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Riot Apr 2014
mother
why can't i just run away
father
why can't you just stay
friends
why can't you believe me when i say
there is somthing i've never done
i'm not a victim of that way
society
why can't i just be who i am
just because i'm not famous
and know where i stand
world
why do you let people
**** there own people
has it really come to that?
kids
having birthdays in hospitals
without their whole family there
because thier country
doesn't know who to fight
why can't we all help them there?
who else knows about the trubles
in syria
killing there owm
who else is acually going to
"save the children"
why can't we give those children
a safe home
http://www.savethechildren.org/faf/home/default.asp?ievent=1091398
save the children
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2017
i am the one who makes up my owm axi,
rather than be man, in talk of repast,
and fake, and metaphor, and the need for
sleuth... ordeals and godly stature, but only with
orff's carmina burana, we are to dine?!
oh jew, oh arab... why whiff that stink so far
north? familial affairs? concerns? psychiatrists?!
how about an ode to dates
to break the month of ramadam?!
no, you tell me, at, what, point,
am, i, to, understand, you,
before, i, stop, selling, you,
apples, at, the greengrocers?
you gonna fake it and turn all turk
on me? i kinda hope you did,
the time i mentioned henry viii's wives
in a rhyme: charles the first goit the chop,
charles the second managed a harem
but primarily a poet,
charlie ****** the third?
    probably a plush stuffed bunny...
so i tell this homeless person my rhyme...
****! she runs off screaming...
next time i talk to homeless people
i'm brining a monopoly fake of a house
to surround and let the hounds loose on them...
but it's kinda nice... living in a society
that still believes in monarchy...
  i get to talk silly rhymes, just about names,
wives of henry buffon and...
that brothel disease: syphilis and sisyphus!
and that rhyme about 'enry... the 'andy man...
the one that could put up a shelf...
  yeah, that rhyming Olaf...
could get a homeless woman... running...
to fear rhyme...
    just when Otto was in power in germany,
and there was no vogue concerning baptising
babies with that failed name...
you know women, premonitions about
the zodiac and ****... magic...
          crying about the stone cold heart
of men in labs...
   yep, that story, it's boring,
it's history, tried and tested, proofs in pi...
and take to making up
names.
then again, the turks are prettily civil,
they can allow housewives,
and those housewife soaps.. i.e.
operas... i.e. melodrama that doesn't happen
in real life... the turks can stomach that...
ask an arab to provide the same when women
age... he starts a vanity project akin to
a pyramid that is the dubai glass-glacier...
   i know, and many other people
know where the Everest mountain belongs...
should that glass monstrosity belong where it's
currently placed? i'm looking at it and going all
Loci to say the most perfect joke...
   hyper-*****?
     ask the people that built it, the Bangladeshi...
why ask a ******* ****?
     they're bothered by Hindu...
i will add: -stan -stan, never mind Stanley
and why pole is never bothersome
you valentine crisp day-care centre worth of emotion...
  i don't get bothered whether you smack your
head against a pole, polejump, and polish
a wooden table... ****... get along with it...
english says don't when it says do not...
**** is acronym, ever heard of those?
     -        do i look like a queen Sheeba prediction
of copper skinned waiting for vitamin D
like i might wait for a suntan?!
yeah, i probably do...
but can you grow mushrooms on the tip of everest
from a horse's ****, giving there's so little atmosphere?
can fungi grow in zero oxygen environments?
  next, i'll say: i feel like growing one on my toe...
and be called an athlete...
     hail Olympus! ooh... hail 'eno... z...
    harp and snore... the anti clues given to both
orchestras...
apparently life was so very different back then,
thankfully my nostalgia only goes as far back
as the 1990s (nineteen nine tee offs)...
  before zeitgeist piracy and when your bought music.
i just find it funny how people get offended
by someone's spelling accuracy,
it's like people want people to become dyslexic...
no one seems offended when a triangle isn't
drawn...  ******! draw a triangle!
  a bit like: write something that doesn't require
spell-check!
              i always believed in people and literacy,
evidently people these days don't believe in either...
and yes, the Japanese really did write better cartoons
than the Mc Disney brigade...
they acutally invoked *** in their cartoons...
you know, once you learn english
you learn alice, the "wonderland" and the inherent
joke that the english language can't rub off,
namely paedohpilia...
           *** aware once able to take ***-invoking selfies
and posting them online?
  huh?
          you've been giving the status of a global
sprechen, and it's the internet, so apparently it's not real,
apparently the matrix metaphor can last for
30 more years...
of course the internet isn't real,
what with internet banking, hacking, politics,
the death of 20th century concept of window shopping...
the internet isn't real... what with
online dating... brothel services...
   THE INTERNET IS IN ITS INFANCY,
DO YOU EXPECT PEOPLE TO TELL YOU
ANYTHING APART FROM TRYING TO CALM YOU?!
   i too wished i wasn't the lab rat... evidently
the lab came before i realised i was a rat in it...
          they tell you it isn't real,
they tell you all that *******...
and sure, i buy it...
       it's just one thing,
they tell you the internet isn't real
when they accepted that the phonebook was real...
and yet they do their banking, on, the internet...
  what is and what isn't real... kinda happened...
and is already pointless to talk about.
Happynessa Mar 2016
Take care with your dreams
They can crack with reality
The hand that is given to hold
Has always relied on another
To regain its own balance
For it too has fallen hard
On the infertile arid ground
Needing water from the well
And salt from mother earth
Hearing it's owm wail and cry
It can only kneel and pray
Trying something different
Katie Hawkins Nov 2017
You
You think that you know me.
You think that you understand me.
You think that you know what I think.
You believe that you know who I am.

But you have no idea.

How many times have I taken peoples thoughts to my heart?
How many times have my own thoughts plagued my dreams?
How many of my owm dreams did I crush because of the demons that I created?

How many times did I cry myself to sleep?
How many times have I drawn words on my own body that discrimated me?
How many faces do I show everyday to mask the pain that you and I inflict on my mind and body?

Do you know how many times I've held a knife to myself?
Do you know how many times I've dreamed of spilling the crimson liquid that runs in your veins?
Do you know how many demons I have created for myself?

The truth is always there...
I always scream it to you...
But you don't see...

You don't know how many voices live in my head that match yours!
You don't know how many tears that I have shed because if you!
You will never know how many ropes I have tied around my neck to remind me that I am still alive!

So let me ask you...

How many times did you blame me!?
How many times did you tell me that I was no good!?
How many times did you force me to change myself!?

You will never understand how many times I've looked at death as a friend.
You will never understand how you hurt me!
And you will never understand why I wish that I had never been born!

So, when I am grown, and when I have a family of my own, I promise that I will never treat them that way.

I promise that I will never make them look at the mirror defeated.
I promise that I will never let them face their demons alone.

But, most of all,
I will never forget the very reason that I make these promises. I will never forget my promises. And I will never forget to stare at you, and smile when I finally see the day that you realize how you ****** up.
I hate when they assume that I must be the one to change... I am always the one that hurts. But, when I hurt... It's not real.
Partial Artist Mar 2020
Another Friday night
Let's burn this city to ash
I may be in debt
But have a pocket of cash

Blue button down
Jeans pressed so tight
Don't plan on wearing them
Very much tonight

Let's turn up again
Like weekends before
But that's not my life
I'd love nothing more

Another week over
With no plans made
Alone in my room
Is where I have stayed

For the last year
Coming up on another
The only woman I text
Is saved under "Mother"

"Goodnight love u"
Is all that is typed
Which I follow with "love u"
Night after night

So glad I got
My hair cut to impress
To lay in my room
And rhyme words that depress

That I can post online
For a comment or two
I hardly enjoy it
Just something to do

Of course you are out
Embracing your youth
While I'm making up verses
With underline truth

I've done so well
For a guy my age
Independent at 18
That set the stage

For my future
Long and bright
And I guess being asleep
By 9:00 every night

Eighteen years
Never been kissed
And I've struck out again
Swing and a miss

Can count every date
On half of a hand
I want more than lust
I just don't understand

My poems of love
I'll never relate
Can't find a friend
Much less a date

So glad I worked
For a place of my owm
A constant reminder
I'm still alone

— The End —