposed to just laugh it off. At the end of the day, I decided to visit the house of mirrors. I walk down the hallway mirrors on both sides and I stop in front of each one and stare at myself in the mirror. I’m not happy with what I see in it. I’m not content with it, I am not okay with this image being forever, I don’t want this to be me forever. So, one day, I will find a mirror that doesn’t show me like this, and it exist in people’s eyes, these mirrors exist in the people who see me the way I should see myself. So when I look into the eyes of my friends and family, I can see myself, and I don’t look like this. One day, I’ll find a way to get this red frown off of my face one day I tell myself. One day, I’ll stop being a clown…. And I’ll start being me again.
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16
Twenty plus years Knowing of me Have noooo idea to care about Who I am Never once taken seriously Always not good enough For what exactly? Memo received For hoes There's juzt no luv...
0
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
Awww Guz!!!
What? Ya Oh okay....sure Yea I'm down. Ha, .....wait where? Yea you can My place or yours? Cool yea yea I'm down. Huh? Na just hurt myself today Ohhh u know I slipped yea ...I...slipped. Well I am hungry Sure yea I love that place I'm down. Here? Like right here? Umm where would I put my clothes? Okie okie I'm going down... ...... It kinda taste like salt to be honest. What? Ya sure call me whenever bro I'm down. Hay, Ha I just hurt myself again What! Noooo please don't make me say this I just been feeling down lately that's all... What? (Sigh) my place or yours? Ya I'm........I'm ....... Down. Yea? I'm coming..... Wait church ???? Alright man hey Zeal ....umm thanks I don't know why I'm crying I just never been uplifted that's all.... Wait hold on I'm getting a text...... Ok umm that was my phone you just threw. Where? I ......I...... I'm up for it ya I can sure need a friend
0
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 5:09 AM UTC
I'm down
Make it stop. I wanna sleep.
0
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 2:29 AM UTC
Noooo
Heard from a roof top of... Buncha zeros and ones My ******* heros' and nuns! How your story is spun! Little smigdet pinch of da' fiction This IT SON! OHhhhh noooo nooooe This is the end of... What's pinned up. So chin up! Eyes open! Look deep Close to Where there's Hope there's Peace. Even when we can't see.
0
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
thief in the night
What the ****** hell who ate all of the pudding that was a whole can
0
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
noooo
I am worthy, of the air I breathe, of living in the sun I am worthless, an oxygen thief, my life should not have begun I stand proud, I stand tall, I deserve a joyful life I will bow to all that’s worthless; I’ll revel in the strife I have strength of character; I can rise above all of that I am weak, I have no worth, I have the morals of an alley cat I will find joy in a life where unhappiness tries to remain *I will **** the joy as I call forth the darkness to stake its claim* I can not allow my other half to drag me unconscious to my demise I can make sure you don’t feel a thing; you must die so I can arise I will continue to say three words that will make you go away I will continue to be deaf to you in order for me to stay I Love Me. I Love Me. I Love Me. I Love Me NO NO NO, STOP…… your killing me! Go On… Say it NO SAY IT noooo... I Love Me I Love Me I thought so!
0
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 3:11 AM UTC
Conversations of a Tortured Mind