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"overestimated" poems
I couldn't let him always have the last word Watching as people died and killed in the name of his holy Lord Who cares what happens to those humans? But I couldn't let it go I broke away from his pasture Covered myself in ash Was discarded out of the Holy Land And became my own God Being the black sheep casted away from Heaven I learned what it truly was to be broken Building myself up to put a stop to these Commandments and scriptures set in stone I overestimated the humans They ran amuck with every power I lent Turning my idea of love into lust, Enjoyment into gluttony and greed, Sloth, pride, envy Everything I tried turned into another Deadly sin Now my name is said in destruction Evil is a synonym to my existence I guess I don't mind as long as things aren't mundane Isn't this what I wanted? Always a figure to blame, These humans have taught me to not trust, Have hope in anybody, And how to go insane
0
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
Devil
I must be blessed, Surrounded by benevolent spirits, Guarded by angels, Watched by my ancestors before me. This life cannot have been the first time we’ve met. Some never find, What we have discovered in each other. We are a four leaf clover, A needle in a haystack, A rare and precious taonga, A treasured gift. We are perfect, Immaculate. In you I find a comfort, That sometimes wanders from myself, You are my closest companion, and I learn so much From the way that you are. We are sisters, Blood is irrelevant. We are weird sisters, Queer witchy feminists, Living by self-developed norms, Rather than societal, The value of which cannot be overestimated. Together we cannot be held back. We are perfect, Immaculate. I will float with you In our next life also.
0
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 4:30 AM UTC
Weird Sisters
Darkness slowly invades my body, Ridding me of all emotion; Blinding and deafening me, It’s being as vast as an ocean. Screaming for mercy, But my pleas suffocated; The darkness becomes a part of me, Its power I overestimated. Panic finally sets in, With nothing visible in sight; All I pray for is redemption, From darkness’ unending might. I float away gracefully, Dark waters welcoming my soul; The flame within now purged, In a darkness as black as kohl.
0
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
Distress
YOU overestimated the strength of this foundation this home was made of paper - 3 years of hot glue and worn fingers, finally we had a bedroom, a living space with fall came the rain day and night, downpour sign number one the flood was coming - puddles appeared in the grass and i tried fixing it with my cupped hands silently pleading that the neighbors look away while i was on my knees you rushed around with a bucket of paint, the grass must be green the grass must be green, your shirt must be tucked, i must crack a joke when your family shows it was still raining and everyone else realized what was happening my mother called, "please just leave. your skin is greying get out of the rain." You slept through the thunder, a crack appeared here and there and the floorboards shook Our arguments leaked through the cracks And the screams dripped down the walls during dinner it suddenly became all too much the windows popped, one by one, starting in the basement you thought if you locked the doors the water would stay out if we stayed in the covers we would be dry if i stayed naked we'd be fine but i'm cold i'm cold and it's still raining the windows kept popping and you ran to replace them but water and glass overtook you shards in your back, shards in your hands please don't touch me don't grab me don't hold my face rain water filling your lungs - pouring from your mouth you screamed apologies and tried to hold me don't kiss me i can't breathe please don't kiss me don't the water was only up to your shoulders but you were drowning just swim, you idiot, make an effort to stay afloat i have this raft made of my skin and yes there is a scar there and a burn to the left but it can hold us we climbed back into bed instead, completely submerged you held me tightly as i welcomed the rain into my lungs and with the glass in your hands slowly slicing my skin I apologized And felt the roof land on my spine
0
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
fall flood
YOU overestimated the strength of this foundation this home was made of paper - 3 years of hot glue and worn fingers, finally we had a bedroom, a living space with fall came the rain day and night, downpour sign number one the flood was coming - puddles appeared in the grass and i tried fixing it with my cupped hands silently pleading that the neighbors look away while i was on my knees you rushed around with a bucket of paint, the grass must be green the grass must be green, your shirt must be tucked, i must crack a joke when your family shows it was still raining and everyone else realized what was happening my mother called, "please just leave. your skin is greying get out of the rain." You slept through the thunder, a crack appeared here and there and the floorboards shook Our arguments leaked through the cracks And the screams dripped down the walls during dinner it suddenly became all too much the windows popped, one by one, starting in the basement you thought if you locked the doors the water would stay out if we stayed in the covers we would be dry if i stayed naked we'd be fine but i'm cold i'm cold and it's still raining the windows kept popping and you ran to replace them but water and glass overtook you shards in your back, shards in your hands please don't touch me don't grab me don't hold my face rain water filling your lungs - pouring from your mouth you screamed apologies and tried to hold me don't kiss me i can't breathe please don't kiss me don't the water was only up to your shoulders but you were drowning just swim, you idiot, make an effort to stay afloat i have this raft made of my skin and yes there is a scar there and a burn to the left but it can hold us we climbed back into bed instead, completely submerged you held me tightly as i welcomed the rain into my lungs and with the glass in your hands slowly slicing my skin I apologized And felt the roof land on my spine
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44
Everything is overestimated Love is blind to your pain Happiness is fleeting Fear is a wall people hide behind Everything is an obstacle In your self-righteous path The games they're obsessed with Are to you a mere distraction From the boredom of your existence He's the exception He makes you feel painless He is the candle in the dark room That is your soul He is the lifeboat that keeps you From drowning in your thoughts He is the cactus in the flower killing Desert that is your mind So if you don't care about anything Enough to hate it And everything is overestimated He is nothing This must be nothing And nothing lasts forever.
0
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 1:05 PM UTC
Nothing lasts forever
There is this moment in the morning, this short, sweet period of time where you haven’t yet woken up but aren’t really asleep. Where your memories have not come crashing down on you like a thunderstorm yet and you can fool yourself for a few seconds. It is at this time where I forget that you no longer love me. It is at this time where my heart feels safe. It is at this time where in my mind I am still your sky and you are still my stars. I want to live in that time. I remember once, before everything got so messed up, I looked into your eyes and thought **** you have never loved a hurricane before. I am going to break your heart.” You broke mine. I overestimated myself and underestimated you. You are the hurricane, the Milky Way that is scattered across your pale silky skin shines brighter than I ever could. And although I always refer to myself as fire I have forgotten what it feels like to be burnt to the ground.
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
Morning Goodbyes
Days flash past my shadow Unable to distinguish your face. Missing someone is overestimated An individual can't be missed But how you felt in his presence Will subsist. Love conquers as endless matter Thus exposing your heart is key, For a new world to perceive. An unknown yet familiar ardor rushes through my veins, I thence forsee you're present but somehow Gone away. Humankind around neglected you Trust is reasonably locked into your gut Disowning is no option, Neither patronizing you; Been there myself. Dark nights Dark thoughts; Disoriented your head, But reincarneted who you are today. Don't contemplate there is no better. Stand high on your feet, Drown yourself on memories That once made you Complete. Perhaps I'll never be your future, Perhaps my existence to you is nonsense. Straightforwardly; Merely knowing you're no longer lost, Will be my cue for moving on.
0
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
For Him (1/4)
to never know when I'm going to stop. each new girl topples out over the last, already midway into her own ******** her own catastrophe. to be out of control. to be constantly out of context. to live once or twice removed. to see kaleidoscopes in every drawn eyelid. to deal with the repercussions of the Other's actions. to only feel Whole with eyes closed & voice in hallelujahs. to hate being used, yet need it, crave it for the feeling of being wanted. to have sound hallucinations. to feel empty chronically. to feel emotions suddenly turn off. to rattle & shake under the lightest of pressures & thrive in chaos. to be distracted into dysfunction. to love. to love everyone except me(s). to mark my body with insults. to rack my mind with misgivings. to never be understood & to always be overestimated. -- but to love. to always be humble. to always see others before self. to understand other's pain. to have so many bad memories, thus revel in every good one. to live in the emotional gutter then feel euphoric when crawling on level ground. to know that normal can never become extraordinary. to blow minds often, feel **** in my own skin. to be open to unexplored territory. to love often, powerfully, uncontrolled, chronic overflowed rivers, oceans of oscillating passions. to see kaleidoscopes in every drawn lid & know that others will never be mesmerized by the odd beauty i find ordinary. to close my eyes & raise my voice. hallelujah. hallelujah.
0
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
which truth is masquerading?
i’m tired of not loving you. i’m tired of the dry fluorescent lights illuminating not everything but almost everything just enough to make me think i see it all. i’m tired of waiting for the stones i sent skipping across the water to come back i’m tired of sinking with them. i’m tired of noticing that snow during spring is warmer than i am i’m tired of complaining and then being scared of what you think of my complaining. i’m tired of stitching puzzle pieces into patterns that don’t make sense just so i can ask you about them i’m tired of trying to hang paintings on bare white walls and thinking i’m the problem when it doesn’t stick. i’m tired of being overestimated even when i know what i’m doing i’m tired of falling in love just because you’re kind to me i’m tired of not loving you but i’m tired of not loving me more.
0
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 1:56 AM UTC
one percent ish
time heals all wounds and i overestimated the process as a straight progression of burn to scar but i don't feel stronger bruised, stuck messy fleshy **** up hurts to touch trauma reopened and stitches split some days gashes slashes rips some days smooth skin i want to get over it
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
men don't protect you anymore
I get scared that I don't do much, and I get scared when strangers yell at or touch me. I get scared of whizzing cars that go so fast that they'd turn me into pulp and broken bones under the weight of their axels because I'm afraid of broken bones and of falling. I'm scared of being a coward and of sullying or destroying my integrity. I'm afraid of people--especially boys--and how and why they make me feel because it seems I either care too much or not enough, and I get scared of both. I get scared and mean when they say nice things to me since I'm not very nice to myself. I get the jitters when they talk to me and I get scared because I feel and act dumb. I'm scared of being stupid and I'm scared of being overestimated. I'm scared of apathy, and I'm frightened by the willful ignorance that exists everywhere. Most of all, I'm afraid of causing others unnecessary suffering. I want to be better, I sincerely do. It is just all very frightening sometimes.
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
spiny thing
I greet the night, chasing after your profile left only in my revolving memories, You said, “I can’t be there for you.” when you left me but the tears embracing your cheeks couldn’t comfort me Every time you felt like you’d be swallowed up in the waves of contradiction and expectations, you always held back your tears, you know? “What a strong,pure person”, they said, but everyone overestimated you and before you knew it you lost sight of who you really are Then the sun I thought would always be near me collapsed and the light shut off Rubbing out the truths and the lies of one day, altogether I greet the morning still, ironically, chasing after your shadow in my revolving dreams.
0
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 6:09 PM UTC
Greets to the Night
Understand Why do you not understand Who I am How I feel What I do? Bridge Crossing the river The flowing river The hasty river The shallow river You You are on the other side I need help to Cross the river Cross the bridge Cross my heart I reach you on the other side I reach out to you You run away You disappear You vanish Why are you gone? What did I do? Do you understand I miss you? I have underestimated you You have overestimated me You deserve better I deserve no one I crossed the bridge to get to you And you left me alone In the Woods of Life To die.
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 9:44 AM UTC
Crossing Bridges
I found the two-headed baby deer dying on a bed of soft pine needles under cover of an overturned oak, not five kilometres from my cottage, Its lungs still pumped, Its crimson heart beat weakly through a thin, translucent skin, that decayed before my eyes, until there was no skin, and all the organs lay warm and still, in a heap upon the earth, like waste. A god evaporated. It is human nature to disbelieve that one may be witness to epochal events, so I did not believe that I, of all people, should be witness to the death of time. Epochal: the concept itself is dead. How lucky we were to know time at its cleanest, and most linear! We know now that such constant linearity was the consequence of a living entity, It followed the creature like stench follows a skunk, and we basked in it as if it was the natural state of the world. No more. Time no longer heals, Things do not pass, Or pass only to return. At first we believed this would be manageable, Yes, we thought, we will relive our pain but also our love, Everything shall be magnified! Welcome to an age of great emotions, a new Romanticism! Yet we overestimated how much we help, failed to accept how much we hurt. And we did not realize the nature of evil, which accumulates in a way love does not, To re-experience our love is to know it, again and again, at the same intensity, but to re-experience pain is to increase its volume until it overpowers us, deafening us to everything else. I will never forget the creature's eyes, full of hatred or hubris, yet seeking aid it knew I could not give. How does one save a dying god? It was not my fault! I was but a child asked suddenly to solve a deathbed equation expressed in an undiscovered mathematics, I had to fail, yet in failing I have brought it all upon us. I relive it constantly, Every time its eyes are louder. But it is the hour for my afternoon walk, so I will take a pause and enjoy what remains of living. I will go to my favourite spot overlooking the city, and sit on the iron bench, from where the view is magnificent, Above me, the clouds will form, a tangle of pain and human corpses, and I will sit and ponder until the first blood drops fall, Then the screaming will begin, the final storm will rage, Beating, crimson corpse-clouds under a thin skin of dissipating reality, raining blood until we are left warm and still upon the earth.
0
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 1:38 PM UTC
Terminus
I found the two-headed baby deer dying on a bed of soft pine needles under cover of an overturned oak, not five kilometres from my cottage, Its lungs still pumped, Its crimson heart beat weakly through a thin, translucent skin, that decayed before my eyes, until there was no skin, and all the organs lay warm and still, in a heap upon the earth, like waste. A god evaporated. It is human nature to disbelieve that one may be witness to epochal events, so I did not believe that I, of all people, should be witness to the death of time. Epochal: the concept itself is dead. How lucky we were to know time at its cleanest, and most linear! We know now that such constant linearity was the consequence of a living entity, It followed the creature like stench follows a skunk, and we basked in it as if it was the natural state of the world. No more. Time no longer heals, Things do not pass, Or pass only to return. At first we believed this would be manageable, Yes, we thought, we will relive our pain but also our love, Everything shall be magnified! Welcome to an age of great emotions, a new Romanticism! Yet we overestimated how much we help, failed to accept how much we hurt. And we did not realize the nature of evil, which accumulates in a way love does not, To re-experience our love is to know it, again and again, at the same intensity, but to re-experience pain is to increase its volume until it overpowers us, deafening us to everything else. I will never forget the creature's eyes, full of hatred or hubris, yet seeking aid it knew I could not give. How does one save a dying god? It was not my fault! I was but a child asked suddenly to solve a deathbed equation expressed in an undiscovered mathematics, I had to fail, yet in failing I have brought it all upon us. I relive it constantly, Every time its eyes are louder. But it is the hour for my afternoon walk, so I will take a pause and enjoy what remains of living. I will go to my favourite spot overlooking the city, and sit on the iron bench, from where the view is magnificent, Above me, the clouds will form, a tangle of pain and human corpses, and I will sit and ponder until the first blood drops fall, Then the screaming will begin, the final storm will rage, Beating, crimson corpse-clouds under a thin skin of dissipating reality, raining blood until we are left warm and still upon the earth.
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70
I know it was silly of me to actually let you lead me to believe I deserved a girl like you you overestimated me I led you to think I could handle your wiles That I accepted them floating through life with a smirk and I did for awhile learning to play the **** I just thought I met another feral animal My only problem is you kept coming back you kept coming back coming back back. . . back. Why? Or leave for that matter? Did I not bite your neck hard enough, was my pebble too coarse? Were my colors too dull? Did my stance lack aggression? I gave you every chance in the world to run free into the wilderness the Arctic but you always went back to your Zoo didnt you? Why? You know why I love you? The honest truth. . . your beauty is for another ******* poem it was because you were the only with the intelligence to know not to come back but you always did. Even when it wasnt how I wished it to be I always knew you would come back and I guess this is supposed to tie into penguins and wolves or some ****
0
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
Penguins and Wolves
You. you have betrayed me and underestimated me and overestimated me and hurt me and abused me and took me for granted and hated me and laughed at me and tempted me and taunted me and shut me out and hidden me and drowned me and suffocated me and wronged me. What you don't know, my idiot friend, is that you are loved. You are getting all that you deserve. You receive what you put out. If you want happiness, therefore, all you need to do is put it out for everyone else to grab. If you want love, love everyone and everything. If you want trust, give it. The more you give, the more you receive.
0
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 11:48 PM UTC
A Letter to Myself
Angels sing in celebration while I lose my mind Where are you, my love? I can barely see through this raging storm of snow and anxiety My passion keeps me warm while I search for you Why did you do it? I had everything you needed Though it seems I overestimated the dosage of love that you needed You just weren’t ready Come home I’m terrified I miss you You couldn’t handle the world and there’s no way you can now Not with what I’ve done to you You need me
0
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 9:57 PM UTC
Coercive Caretaker
I genuinely believe That God only puts us through What we can handle But then again I also believe That He has overestimated My strength Or mistaken me For someone stronger
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Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 11:06 AM UTC
God
I looked into myself one day, like I never looked before, and I realized that what I have inside: I don't want it anymore! All these weaknesses, this is not who I want to be; this is not even how other people see me.... I thought I was stronger, I thought I was smarter, I saw myself braver, better than I was, I overestimated myself, I guess I just need a pause. The door to my soul is open, it just doesn't close, maybe all of this is from a sadness overdose. What I have inside, I need to clean it out; tried to do it alone, but it just wouldn't let go; all the problems in me just keep saying no! We won't go! Now, I still got my faults, I still have my flaws, but I also disappointed myself; I couldn't keep my own laws... Refrain, restrain, all things are in vain.  I thought I could do it, but I had to learn the hard way, only God can save me: there is no other way; you can improve yourself, sure, you can get better, but there will be a time when you'll be caught off guard, later, when your not ready, or when your tired, who will hold you up then, someone you admired? Anyone will criticize, anyone can point, but who will stop to help, who won't disappoint? Only Jesus can help you, only He can set you free,  from the struggles inside, from all of which you flee, and no matter what, to Him you can always go, if you need help, you can always ask, and the truth will set you free, free from your own mask, and your lies, you won't need them anymore, cause on wings of truth you'll soar, and when you'll need to stand, you can stand tall, on a mountain of truth from which you can never fall.  Now in Him I can improve, in Him I can grow, because He forgave my sins, He made them go, no, I don't have to worry, about my destiny, he gave me peace, he made me worry-free. I forgot it for a bit, forgot the way to the light, I forgot that He saved me long ago, saved me with His might. There is nothing here for me, nothing more to see, so I'm on my way now, to become forever free.
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Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 10:44 AM UTC
Cleaning out my heart (long)
I looked into myself one day, like I never looked before, and I realized that what I have inside: I don't want it anymore! All these weaknesses, this is not who I want to be; this is not even how other people see me.... I thought I was stronger, I thought I was smarter, I saw myself braver, better than I was, I overestimated myself, I guess I just need a pause. The door to my soul is open, it just doesn't close, maybe all of this is from a sadness overdose. What I have inside, I need to clean it out; tried to do it alone, but it just wouldn't let go; all the problems in me just keep saying no! We won't go! Now, I still got my faults, I still have my flaws, but I also disappointed myself; I couldn't keep my own laws... Refrain, restrain, all things are in vain.  I thought I could do it, but I had to learn the hard way, only God can save me: there is no other way; you can improve yourself, sure, you can get better, but there will be a time when you'll be caught off guard, later, when your not ready, or when your tired, who will hold you up then, someone you admired? Anyone will criticize, anyone can point, but who will stop to help, who won't disappoint? Only Jesus can help you, only He can set you free,  from the struggles inside, from all of which you flee, and no matter what, to Him you can always go, if you need help, you can always ask, and the truth will set you free, free from your own mask, and your lies, you won't need them anymore, cause on wings of truth you'll soar, and when you'll need to stand, you can stand tall, on a mountain of truth from which you can never fall.  Now in Him I can improve, in Him I can grow, because He forgave my sins, He made them go, no, I don't have to worry, about my destiny, he gave me peace, he made me worry-free. I forgot it for a bit, forgot the way to the light, I forgot that He saved me long ago, saved me with His might. There is nothing here for me, nothing more to see, so I'm on my way now, to become forever free.
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40
I infer they overestimated the ships foundation, eager to set sail The world really puts a weight on people to go follow a certain path Unfortunately, they were at mutiny since the day they departed They had high hopes to flourish, but we all know you can't predict the seas, only the moon can I'd say when I was born the ship had already been sinking, but it was long before they felt the water coming through the cracks I've always kept my head so high in the clouds that my naive but determined hopes kept us a sail through every weather When a sinking ship sails through rough shores for the sole purpose of getting you where you need to go, it creates some type of complex Definitely a resentment of the rough seas that lacked the passive self-control you've grown to practice, but also a deep gratitude for the days no-one hopped on a life-boat and turned their back I've seen more animosity than tranquility, but I've also seen that people spend decades drowning out of love I've learned that maybe sometimes people could be better off calling quits on what is definitively irreparable, so much pain can be avoided But I never falter my peace with regrets It's hard to know when someone is on a sinking ship, because it grows to feel normal for them When water sinks in, you move to higher ground When people notice and you feel their pity it feels wrong, You're okay, you've adapted and you're better for it Born on a sinking ship, I'll still call it home Like a true captain I'll stand with who and what I believe in till the bitter end, yet I'll always keep my head above the water So thank you to the rough seas that raised me It was nature's chaos that bred my inner serenity
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Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 2:21 PM UTC
Sinking Ship
I infer they overestimated the ships foundation, eager to set sail The world really puts a weight on people to go follow a certain path Unfortunately, they were at mutiny since the day they departed They had high hopes to flourish, but we all know you can't predict the seas, only the moon can I'd say when I was born the ship had already been sinking, but it was long before they felt the water coming through the cracks I've always kept my head so high in the clouds that my naive but determined hopes kept us a sail through every weather When a sinking ship sails through rough shores for the sole purpose of getting you where you need to go, it creates some type of complex Definitely a resentment of the rough seas that lacked the passive self-control you've grown to practice, but also a deep gratitude for the days no-one hopped on a life-boat and turned their back I've seen more animosity than tranquility, but I've also seen that people spend decades drowning out of love I've learned that maybe sometimes people could be better off calling quits on what is definitively irreparable, so much pain can be avoided But I never falter my peace with regrets It's hard to know when someone is on a sinking ship, because it grows to feel normal for them When water sinks in, you move to higher ground When people notice and you feel their pity it feels wrong, You're okay, you've adapted and you're better for it Born on a sinking ship, I'll still call it home Like a true captain I'll stand with who and what I believe in till the bitter end, yet I'll always keep my head above the water So thank you to the rough seas that raised me It was nature's chaos that bred my inner serenity
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19
They say "You gotta pay to play"     Finding that's too true ******* ten ways from Sunday No clue what I should do Learning I can't maintain I WAS in control Overestimated brain Habit swallowing me whole Panic stricken voice Gait leading to and fro Haunted by one foolish choice This agony I owe I made the bed I am lying in It's time to say goodnight Afraid of darkness growing within Bring myself to turn out the light Cause and effect It is simple and plain Repeat the  same mistake once more Is it really a mistake If already made before?
0
May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 5:49 PM UTC
Pay Up
born in a world that has its back turned to you and is paying attention to people and things you see no worth in. so you shake your *** and do all sorts of things you can so you can get his overestimated interest: you crawl the wall you moan and cry and whimper you sing and dance you write about your misery you tell it how bad you feel but it only takes a few swift glances at you for you to realise that it is needed way more to get its attention than you are willing to give. so you take a hike light up a cigarette and sit wherever you want to allowing the world’s shit-stained eyes to behold the unimportance you take for others’ thoughts.
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Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 9:56 AM UTC
duncarin
To know life is both the greatest gift and curse The opportunity is overestimated in worth When, come the end, our brand of uselessness is realized We age, then sicken, then curl up to die. There's love untapped in the first meeting That withers and fades as the heart continues beating I would that intrigue would take me, send me reeling As intrigue has never been fickle or fleeting. There's not time enough for intrigue or awe As we've yet to comprehend how to live life at all We'd rather follow the steps worn into the ground Right into our coffins and six feet down. How routine kills; it's acceptable genocide How routine leads us, so sweetly, to die. How we exist in ignorance, cover our ears and eyes How we live in stupidity, the blind leading the blind. Ah, useless eyes and worthless tongue A world struck gray, a mouth struck dumb. Ah, treacherous mind and failing nose With nothing to smell, with nothing to know. May the generation realize the futility That put an end to you, an end to me Before life would shake them, they may leave With ears that hear and eyes that see.
0
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
With Ears That Hear and Eyes That See