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Mercury Chap Dec 2014
Falling in love, a pain
Wanting to love, a pain
Being in love, a pain
So I run.

Loving an outcaste, a shame
Helping an outcaste, a shame
Being an outcaste, a shame
So I hide.

Doing something for ourselves, selfishness
Staying happy for ourselves, selfishness
Raising voice for ourselves, selfishness
So I stay quite.
Styles Dec 2014
On a trip to never-never- land.
the glass ceiling and bottomless plan
I'll never ever land.
Its all part of plan B, by the man,
My sound scans, in never-ever- land.
Never heard by another man.
Gave up on the game - now its
starting to show, on the other hand.
I got doubts, so I dream even more.
These odds against me - I never no
Praying to god, the only time I fold.
A real man, never overplaying my hand.
Bringing more to the table than a brand.
That's just the way it goes,
can’t help how the cards land,
let the facts show.
Time heals everything,
scars let it be shown. You,
let it be known.
The logos, go hand in hand
Two faces – four tone
I’m a standup guy,
On rocky land
Headed home.
First in my class,
last in my caste,
finishing last
now I’m king of the throne.
Kendall Mallon Mar 2013
He envisions the Machine as a large locomotive
Of a deep, tainted, black metal chugging down and infinite track
The eternally glowing red hot coals pushing the pistons
A giant crimson cowcatcher is fixed at the front
Scraping up followers; forcing them into the vehicle
Manipulating Its passengers to smash their heads into the Machine
Welding their minds into Its mysterious black metal walls

Stained with the blood of many who have tried to resist
Ultimately wounded, maimed, outcaste from society
Forever marked, branded by the scars of their attempt
When the Machine has used you and-or your mind to Its purose
It shoves you into Its furnace—keeping the pistons turning
The Machine cannot be stopped—always picking up followers
Forcing you into It; becoming one with the Machine

As He looks into the engine room, there is no conductor
A runaway locomotive chugging down the track with no end
Its only goal: gathering as many passengers as possible
Society, Washington, the Media built the machine
Their brainchild, but have long since become a part of It
Their minds welded the deepest—becoming the foundation of Its walls
Long ago abandoning their carcasses to fuel their mighty creation
Because I'm scared, and, I guess
I have a lot of shame
And fear of shame
Which is sometimes worse
Because the only thing you can do about it
Is somehow stop being afraid
And how in the world do you stop being afraid?
Especially of something like shame
Shame is a fear
A fear of rejection
A fear of making mistakes
A fear of your true, self-centered soul being bared to mankind
You're afraid to be opened wide
Before the audience
All who watch you
You believe that if they ever saw the person you are on the inside
When you're alone
At your worst
When you're a failure at best
And outcaste at worst
Because they would!
They would scorn your soul!
No! No! Nothing but perfection can stand here!
You are horrible and we cannot tolerate anything but crystal
Pure and undefiled
Never messing up
Never admitting defeat
That's what you fear
You're afraid that they would denounce you
But you can't see
Well, why should you
That you are not alone
This masquerade invited everyone
And sadly, everyone came
There's truth waiting in the shadows
If you know to call its name
Wait for the calling!
Where we all rip off our masks
Proud as we are human
Prone to make mistakes.
You have to let go of fearing
That you won't measure up
'Cause hey, join the club, we've got t-shirts
That say, “Cover me with His love”.
Shame is your slavemaster, you know it
You are bound by its fear and its hate
So break your bonds of imperfection
Live your life before it is too late.
Michael Marchese Jan 2018
Finish your thought
And I’ll tell you the problem
It’s shitholes still saying
This nation is great
When there’s so much more human
We have on our plate
Merely trends gender spenders
In ongoing races
To get to the bottom
Of cash system’s classroom
Outcaste standard test
Makes a mess of the cost of care
Valued at less
Than a greeting card, chocolate box life
Kind of rose
When it paints way more senses  
To feel the red prose
So keep toying with nukes
Like your insolent children
I play with the matches of infinite wisdom
As self-absorbed saviors of lovers unhappy
Pretend that they know what “in sickness” could mean
Why define “My Immortal” American dream
When I know you ain’t seen every scene on the screen that I’ve seen
But you know I believe that we both like the show
So keep watching the clock go right out the window
And go head over Helios, stop and then think
As you drink in addictions they’re making you sync
And then spill ‘em in history’s permanent ink
nivek Nov 2018
conform or die
be expelled from the living

outcaste

unacceptable free thought

no room here for
you.

Ok so I am alien
alien to all this living.
between incontinence and constipation

Irritable bowel syndrome i.e.
the former excretory bout I address
the above (polite way to phrase diarrhea)
and avoid moon efficient cheekiness,
yours truly doth buttress,
a literal warranted pain in ***,
diametrically up poses,
and disinvites loving caress,
nevertheless yours truly
experienced gastrointestinal distress

countless times experienced ****** duress,
when anticipatory anxiety triggered excess
indomitable heavenly gorgeous fortress
mandating visits to the porcelain goddess
else.. heavily soiled underwear
necessitating by George thoroughly good
scouring utilizing heavy duty gloves
nsync accessing generations
old washboard and handpress.

Nowadays more often than not,
I suffer incapacity to whoop
and holler at healthy excretory
system (of the down), but troop
hunkered over (think
Hunchback of Notre Dame)
at ground zero smack dab dagnabbit,
where birds of prey swoop

doubled over in agonizing pain
believe me you, this fickle fella
experiences excruciating difficulty to ****
mein life passes before third eye blind
and joie de vivre to exclaim L'Chaim
takes kamikaze nosedive and ability
to savor existence significantly doth droop.

Nevertheless alleviation when at long last affright
dying upon commode,
when colorectal **** orifice obstruction airtight
cursing posterior dire straits regarding
(you bet your bottom dollar)
occasions behind stricken with blight
worse fate than losing cocked cat fight
malfunctioning ****** scenario analogous

loosing life versus death dogfight
plummeting at warp speed
within psychedelic atmospheric Earthlight
recognizing demise (mine)
on par jeopardizing ability,
cuz jammed alimentary canal
disallows lightening payload Humpty dump
(Thoreau Lee walled din)
and doomed as endangered bumblebee's flight
and snuffed out as quaint sputtering gaslight
era when commercial gas became available in

early 19th century in Europe and America...
see - https://www.thespruce.com/
the-gaslight-era-2175011
to glean at least one more highlight
though gaining such spruced insight
contributes no more or less than jacklight
neither rhyme nor reason why
wily prevaricating good knight
informs ye to understand might

of Matthew Scott Harris this night
(April 27, 2020) no longer fraught
regarding his sorely overtaxed sphincter
he heromin vouchsafed and wooly vowed
to accept unconditional surrender
of body dysmorphia (mine) plight
resolved swallowing bleach
(a purgative he trumpets)
to eternally lived in peace quite.

Time and again liquified human waste
i.e. loose stools (mine)
flushing bowels unchased
down toilet shunted off to treatment plant
thick sludge consistency of (crust) toothpaste
repurposed for commercial
and individual use posthaste,

especially every resident of
Lake Woebegone Poker Flat outcaste,
who as token scapegoats
(no kidding) suffer tsoris
bullies unrelenting lambaste
harbor loathing, albeit strong distaste
towards those persons deemed
undeserving comprise untouchable caste.
PROVE

Deep down somewhere, I certainly know you exist ;

But asking You question this, I cannot today resist.

That's why Your answer I want; n to get Your reply, I insist.

When You made this world, did You wish happiness n peace ?

Or did You wish Your children to be in pain, anxiety n live in pieces ?

When will peace envelope the world n evil be destroyed or cease ?

How long and why should these difficulties n tensions last ?

Why can't You, this wicked Ahremaan destroy or outcaste ?

Good people, about their future are fearful, anxious n aghast !

Armin Dutia Motashaw

— The End —