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"overrules" poems
We live in a judgemental society Where the real you is only abstract. From a young age we are taught to believe That only society can define how you act. From the moment we enter the world We are forced to sign a contact. Torn away from freedom of opinion We begin our journey with no way back. Beauty overrules personality Money defines your future Being intelligent is a crime And standing out makes you a loser. The paths you choose to follow Always end the same. There is no way to escape society Because we all have been chained. People are ridiculed for being happy But called weak when sad. We dare not share our views For we’d be labelled as mad. We live in a judgemental society Where no one seems to win. Forced to be someone society defines, The real you fades within.
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Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 10:23 AM UTC
A Judgemental Society
I believe that fairy tales are just that: fairy tales. Magic doesn't exist, and of course imagination is just that: imagination. Something not real, an internalised, idealised creation. Happy ever afters, and Prince Charming hero's, are just a lovers fantasy notions. But we are there, You know, at that stage where Romeo is madly in love with...Rosaline. Those evil family relations surround us and a wicked stepmother who overrules. Girls everywhere are obsessed with being the fairest of them all, Eagerly anticipating a dark and handsome: Mr. Tall. Waiting on that fairy godmother to appear, but its already too late because the wolfs already had his dinner, and a sleeping beauty has yet to be kissed out of her nightmare.
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May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 6:36 AM UTC
Fantasy
This reoccurring nightmare overrules me deep in sleep Won’t wake me from my slumber, Imprisons me in this keep I try to run, I try to scream. This is my certainty Stuck in this bad dream There, all about me are these stone cold walls Over-protecting, so suspicious, untrusting … They guard my soul. Asking why are they so **** tall. Restricting my heart I’m bound. Powerless, I trail this authority What hope is there now? I pray in this frigid nightmare for the strength that I won’t break Eager to be released from this lonely place I’ll lie right here. My sanity they can’t take.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
Nightmare
By: Cedric McClester We're either a nation of cowards Or a nation of fools When our kids shelter in place Inside of their schools And our president breaks All of the rules And locks children in cages Which proves that he's cruel We're either a nation of cowards Or a nation of fools When criminals are pardoned As part of the tools That the president uses To protect his footstools Which he bandies about Like they were precious jewels We're either a nation of cowards Or a nation of fools Who proceed blindly Like a wagon train of mules Who are being driven By an assortment of ghouls Who push our buttons And change our molecules We're either a nation of cowards Or a nation of fools Who resist climate change And biofuels Those who mention them He simply overrules With little resistance From those he ridicules Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2019.  All rights reserved.
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Aug 9, 2019
Aug 9, 2019 at 10:52 PM UTC
A NATION OF COWARDS OR A NATION OF FOOLS
Almighty King! whose wondrous hand Supports the weight of sea and land; Whose grace is such a boundless store, No heart shall break that sighs for more. Thy providence supplies my food, And 'tis Thy blessing makes it good; My soul is nourish'd by Thy Word, Let soul and body praise the Lord! My streams of outward comfort came From Him who built this earthly frame; Whate'er I want His bounty gives, By whom my soul forever lives. Either His hand preserves from pain, Or, if I feel it, heals again; From Satan's malice shields my breast, Or overrules it for the best. Forgive the song that falls so low Beneath the gratitude I owe! It means Thy praise: however poor, An angel's song can do no more.
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1.2k
Grace and Providence
~ from the anthology of the unwritten, from the tombs of the stillborn, where carcasses of idled titles and orphaned stanzas do not compete for proof of life,   and nameless birth certificates unissued, yellowing and wasting midst crumbling aleph bet spawn here comes a poem of concession comes a poem of summation of a life lived, knotted poorly, not well, worse cursed as vanilla inadequate the satisfaction in the writing, the gleeful breaking of the sac, the gushing relief giving way to the childbirth of a new moon-poem, arrested, wrested a single plague affliction, the cancer of weakness, means Pharaoh wins the cancer of weakness no cure, no pharmaceutical poultice, spreads insidious; one day - pain in the remote, your big toe, then next you can only street stagger begging forgiveness and the kindness of strangers hoping for the accidental cure of touch, the miscellany lottery ticket probability of low chance the visible mark you leave, a weak indentation upon a pillow, it is the dented head, cut deep by the shadow, shake it out and you're a disappeared one, nothing to show,   did someone once sleep here? you were once upon a time binary a 1 now a 0 - flip flop bottom top, listening to Frank's "That's Life"^ my litany too long; woeful work this business of flailing, posting a tired-out self help love poem ain't no cure for the falling-out-of-love black and blue, self-inflicted bruising blues, the wrists ache the bones don't freak but squeal, somebody's squeezing me the alarm clock, a death knell, everyone saying don't worry   you got a proven record, the boss's eyes twinkling "but what have you done for me lately?" funny Death says Hey, aren't you the boss? Who shall over rule thy Dominion? What have thy done to yourself lately? Answer: never end a poem with a question mark @ 3:06am
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May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 3:16 AM UTC
Death's Dominion Overrules
~ from the anthology of the unwritten, from the tombs of the stillborn, where carcasses of idled titles and orphaned stanzas do not compete for proof of life,   and nameless birth certificates unissued, yellowing and wasting midst crumbling aleph bet spawn here comes a poem of concession comes a poem of summation of a life lived, knotted poorly, not well, worse cursed as vanilla inadequate the satisfaction in the writing, the gleeful breaking of the sac, the gushing relief giving way to the childbirth of a new moon-poem, arrested, wrested a single plague affliction, the cancer of weakness, means Pharaoh wins the cancer of weakness no cure, no pharmaceutical poultice, spreads insidious; one day - pain in the remote, your big toe, then next you can only street stagger begging forgiveness and the kindness of strangers hoping for the accidental cure of touch, the miscellany lottery ticket probability of low chance the visible mark you leave, a weak indentation upon a pillow, it is the dented head, cut deep by the shadow, shake it out and you're a disappeared one, nothing to show,   did someone once sleep here? you were once upon a time binary a 1 now a 0 - flip flop bottom top, listening to Frank's "That's Life"^ my litany too long; woeful work this business of flailing, posting a tired-out self help love poem ain't no cure for the falling-out-of-love black and blue, self-inflicted bruising blues, the wrists ache the bones don't freak but squeal, somebody's squeezing me the alarm clock, a death knell, everyone saying don't worry   you got a proven record, the boss's eyes twinkling "but what have you done for me lately?" funny Death says Hey, aren't you the boss? Who shall over rule thy Dominion? What have thy done to yourself lately? Answer: never end a poem with a question mark @ 3:06am
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62
By Arcassin B Slash, dangerous, Break in some glass, I'm your home, The tranquil place, the happy place, about to be drowned in blood, Fixing William Shatner mask, I carry my demons heavily on my shoulder, Provoking me, you would also be stupid to get close to me, The devil's messenger incarnate leaking through scared and drippy as I ascended the passage of evil, Be glad I didn't RIP out the pupils, I'm way worse than messily cabin fever, The one that snips Roses and tulips, Like chasing after a relative that doesn't think I exist, Letting them know that my legend lives, No dogs live to take a **** You could get the blade or the fist, Halloween is the day of bliss, A devil on a night like this, Wake to fulfill demon hour wish, Wake to fulfill demon hour wish, A devil on a night like this, Halloween is the day of bliss, You could get the blade or the fist. ● I could feel as good as I feel , when I, Let go, We could make this right in our wills, Feel free, I don't know, I don't know, The horrors that await you can not illustrate you, Their aiming to take this world from you, specifics when theres rent due, they would want to take you, No streets , cars or avenues, The hills definitely have eyes , we call them vultures, Infiltration in disguise, we are their adventures, A voyage , a play , a stage to be performed on, This life is too fake to hold on, Wool over the eyes of some , might as well put the mold on, I wouldn't leave you to dry and dye a different color of your love for me, positivity overrules this tree, Don't you ever think that I, don't love you cause I do, don't **** me, It would break my heart if you , thought i didn't care, don't eat me, Don't you ever think that I, don't love you cause I do, It would break my heart if you , thought i didn't care. ©abpoetry2020 ©arcassinburnham2020.
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Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 2:08 AM UTC
"M.M / HILLS DEFINITELY HAVE EYES"
By Arcassin B Slash, dangerous, Break in some glass, I'm your home, The tranquil place, the happy place, about to be drowned in blood, Fixing William Shatner mask, I carry my demons heavily on my shoulder, Provoking me, you would also be stupid to get close to me, The devil's messenger incarnate leaking through scared and drippy as I ascended the passage of evil, Be glad I didn't RIP out the pupils, I'm way worse than messily cabin fever, The one that snips Roses and tulips, Like chasing after a relative that doesn't think I exist, Letting them know that my legend lives, No dogs live to take a **** You could get the blade or the fist, Halloween is the day of bliss, A devil on a night like this, Wake to fulfill demon hour wish, Wake to fulfill demon hour wish, A devil on a night like this, Halloween is the day of bliss, You could get the blade or the fist. ● I could feel as good as I feel , when I, Let go, We could make this right in our wills, Feel free, I don't know, I don't know, The horrors that await you can not illustrate you, Their aiming to take this world from you, specifics when theres rent due, they would want to take you, No streets , cars or avenues, The hills definitely have eyes , we call them vultures, Infiltration in disguise, we are their adventures, A voyage , a play , a stage to be performed on, This life is too fake to hold on, Wool over the eyes of some , might as well put the mold on, I wouldn't leave you to dry and dye a different color of your love for me, positivity overrules this tree, Don't you ever think that I, don't love you cause I do, don't **** me, It would break my heart if you , thought i didn't care, don't eat me, Don't you ever think that I, don't love you cause I do, It would break my heart if you , thought i didn't care. ©abpoetry2020 ©arcassinburnham2020.
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47
Born are we in a world brimming with chaos and unrest, Where slave trade is no surprise, The cries of our fellow comrades go unheard, This cannot go on any longer, Destruction overrules our constitution. Every human deserves a chance, To live a life that is filled with joy and gaiety, Those are the rights that the Lord gifted them, And no other human has any right to revoke them. Are humans so hostile, That they don't care about others' suffering and pain, Has the thorn in your flesh stabbed your heart for too long? That the emotion is leaving you, that you no longer care? If you believe in the Lord, You have to believe in others, And if you destroy others, You are destroying yourself, You are killing your own rights.
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Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 2:45 AM UTC
What Every Human Deserves
The catch about alcoholic beverages is not exactly what you're taught, again and again, during school. The catch is not that it impairs your thinking and awareness abilities. It is how even though one is fully aware of the situation at hand, carelessness overrules all other emotions (besides lust) and logical reasoning. This - and nothing else - is what pushed me to commit a sin I would've otherwise not committed. That, indeed, is quite an astonishing fact considering all the opportunities I'm willing to take in a heartbeat that others would deny in the same, or even less, amount of time. Perhaps the thought of my now-carried-out transgression had crossed, and even lingered on, my mind. But the dizzying poison fabricated them into action.
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Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 12:16 PM UTC
And Pray to God It Didn't Happen.
There are so many people that could just make you or break you, The constant remarks and snickers from other girls that you are too fat, You stop eating all together, How could people be so obnoxious? If you're not a size 6 you are not good looking, You won't eat again until you are just skin and bones, You won't ever be as perfect as those models, NEVER. You develop a constant obsession with being perfect, When really you can't see what you are doing to yourself. Others around you notice but choose to ignore. When one day you have a fight with your mother in public, She calls you 'A stupid, ugly, anorexic bitch', But this deosn't sting anymore because you are so used to abuse from her, She frequently tries to run you out of the family, Not even caring that you are her own flesh and blood, Her fear controls her, The fear of having one of 'those' people in her family overrules her judgment, The times you needed her she turned her back, Every action you did made her loath you even more, She puts in a face to please those around her, But you know the real her, And your are ashamed to call her, but still do, Your mother.
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:22 AM UTC
It's hard out here
Solitude. A place of my Own To be Alone Silence or Pounding Music Blocking out the Outside world Soft, damp Color on my hands Sticky as it dries Cool, wet paint smears Brushing my hair back Worn, wooden paint brush Rough, peeling Starting to Rust Familiar to my hand Gliding, Gliding Over Clean, white canvas Fumes not Good Not Bad. The Scent of fresh Paint. There And Loved. Inside I am Alone Alone, but Never lonely Like the mirrors of a Carnival Distorted, I Am. There is Angry and There is Sad and there Is Hyper and there is Smart Sometimes Angry and Sad hang out And their complaints Create that Pounding, Pounding, Aching Pulsing Pain in my Head Behind my Eyes and in My Heart. Sometimes Hyper overrules the Others And Smart sits in the Back row Quietly Calculating the Costs Because Smart is also Cold and Alone Observing Life through a Window Hyper can Chatter Away Occasionally Forgetting how to make Proper Words in Her Excitement.
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Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 10:38 AM UTC
Learn Another Language
In the absence of breath, There is no life. Movements cease, Songs make slight sense, Agony overrules, As smiles disappear. Laughter is mockery, Joy is very dim, Happiness is blurry. And only pain is clear. In the absence of breath,there is no life. But what happens in the absence of life?
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Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
In the Absence of breath
a hand to hold sounds so precious as i lay in an empty bed with a full heart waiting for someone to take my hand my brain overflows with the thoughts of one but i dare not tip the glass for the fear of a spill overrules the aching and as it drips i grasp for a hand which doesn't exist i believe in love at first sight because it's the only love my lonely eyes can create a big planet full of people and my hand stays vacant it's so hard to say you've never made contact with another humans lips in an unconditional heartfelt symbolic embrace why is the only question i can ask that will never have an answer and i have yet to see a change in that but i guess it's for the best because my weakness takes over my confidence and ruins it all and so i lay in the empty bed hand outstretched waiting for touch love acceptance belonging happiness
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Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
but even hands come in pairs
Conflict of the heart. Conflict of the mind. Which one should you follow. As love is affecting you. One overrules the other many of times. Creating a division that will warp your mind. One says go. One says hold on. I'm in control. Those that says follow your heart. Also seems to be the same ones saying listen to your mind. You under the spell of conflict. Which will eventually drives you to fit. Conflict of the heart. Conflict of the mind. We follow one for pleasurable joy. Which is mostly the one that leaves you standing out side the door. While the one we should listen too. Is bringing all types of guilt upon you. By secretly reminding you. Who you truly should have listen too?
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Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC
Conflict of the Heart
Here we are again. This same question. Why are you crying? You ask me the question to know the answer. Not to help. Some days your curiosity overrules your empathy. Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that maybe comfort could help? No. It probably hasn’t. I cry because I can’t speak. My words get caught in my throat until I have to swallow them down like every other thing I’ve ever felt. Some days emotions feel like marks of an outcast. Some days my sadness makes you angry. Is it because you don’t know why? Does it scare you? I cry because of you sometimes. Putting words in my mouth until you make me choke so much that I can’t try to make you understand. It would never work anyhow. You wouldn’t listen. “You’re just being argumentative” “Just breathe” “Tell me why” “You’re fine” “Clean yourself up” I cry because the way you’ve become accustomed to my pain hurts me deeper than any petty cut caused by some insignificant thing. I once told you that I thought I had depression. You replied with “I know.” You knew. You. Knew. You didn’t help me find my way home. You left me to drown in my own icy black waters. I had to claw my way back out. You just walked away. I’m trying to understand why. Was there a reason? I cry because I don't deserve to. I know I should be happy. I know I should be okay. Why am I falling when I should be flying? There are people out there who won’t be eating today. There are people who are mourning today. There are people who lost everything today. I am not those people. Why am I crying today? I cry sometimes. Letting my insecurities and fears and anger out of their cages. Letting the vultures peck away at me until I’m dry and empty. Lowering myself back on to ground level. Letting logic regain control of the ship as the storm settles. Making a bit of room for laughter at the table. Condensing the voluminous emotions into a simple conclusion that I can carry in my pocket for when I need it. Why is that a bad thing?
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Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 9:07 AM UTC
Why I Cry
Here we are again. This same question. Why are you crying? You ask me the question to know the answer. Not to help. Some days your curiosity overrules your empathy. Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that maybe comfort could help? No. It probably hasn’t. I cry because I can’t speak. My words get caught in my throat until I have to swallow them down like every other thing I’ve ever felt. Some days emotions feel like marks of an outcast. Some days my sadness makes you angry. Is it because you don’t know why? Does it scare you? I cry because of you sometimes. Putting words in my mouth until you make me choke so much that I can’t try to make you understand. It would never work anyhow. You wouldn’t listen. “You’re just being argumentative” “Just breathe” “Tell me why” “You’re fine” “Clean yourself up” I cry because the way you’ve become accustomed to my pain hurts me deeper than any petty cut caused by some insignificant thing. I once told you that I thought I had depression. You replied with “I know.” You knew. You. Knew. You didn’t help me find my way home. You left me to drown in my own icy black waters. I had to claw my way back out. You just walked away. I’m trying to understand why. Was there a reason? I cry because I don't deserve to. I know I should be happy. I know I should be okay. Why am I falling when I should be flying? There are people out there who won’t be eating today. There are people who are mourning today. There are people who lost everything today. I am not those people. Why am I crying today? I cry sometimes. Letting my insecurities and fears and anger out of their cages. Letting the vultures peck away at me until I’m dry and empty. Lowering myself back on to ground level. Letting logic regain control of the ship as the storm settles. Making a bit of room for laughter at the table. Condensing the voluminous emotions into a simple conclusion that I can carry in my pocket for when I need it. Why is that a bad thing?
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52
Maybe she loves too easily Yet she means it when she says it Her heart on the table For the person to devour it. Maybe she loves too easily She should see how things will evolve Before flying, one has to first learn How to crawl. Maybe she gives herself entirely That she should protect herself So she will not be deceived So briskly. Maybe she gives herself entirely And she should not unless she wants To slowly sparge the pieces Of yet another shattered heart. She gives her love too easily But when the ones she adores make it worth it It overrules All other times She ended up sobbing like a fool The only way to live To give is to receive She chooses easily Over carefully, Her heart For the taking.
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
Easily
Bruised bitter apple: the horror! To roll across my tracks. Of the crab variety, we decipher what's in cider. Fright, how might, precisely, the worms persisted- when once flesh was tender enough? Now they are dead, the apple dented where butted their unsuspecting heads. When guts are made a graveyard, no Wicked Queen’s power overrules the external grotesque, or the royal inner circle’s internal damage, ringed   like trees,    like circles of hell. Sour taste, and, more importantly-- wriggling, struggling, self-pesticidal hopes and dreams. Unsightly to fit their environs. Some as parasites, but some only friends.
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Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
Bad Apples
My iridescent mind Is no longer subtly out of control. I've passed the point of madness, Overthinking Until I reach the brink. Tucked under the paranoia Is the key to my relief. Disbelief and trust issues Seeping from my brain Into the depths of my lungs, The pit of my stomach, Brimming my heart. But the key is lost And can never be found, For my iridescent mind overrules it, And keeps it as a weapon So the mind can live, As I so delicately fade away.
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Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 3:42 PM UTC
The Key
Poems become tears, When reality sinks in, When Art brings despair, And paintings become cries. Dances become disgraces, Songs pour out insecurities, Genius bring forth controversy, Boldness becomes cowardice, Dreams make disasters, And Death rules over Life, When reality sinks in. Reality, that is. Reality. Is that reality? In sinks reality when Life overrules Death, and Disasters make dreams. Cowardice becomes boldness, Controversy forth bring genius, Insecurities outpour songs, Disgraces become dances, Cries become paintings; and Despair brings art when In sinks reality; when Tears become poems.
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Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 1:32 PM UTC
Reality.
I am not the diamond girl, That is, I am not strong for compassion often overrules I am not clear it is quite difficult for me to express my self on the first try and hard no I'm soft a mush... Although sometimes I wish I was strong, clear, and hard But maybe I am the diamond girl The diamond girl who emerged from a blackness- That is prismatic Ha! a piñata at times, Shiny(glitter tactlessly applied), With many faces, hmmm Who am I tonight- That is I! That is the diamond girl I am! God **** :)))
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 11:03 PM UTC
Profile
People warned me, turned against me, said I was a fool. Yet you I trusted but now that's busted. Still my love overrules And I don't wanna **** something so divine. Who knew I could have so much love inside? Even through all the suffering, for you I’d still give anything. You’ve turned my care into a curse, my offer of aid into a disgrace. You're always messing with my mind, sabotaged all I tried to rebuild. Now I lie in bed alone clinging to all you left me. I still look for your attention and I have cried so much over your wandering affection, over how I miss your touch. Tell me how can I move on when I’ve loved you so wholly? But I don't wanna **** something so divine. Highly doubt I could even if I tried. I’ve held on so tightly though it’d suffocate me. But even through all the suffering, for you I would do anything.
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Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 7:21 PM UTC
Painful Divinity
The stage of human development The process of advancing society The culture of a race Transforming ones personality To embrace his new found spirituality I say King, You say demon I stand united, you stand alone How did we get here? A place where fashion overrules social unity No one is allowed to oppose Only statues go without clothes Moulded, painted and erected With pride hidden from the human eyes A bizarre term from scholars Something called obligation Stealing our freedom Ignoring our masters notion Seeking pleasure I search for exemption Freedom from oppression As they battle to end the revolution Rules made, rules broken Validation is what we needed A hint of support, and we hit the road Head high, smiles wide We have achieved liberty And the rest is history
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
Civilization
My hardest times have frozen me Hardened my outermost shell Inside it is cold, painful, lonely The souls of my feet walk upon shards of ice Ice much like shining glass A step is to crumble, with each I lose more faith More and more until, Suddenly I can no longer walk, I crumble Shaking, shivering, waiting The minutes, moments pass without the slightest notion or sign Not a trace of notice in their eyes My own does not even notice the pain I do not wish to move, standing still pains me less So I stand and stare with nothing but anguish Full of utmost hatred, despair, loneliness, cold Not until then do I realize it is cold still Time as frozen as the ends of my nerves Nerves that will never function the same again Hatred for myself overrules and I redress, Solemnly limping to an unseen comfort I am in the presence of warmth but still I tremble Ruined, an outer shell cracked and crumbling I must fall, I do not wish to be alone, I am scared I am cold, I feel a most dreadful sorrow, I cannot stand I fall, but now you fall with me We collapse and let our tears melt the ice Not forever will my loneliness last and we can crumble together My heart thaws, my chills subside, and hypothermia fades
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Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 6:41 PM UTC
Hypothermia
It's not easy being out of the picture I stood in with all of you, But It's easier than trying to fit in the group. I didn't give up, I took myself out of misery. As I look back my pride overrules my anger. There were so many times we came together, I remember very little good. the picture is now a group of skinny girls and young looking men posing so sexually and rudely. I was the one taking the photos most of the time. Though I learned when not to persist, All I have to say to all of you is, Thanks. For absolutely nothing. I can now call my friends friends. And they are not the backstabbing type, They are the fun loving type.
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Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 12:23 AM UTC
Absolutely nothing