"overturned" poems
Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret life
it's lonely here,
there's no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that's an order!
Give me crack and **** ***
Take the only tree that's left
and stuff it up the hole
in your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
give me Stalin and St Paul
I've seen the future, brother:
it is ******
Things are going to slide, slide in all directions
Won't be nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
You don't know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I'm the little jew
who wrote the Bible
I've seen the nations rise and fall
I've heard their stories, heard them all
but love's the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil's riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is ******
Things are going to slide ...
There'll be the breaking of the ancient
western code
Your private life will suddenly explode
There'll be phantoms
There'll be fires on the road
and the white man dancing
You'll see a woman
hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the lousy little poets
coming round
tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson
and the white man dancin'
Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don't like children anyhow
I've seen the future, baby:
it is ******
Things are going to slide ...
When they said REPENT REPENT ...
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neon lights
skyscrapers
busy streets
blank faces
empty pockets
innocence lost
in thin air.
overturned truck
honking cabs
bumber to bumper
broken rib
missing tooth
bruised eye.
rotten flesh
distant shadows
scattered bullets
cardboard signs
wailing women
hushed tones.
pinch of salt
freshly squeezed lime
shot glass
vape juice
white cloud
euphoria.
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 7:26 PM UTC
Snarling, fangs shining, moonlight illuminating ferocious beasts,
limbs tangling, separating, lunging, caught within deadly battle.
Scarlet streams trickle from trees gouged like the bellies of their prey,
canine fiends bare their teeth, their growls like black thunder,
facing these soulless demons smeared with the blood of many.
Bodies drop with screams still rattling inside their rib cages,
demons devouring with rage that can never be quenched,
their hearts ripped from their chests, veins slit,
arteries torn mercilessly out of still warm flesh.
Creatures created from pure insanity that breed nothing but anger,
fear and despair, children's corpses torn apart, their skulls shattered.
Snapping of jaws still slimed with internal juices,
bits of raw flesh clinging to hair that shimmers under the blood red moon.
Hissing from the shadows, knotted into frenzied war,
animated corpses beside twisted bodies of wolves,
wounds gushing ruby tears, still pulsing organs shredded.
Flames rush from overturned fires,
shrieking forms, torches wavering through darkness.
Pale beings gather for the finale,
blood spatters across ground, staining everything within it's reach.
Only two are left, facing each other in the coming dawn.
Heaps of creatures litter this burned, bloodied ground, none alive.
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
I've called this ghost town home for far too long.
Spent my nights drinking with the dead.
Each sip cementing their existence in my head.
Listlessly taking shot after shot.
Whiskey,
the water of life,
commemorates the spirit of the deceased.
One
for those who passed away in peace.
Two
for those taken prematurely.
Toast number three shall be a farewell to me
but I am not ready to no longer
be.
You see,
if I were to dream eternally
and sink deeper down the fiery well,
those infamous nine levels of hell,
I would forge fresh footprints through the ash covered ground.
Walking with boots of compressed gunpowder,
the trail I leave behind is always primed to catch up with me and
spark the time bomb I walk with.
The seconds
tick
tick
tick
away.
The clock is always heading toward zero.
I tried to be a hero for many,
yet couldn't save myself.
My desires put upon a shelf.
A self inflicted penance handed down from the only one
I was foolish enough to call
god.
I am too far gone to be saved.
Grave stones mark the decay of my hopes and dreams.
The etchings on each marble tablet will eventually fade away.
The soil I am to be buried in must be overturned if anything is
to grow where I could not.
Mother nature always finds a way to nurture even the worst of her children.
Like any good matriarch, she refuses to accept anything less than her child's full potential.
Even in death.
Though I refused nourishment and love,
mother earth still holds me close.
Embraces me in a final attempt to squeeze the last drops of good which
were buried deep and thought to be dried long ago.
Ignoring her guidance, I've lived as if I would never end up six feet.
Deep were my thoughts,
dangerous my actions.
Though I lived as if I couldn't be defeated,
my first true test comes as I fight for control of my soul.
Angels and devils are now my judges,
each making their case for my demise.
The scales of destiny weigh my past actions.
The outcome holding my future.
So I'll fill my glass one final time,
and toast to those who left before me.
I'm coming home.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
motherless,
is who,
to society,
i am.
it's on my centrelink forms,
it's written on my face,
it's why my teachers pity me.
but i never get to be,
me,
rosie.
motherless,
is what i've been,
since the candles,
fleetingly glowed,
and i made a wish not to lose those i loved,
as i turned,
16.
motherless,
the things that happened for me to receive this title,
killed me,
and,
killed her,
too.
the whole world,
without her,
has turned cold and blue.
motherless,
has poisoned my whole world,
my whole being, whole gravity,
whole soul has been overturned.
motherless,
is what now consumes me,
and has,
painfully,
since i turned 16.
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 3:55 AM UTC
I remember a dog with matted fur lounging in the shade
of a collapsed arch, staring in a way that animals sometime
stare that makes me wonder if the beliefs of Kantianism are
nothing more than old wives’ tales spun from smoke and cinder.
I remember the faint smell of sulfur mixed with seawater
in the shadow of the volcano that poured out its wrath
by the bowlful, the golden urns of the gods spilling
fire and magma from the very cradle of hell.
I remember the empty bathhouses, the villas with
half-painted frescoes, the expensive red paints made from
crushed beetle shells, the overturned tables and chairs,
the uneven stone streets carved by horse-drawn cart wheels.
I remember the skeletons huddled in boathouses,
unearthed from their ash-spun graves for prying eyes,
for the rapid shutter of camera lenses, for the proof
of their existence, as if to leer at the living and say,
“We are all nothing but carbon and bone.”
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
Anwar Ibrahim
Convicted of ****** in 2008
Acquitted in 2012
The Court of Appeal overturned the acquittal
He is currently serving his sentence
An aide to Anwar
Said he was sodomized by Anwar
****** even if consensual
Is punishable by up to 20 years in Malaysia
Anwar responded the complaint was politically motivated
Support for Anwar grown stronger
His wife is battling his conviction
Some say that political rival Dr. Mahathir
Will recover from his decrease in popularity
And remain in control
Because he helped Malaysia through a though economic time
Although it seems as though Anwar is gaining support
From a majority of the Malaysian people
Human rights groups accused Malaysia's government of using
An anachronistic colonial era law that criminalizes
"Carnal *********** against the order of nature"
To persecute Anwar
Anwar leads a three-party opposition that has become
Increasingly popular in the predominantly Muslim nation
This is not just
Anwar has been wrongly accused
I will pray for his wife
And his supporters
Stay strong Anwar
You are an innocent man
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
Holocaust Poem: "On The Slaughter"
by Chaim Nachman Bialik
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Merciful heavens, have pity on me!
If there is a God approachable by men
as yet I have not found him—
Pray for me!
For my heart is dead,
prayers languish upon my tongue;
my right hand has lost its strength
and my hope has wilted, undone.
How long? Oh, when will this nightmare end?
How long? Hangman, traitor,
here’s my neck—
rise up now, rise and slaughter!
Behead me like a dog—your arm controls the axe
and the whole world is a scaffold to me
although we—the chosen few—
were once recipients of the Pacts.
Executioner, my blood’s a paltry prize—
strike my skull and the blood of innocents will rain
drenching your pristine uniform again and again,
staining your raiment forever.
If there is Justice—quick, let her appear!
But after I’ve been blotted out, should she reveal her face,
let her false scales be overturned forever
and the heavens reek with the stench of her disgrace.
You too arrogant men, with your brutal injustice,
suckled on blood, unweaned of violence:
cursed be the warrior who cries "Vengeance!" on a maiden;
such cruelty was never contemplated, even by Satan.
Let innocents’ blood drench the abyss!
Let innocents’ blood seep down into the congealing darkness,
eat it away and undermine
earth's rotting foundations.
Al Hashechita ("On the Slaughter") was written by Chaim Nachman Bialik in response to the ****** Kishniev pogrom of 1903, which was instigated by agents of the Czar who wanted to divert social unrest and political anger from the Czar to the Jewish minority. The Hebrew word schechita (also transliterated shechita, shechitah, shekhitah, shehita) denotes the ritual kosher slaughtering of animals for food. The juxtapositioning of kosher slaughter with the slaughter of Jews makes the poem all the more powerful and ghastly. Such anti-Semitic incidents prompted a massive wave of Eastern European emigration that brought millions of Jews to the West. Unfortunately, there have been many similar slaughters in human history and the poem remains chillingly relevant to the more recent ones in Israel/Palestine, Rwanda, Bosnia and Kosovo. Keywords/Tags: Holocaust, poem, Bialik, translation, slaughter, massacre, God, prayer, executioner, hangman, blood, innocents, justice, false, scales, injustice
Mar 12, 2020
Mar 12, 2020 at 4:00 AM UTC
Naturally it is night.
Under the overturned lute with its
One string I am going my way
Which has a strange sound.
This way the dust, that way the dust.
I listen to both sides
But I keep right on.
I remember the leaves sitting in judgment
And then winter.
I remember the rain with its bundle of roads.
The rain taking all its roads.
Nowhere.
Young as I am, old as I am,
I forget tomorrow, the blind man.
I forget the life among the buried windows.
The eyes in the curtains.
The wall
Growing through the immortelles.
I forget silence
The owner of the smile.
This must be what I wanted to be doing,
Walking at night between the two deserts,
Singing.
3.1k
What must you think of me?
Dark
Hungry eyes
Full of hurt and hope,
And
All
That love,
So sudden.
I've never met someone like you.
I know you see it,
And yet somehow I think you believe it,
Receive it,
Understand.
And I don't know what to do,
Because
Nobody's ever known that
And not flinched from me
The way you recoil when your hand rests accidentally on a hot stove.
In your eyes I saw...
Joy.
I saw that you wanted
What was in
Mine.
And god,
I've been trying to recover from that ever since.
It makes no sense to me.
No sense.
You saw
You saw the secret.
It spilled out at your feet
And I wanted to fall to my knees there
And beg you to forgive it.
But your eyes never shamed me-
They glowed
(god I cannot unsee them)
With excitement,
As if maybe my touch shocked you
The way yours shocked me.
In that moment
You must understand,
And every other moment since
When your eyes have found mine
And burned my disguises to dust within seconds,
Every single thing I ever knew about myself
Was overturned.
That's why I can't get you out of my head.
Why I'm scared,
Why everything I do now is a little shaky and uncertain in my mind,
Because everything
Is new.
I based my life on the knowledge that I had to hide.
Everything I was sure of, everything that had been
Proven
Time and again to me
By never being disproved
Dissolved in that moment.
You razed it to ash.
When you touched me with tenderness,
I fell apart.
When you kissed me,
I lost everything
I've been wanting to shed
For my entire life.
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC
Something breaks just around the bend
Longing is overturned
Replaced with a dull sort of fear
An impending sadness
Beauty, though gleaming with violence
Surrounds a thoughtful desire
Lust grows and swells
Bitter metallic love tastes sweet on starved tongues
Blood is no longer just red
But stunningly gone
Oct 5, 2022
Oct 5, 2022 at 3:34 PM UTC
It was the boys’ bath night
and you had bathed
and were drying yourself
with the white towel
they had given you
when the bathroom door flew open
and Anne stood there one-legged
in her pink flowered nightdress
perching on her crutches like a hawk
her eyes bright and dark
a smile lingering on her lips
well ****** me
she said
what a sight
for a girl’s lovesick eyes
and she entered the bathroom
and pushed the door shut
behind her with her bottom
almost uncrutching herself
in the process
you pulled the towel
tight around you
and stared at her
it’s the boys’ bath night
you muttered
girls aren’t allowed in
while boys bath
she moved over
to the mirror
and gazed at herself
you’re right
she said
I’m not a boy
I’m a tight titted girl
and she laughed
and crutched herself
over towards you
making you flatten yourself
against the wall
gripping the towel with one hand
and holding her back
with the other
and she leaned down
and kiss the back of your hand
then looked you deep in the eyes
what have you got hidden
behind that towelling skirt then?
she said
and you gripped the towel tighter
with both hands
and she menacingly moved
one hand cautiously towards the towel
her armpits gripping
the crutches tightly
as she moved
you shouldn’t be in here
you said
I’m not in there yet
she laughed and grabbed
the towel away with a force
that took her and the towel
toppling to the bathroom floor
where she lay
like an overturned beetle
you stood naked
your hands covering
what your father
called your toolbox
gazing down at her struggling
to get up
well don’t just stand there
like a prize parrot
help pick me up
she said
and so with one hand covering
you knelt down to help lift her up
but then she pulled you
down beside her
and laughed
and her laughter echoed
around the walls
but then she paused
and put a hand
over her mouth
hearing Sister Bridget’s
nearby footsteps
and noisy calls.
Mar 15, 2012
Mar 15, 2012 at 3:16 AM UTC
The M6 is slow southbound north of Lymm.
Queuing likely Junctions 4 through to 3.
Accident on the slip-road at Strensham
South. Rubberneckers slowing just to see.
Busy clockwise on the M25.
Overturned tanker - now down to one lane.
Rush-hour traffic, best avoid the drive.
M62 heavy westbound again.
Ongoing road works on the A1 (M).
High sided vehicles avoid the Forth
Bridge. Reports of a breakdown just come in
For those leaving the M5 heading north.........
Felicity comes, I turn off the dial
The traffic has cleared - if just for a while.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC
On a slow train
out of the Savannahs sudden exile,
the sunlight swallows me,
a calligraphy of days, hours, minuets, now
inscribed on my limbs,
syntax gives over to a dry, dry sound,
and parched, the aftertaste of sloe gin
inhabits my ribs, the lay of bones,
a labyrinth of absence,
and this velvet ache
at my wrists, a pure burning,
burning the memory red,
words swell and crumble with a kiss,
what absence, Soul of Winter,
what absence is this, spreading
over roadmaps, soliloquies, nights
stretch into mornings, always mornings,
as my fingertips pull daylight from an orange
in dream alphabets that soon dwindle
to vowels, the word, harbour, bends
the old alder beyond what it can bear,
so many ways, you say, to live like a prisoner,
at home, the rooms
are all windswept, reckless
chairs overturned , abandoned
in this, the evenings parable,
love is no more
than a syllable in a bottle
of shattered blue glass,
a poem written on the underside of a childs teacup,
their jump ropes curl like adders
at our feet, the thread
from where I dangle
in doorways and twilight,
as I bide time, perilous
over train tracks, your fingers
trace tally marks along my vertebrae,
the hollows darkening in a pathos
of blue rheumatism,
and in the carnivorous tremor
of my body breaking
like the spine of a book,
the paper gone pink at the edges,
like azaleas and bruises,
erosion, after all is the altar of the body,
and there are scars beneath my temple,
and this ache, still, in my wrists,
unbearable when it rains,
ghosts inhabit my lungs,
wrung from the silence of shut windows,
eternal clotheslines and linen
span for miles across the Savannah,
and the early frost is at last,
calling me home....
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
I shouldn’t have
I guess I forcefully moved my things into your heart on parham street
This fool has been celebrating a grubby clean slate
He drank a cocktail before the harvest
After storing his brain safely in the garbage
He asked ‘would you be mine’
I shouldn’t have said I love you first
Now realising that was the pistol to your head
And i jumped the gun twice and over again
This fool stands in awe of his folly
He reads his scribbles of idyllic love poems and ******** dovy quotidians
Every compelled ‘i love you’ will be overturned
My hands over-burned from the blisters
Bitter from the bile from every memory
Though i took my time, I was patiently stupid
I shouldn’t have
Now i’m sat here with this lollipop of regret
Now knowing that every graphic snapshot was because of that same pistol
No wonder why it all seemed strange
I used to gnaw about making you feel like you needed to trust me and love me
I was yet weary of receiving the blame of every kiss, pause and touch
I didn’t realise that the foundation was built on compelled labour
I was to quick to celebrate, but now i know what i should have
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 5:38 PM UTC
Once upon a special day,
Twenty years ago,
God placed a legend on this earth:
Anzhelika Van Gogh.
She's the epitome of art,
Her curls are a sculpture.
Even the coffee that she spills
Creates an abstract picture.
When she walks into a room,
All eyes turn to stare.
It may or may not be because
She overturned a chair.
Eating healthy is a chore,
Water just won't do.
She'll wash down her chicken wings
With a Mountain Dew.
Her fashion inspiration
Is any mom of four.
All outfits are determined by
The options on the floor.
She's wild and chaotic.
But often, so is art.
The more you get to know her,
The more you see her heart.
Fellas, are you hearing this?
She's beauty AND she's brains.
But bring umbrellas with you
'Cause in her life, Christ reigns.
She'll leave an impact on your life,
And shower you with love.
Happy birthday to the gift
God sent us from above.
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 1:06 PM UTC
Strange insecurity
overflowing backwashing traitors
skilled by entities
willing to viciously ******
massively diminish minds
whom without say-accept
what's to be overturned
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 10:32 AM UTC
Blissful the wind feels my skin
Touching it smoothly, blows against it, ruffling
More and more, I find a sense of calmness.
A purity overturned, and made pure again.
Stars shine, but as they age they turn different colors.
Compacted, these aged stars of life become beautiful jewels.
But moreover, the persons mean more to us,
Because of their heart, and their character.
The love purifies our impurity somehow.
Not long ago, I was so miserable.
I wanted to take back all of those years.
I thought the pain I caused made me the most evil thing on earth.
I felt like I was nothing worth anything.
The fact that you didn't seem to care when others would've..
That made it worse.
But I have no regrets.
Everything has woven together beautifully.
And through love, purity is now pure again.
Purity in a richer form.
In the midst of gloom,
No one sees the immense pain I carry.
Fearing the worst, I always died before the actuality.
I was so immune to feeling.
This purity I feel I now have -
No it is not innocent, but it is beautiful,
Blissful, unforgettable, unimaginable.
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 3:29 PM UTC
The snow set in the barn,
Where the horses once laid
On a cold night, ice spiraled
We tossed,turned, all packed
The troops tamed to acquiesce
Rifles silenced, bullets sacked
Stocks in deficit, awaiting ambush
Sores overturned and edged in holes
Our nerves dead in the silent night
Risking an aching machine, a body
Pushing to extremities, thrill seeking
My mind numb, body ignited in dumb
Left, right… series audibly recurred
Halting to reflect the extreme valour
A salute to quench and honor a reality
For I once sacrificed my "liberties" for "others"
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 1:00 PM UTC
Cups of coffee and plates with sugar crumbs
from pastry warm with cinnamon and cardamom,
and books overturned on antique tables
with scruff marks and scratches, loved, well-used,
(and me, in the middle of it all, listening to the
heartbeat of this country and its sincerity,
learning wisdom through small things).
He is a six foot springtide of caffeine and literature,
effervescent with sincerity and kindness and warmth.
I smile at him over the rim of my cup, and
suddenly I am swept up and moving with
his current, in love with him and a summer
spent scribbling into casebound notebooks
and with my hair flying in the wind that rustles
the trees around us, and with his lips on my neck.
Wild roses on brick walls and wooden window frames,
and the lavender growing on the curb all smile,
content to witness summer love bloom like
all things tend to do, in this season and this place.
I let him explain to me the stars in nights that
never seem to really begin but last forever;
he teaches me in not-quite darkness what
they mean, and I tell him under fairy-lights
how small I feel in the multitude of this universe.
He nods solemnly and I feel his breath in my hair,
holding me on this earth as he shows me galaxies.
- lund. cs.
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 11:49 AM UTC
We are born for a purpose but
We lay in silence
Silence that we long to escape from
But until the promised time
We can just hope
For a jail free card.
The authorities decide
And we rejoice
Because hope is about to materialize
We are about to be let out
So we stay aroused.
We pack our bags and belongings
We are leaving Egypt
Into the Promise Land
Where our destiny lies
But where lies exist
We are never certain
But we cling on to hope
Now
Hope disappoints
And decisions are overturned
An authority has cold feet
Seems we are going to stay in Egypt
We plead Mercy, but she's got her mind made up
Now dreams have been shattered.
Anger embraces us
And in our moment of rage
We decide to riot
Disturb our sacs until we are let out!
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
i know what my problem is,
what my problem has always been.
i hate myself
in every way possible.
i hate the way i look
but thats just the surface.
i hate the way i think
and feel the most.
my mind twists everything
into an unrecognizable image
and tells me that this is the way
things are and have to be.
and i feel with such despair
that my heart renders
my mind useless
in the face of fear.
i can't talk myself
out of a panic
because my heart is so loud
that reason is lost in the sound.
so i hide my heart
and my mind
and i do what i can
about the way i look.
but it's not as easy
when my heart
and mind demand to be heard
when my composure
wears off at night.
then i turn into
the pathetic disaster
i've always been.
the mess of a person
that i've kept hidden.
and believe me,
i want to change.
because i know
that asking someone to love me
the way i am
is far too great a task.
who could look at a person
that screams curses
at the mirror with such relentless
sadness and hate
and decide to love them?
well i was hoping you could.
i don't know if that's
too much to ask,
for someone so beautiful
to love such a mess.
am i way
out of line
to wish that you
would hold me and tell me
that everything is fine?
should i leave such desires
for daydreams and poetry?
because my stupid heart
wants me to beg you
to stay and love me.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 3:07 PM UTC
It's long drive on this highway
The window creaks its jagged way down
I breathe in the new air
for the first time in months
George Watsky is building
his Cardboard Castles in my stereo
On repeat-
I think of Emerson
On repeat-
Skip-
On repeat-
I think -
I feel like his transparent eyeball
Repeat-
His eyeball-
I begin to understand
what has always seemed
a clumsy metaphor
I begin to feel -
one with everything
Skip-
everyone is love
Repeat
Love
Every-Everyone is me
And you
Skip-
Everyone is all I need.
Repeat
I am all I need
And you -
I don't need anything
Except for -
-more road
-more time
-more gas
the CD starts skip-skip words
Hopping - lines
Reminding me
Of finite fuel
Repeat-
finite time
with work looming just hours away
Repeat-
death, just decades away
Then, as if responding to my overturned thoughts
My ****** speakers belt out:
Hey ******* -
The sun is shining
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
Dinosaur bones, discovered under an overturned rock. Dust-covered and forgotten photos in the attic. The rug pulled out from under us. Highway patrol of a distant creature. I woke up on the wrong side of a very terrible generation. Just when I thought all was good, it wasn’t. Giant ego ruined their reputation. Lost on the beaten path. My faith smells like ***** dishes. Heroes come and go; villains will always be. Dramatization of the fire. It’s up, up and away with a feeling of mutilated pasts. A young woman in a bad man’s dream. Keep a cool head while we enter the jungle. Booby-trapped instincts. This plan was doomed from the start. Let’s go back while we still have two of our appendages. The dog stares at the door, waiting for a Drunk. We both drink, but we’re not arrogant ****** The love I have for a friend of true nature. What’s that in the shadow of the empire? A rebellion. Smoke out the rat. The back door is a fire lane. A simply-put puzzle. Razorblade Cake-Mix. The sound scared the children. Candy from a stranger, candy from a friend, both will likely **** you in the terms of very end. I’ll stand on the first fallen soldier. He doesn’t know me in the meantime. A happy face for all those once told to forget it. My dignity in a department store lost-and-found. Jump for joy, parade for unemployed. A long line of henchmen waiting to be sidekicks. Watch where your education gets you when us dropouts change our pace. You’re better than no one, we’re better than no one, but we faced the facts about this a long time ago. Convincing isn’t working. A dark hole in the bottom of the bird-feeder. No more nourishment for your ill-advised brain.
Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 6:17 PM UTC