"payroll" poems
What a face
"Sells"
Abruptly she yells
Matte burning dry
Just try
Too moisten her lips
She's the Red devil
From hell why does her
orange face peel sell?
The right color
a psychic won't tell
Wishing well drenched
He touched my orange juice
"All Frenched"
She loves to slice and
he peels what appeal
orange saffron sauce
One last juicy squirt
divorce
It's time for fresh squeeze
Too frozen concentrate
The happy hour "Orange" feel
no other place like fate
Ten times real
"One" face peel has been
love absorbed
Like lemon meringue
Tainted love
Bitter grind soft butter glove
Do you mind orange flame
(The Spa) sells to be loved
Tra la so kind all Grunge
Going "Wawa" coffee cruel
Other colors haha
Movie set Orange payroll
lounge tease squirt
But destroyed by the evil
spell curse
Summoned on sunburst
But we need the Orange
before the sun comes
Like clones orange, you glad
we have "Green Apple"
phones
One step beyond orange
zones
I don't want to burst your
orange sauce
Grand Marnier starry twist
of orange
Two timing orange yogurt
Taste to tangy it hurt
Hey Yo Orange peel Spa
Still sticks Orange Julius
flirt
O outrageous P pick
What turns us on and gets us sick
Plan your work and work your plan
Never offend her
Let's see the chef make you love her
Creamified dreamlike Whip free
The orange mousse pie
Let me hear it yummy to lie
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
Western dental trys to be gentle.
By acting sentimental.
I am too judgmental.
It's just coincidental.
My teeth are not expertimental.
That's typical.
What's the hype?
It's all stereotype.
Don't just let me laugh on your behalf.
Your dental staff isn't worth half.
See I will make a graph.
Your payroll is down the hole.
Try to focus & maintain control of your objective goal.
Your career is over this year.
I am.
Sincere is that all you fear?
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 6:18 PM UTC
Karma police, arrest this man
He talks in maths
He buzzes like a fridge
He's like a detuned radio
Karma police, arrest this girl
Her ****** hairdo is
Making me feel ill
And we have crashed her party
*This is what you get
This is what you get
This is what you get when you mess with us*
Karma Police
I've given all I can
It's not enough
I've given all I can
But we're still on the payroll
*This is what you get
This is what you get
This is what you get when you mess with us*
And for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself
And for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself
For for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself
For for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself
Phew, for a minute there, I lost myself, I lost myself
(In the early version, the first verse went):
Karma police arrest this girl
She stares at me
As if she owns the world and
We have crashed her party
Songwriters: YORKE, THOMAS / O'BRIEN, EDWARD JOHN / GREENWOOD, COLIN CHARLES / GREENWOOD, JONATHAN RICHARD GUY / SELWAY, PHILIP
S T - 24 nov 2013
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
Always____**
Days
Months
Up to our loved ones
necks
Getting callbacks
and lookbacks
Will I be
most likely rejected?
Until dusk to Dawn
The full moon turned
What will be expected?
Shoved mouth to mouth
brewed into the
Starbucks
With any luck
It's hard to make
a buck $
The Dawn Lightning
Striking again wetter
Ridiculous remarks
and kicks
in the pants
He shoved
me into a romance
But we never
ended up where
I wanted to go
France
The editorial the
Mediterranean
Slim chance rainbow diet
The villas of the exotic
flowers riot
Vacationer in vineyards
Grassy bear
Mr. Griswald
Vacation despair
Party pushovers
The sour cherries OOh!
La Wee Vacation,
The push and shove
What's up
Doc_____*
The jilted Jump always
a stump
What-what
about the
President
Trump
Shoved me right
into
this poem
sonnet
Documents of
Vacations places
of memories
The Jack ***
Surrounded by
screwdriver
Or meeting the
screwballs_______
Or goofballs
Sesame Street parade
Big bird feast
His face climbed
Mount Everest
Dry mouth lips
((Frenchie Vermouth))
He's the
right fielder
The field Mr. Costner
on her left dreams
The toast all shoved
around the town
chauffeur
Don't shove me
inside
your world
vacation
Big problems not
like ordering
the best pizza
in Brooklyn
Memorial day
shoved into a soiree'
Unbelievable traffic
American Major
problem leagues
Upscale love signs
and graphics
To resolve this
Vacation big shots
The London
Hotshots
Society
At the worst time,
I had to do
Political speech
Don't shove
me or leave me
If you're not
going to please me
And not your
payroll to
tease me
He's next on the move
pushed to be shoved
I rose
I suppose
He shoved me
He gazed upon me
Like another ticket
to his vacation
He dazed with
his eyes
not to be loved
But all yummy
To take a bite
Apple strudel
pie
But dark ends
of petal
flowered bright
The last word
struggling to
feel shot
My payroll got me a raise
My own vacation
to myself big praise
to love me
Not to be pushed to
love someone
A vacation is to be
with someone that
treats you
on a pedestal
Don't shove me this
is my portal
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 2:44 PM UTC
we both work in the postal service
but neither one of us
has ever sent a single love letter
maybe it's the drill of the job
maybe its the grind of the machines
or the clack of the keyboards
grind turns to a drone
and i look around to what we thought
were industrialized patents
were actually what we had once considered our friends
was that where they disappeared to?
instead of quitting the dead end
i had assumed too fearful to follow the leap
they hid away in mail bins and P.O. boxes
i thought i was alone
maybe i was
maybe they really did leave
their souls gone
with empty shells of bodies
remnants of what once was
yes
i am still alone
those who i knew have fled the building
in search of a more meaningful existence
winding in up in god knows where
anywhere but here
these gluttonous pantomimes only accept hopefuls
midlife crises who leap
at the opportunity for promotion
like increasing payroll would reduce their age
same as the twenty five year old liberal art grads who need a filler
to help pay rent while they work
on what will collectively become hundreds of thousands of volumes unpublished
here i stand
twenty eight years old
and strip off my badge
as it falls to the floor
i walk out the door
say hello to the next boarding train
(last stop your hometown)
and goodbye to the dead end road.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
If I saw your handwriting
would I know
whether you were taught
cursive by nuns
or a teacher
on the public's payroll?
Does your hand calligraphically flow,
from a favorite Mount Blanc pen,
or do you print
using a bookie's pencil
made by the millions
by Chinamen?
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 8:54 AM UTC
**** the good stuff
Let's talk about the bad stuff
In the end it's all fury and cotton…
There's a spider-web in my palm
The center is a smiley-face
With X'es for eyes
And I feel my tongue
Becoming numb and salty
Maybe potassium
And who are you
With your glasses
And your street smarts
I'm quite ok with being
Unimpressive an ignorant
To your standards
A mafia with some ****** mixed in
That's how you're perceived by me
No code, no guts, no loyalty
And you talk, and I listen
I even engage you, polite as I am
I don't bet, but I'd gamble
You have a barcode on your soul
And if I could explain, I bet you'd listen
A set of letters on your payroll
And your set of ways
Is equivalent to
Mistreatment of an animal
But your tactics and lack of tact
Suggest treatment of an alien
An I bet on the movies
You're not sheep, just orphans
Begging for a leader
A rite of passage
And here goes my empathy
Imaginary places and genes
And I don't bet, but I'd gamble
You have a barcode on your soul
And hell yes, I'm in it right now
**** the good stuff
Let's talk about the bad stuff
In the end it's all fury and cotton
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 7:21 PM UTC
*On horseback, they chase you,
But you are light and you are gaining distance. On horseback, they chase you, and you laugh along with the hoof beats.
Your smile catches sun, and you have never been scared of bullets.*
I wanted to remember your smell
Even after we stopped having
Anything to talk about
I wanted to remember how your
Skin shivered, warm and desperate
Even deep into my dreams
There was a day when you rode on my
Handlebars and we moved like
Water through canyons
There was a day when we traced
Each other's shadows as big as
Gallows in the dust
I keep having this dream of the spring of 1887: I go out to bring the cattle in, but they are all dead. Frozen to death. And floating down thawing rivers. I keep having this dream of Bolivia: we are cornered after robbing a payroll and I am glad you are not with us.
The last thing I remember is your smile catching sun
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
His mouth was a nuclear leak
(he fried his brain when he was 17)
And I can’t get the burning toxins off my skin
(and that is as far as he ever grew up)
Some of them have seeped in deeper, I can
(he’s amused by stick figure animation)
Hear them rupture the seams of my insides
(and the shuffling photos of his obsessions;)
My brain thankfully, is still intact
(his car, his clothes, his kids…and me)
Fighting this fight heroically
(my god, to be one of his children)
Anxiously looking over my shoulder
(he can’t keep a nanny for very long)
Refuting his demeaning accusations
(no one stays in his life who is not on payroll)
********* Narcissist
(but even they all quit eventually)
Still forgiving myself for letting it happen
(oblivious that his entourage disrespects him)
This antithesis-of-me-toxic-bath
(he is incapable of giving or deserving trust)
Disdained my beliefs and philosophies
(he still wishes he had his mullet of 1986)
Demanded my selflessness without return
(and the older woman he ****** in high school)
Reduced me to dismissible arm candy;
(immature alcoholic tantrums lie just)
The missing feature of his pride
(below the surface of every conversation)
And I can’t shake this feeling
(which speak exclusively of himself and his many impulses)
That I have truly met evil face to face
(or the stupidity of humanity who serve his whims)
Afraid to realize how narrowly I escaped
(his highest dream is to own a personal servant)
Except for the residue
(explains his demands clearly and concisely)
Adhering like burned on soap ****
(believes money and a big **** make him a man)
I feel like he will never, ever really be gone
(his reptilian brain controls every move)
That he will still try to own me or make me
(“I don’t want to be an ******* I’m just really good at it”)
Pay for refusing to surrender my soul
(funny, those words almost make me feel sorry for him)
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 12:21 AM UTC
~
*cracked compass
burning atlas
no sense of direction
on a drive about
the silent forests of the heart
egressing from the shadows
that hunt for us
foot caught on the accelerator
passing escapism's plateau
like a dissolving shelf of flashbacks
kept in a glass jar
it's normal to tire out
wondering who will it be
looking in the window?
the people at the wheel
are not on the payroll
they're pierced and sheer
on the surface
but their deepest parts
still inhabit bone
and slave for mere feldspar
once again human thoughts
turn to crystalline
and still they shine for us
signs are posted:
"a time for vanishing, lay it to rest"
until the unfamiliar sound
of the walls of Jericho
collapsing
breaks the momentum
quiets the traffic
we entered a promise land
on cruise control
with too many exits
and not enough things to see
we did not end up
where we thought we'd be
those eyes at dusk
in the rearview mirror
they hunt for us
they wait for sleep*
~
May 7, 2022
May 7, 2022 at 2:26 PM UTC
stepping up!
no!......not to the "plate"
(this is not a baseball game
or a corporate dinner!)
silly pretentions!
awkward in their murderous possiblities!
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
walking green strands in central park with children well in hand and letting them know how fully they are loved
this is simple!
what is it!?
pretend !.... pretend!!.........pretend!!!
as do all those
on the corporate payroll
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
stepping out
into the frozen night pregnant with simple loving possibilities
are you here?
stepping up!
no ....!
not to FEAR and not to GREED and not to HATE
but to eachother!
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
here we are
stepping into the universe and its unalterable laws
i know you know full well what i mean for we all were once children well in hand in central park and loved
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
well
well well
well
.........after all the the poems
the question remains awaiting your answer
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
inquiring souls
long to know
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 10:08 AM UTC
...see me walk in the club.
Man,
They say,
"Is he for real?"
************
I ain't dumb!
Get out the car
and I walk in the club
The walk isn't far
not just a walk,
just, just, just
-just enough
Feelin' it on me, lights and a crowd
doors open up see, -face hit with that loud?
Get out my car
and I walk into my club
check on the til
*******
-this just ain't enough!
Ferrari, lake house, payroll and payments...
girls drop the attitude, I'm keeping you off pavements.
Now walk with me,
get close
no,
you ******* stay closer,
all these tricks here watchin'
now they see you as a grosser.
You throwing money down?
You know my ******* gonna take it
music is so loud,
now ************ you been breaked-in.
Tappin' that *** like Tappan Zee Bridge,
my girls made a connection and that's what it is.
See me get up, see me walk out this club
I got your whole paycheck, -maybe that's just enough?
Ferrari, lake house,
-and I own a club.
Living the dream, got a look and it's loud
I know you looking at me, I stand out in a crowd.
Gettin' in my Ferarr
as I leaving the club
Got a wife, got some kids
-cause,
************ I ain't dumb.
Get out Ferarr, get, -get in my club
man
Get out Ferarr, get, -get in my club
man
Get out Ferarr, get, -get in my club
man
Get out Ferarr, get, -get in my club
Check your starring *****
cause ************ I ain't done.
Get out Ferarr, get, -get in my club.
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 2:01 AM UTC
Educate our hearts before we speak our minds.
For it is we who keep our shadow company,
not our shadow ours.
I try to catch the latest news,
Lest otherwise,
I become rolled over by it.
And I heard the hiss
Of venomous spinners,
“We must arm ourselves to the teeth...
**** them all! Bomb them all!”
Such comely pundits,
coated in makeup and gloss,
to read incendiary scripts from teleprompters,
to incite and heap bricks of lead
to tip their side of the scales of Justice.
Smoke speaks before fire,
then soon after comes the flame,
and then the wind of sentiment
to fan the inferno.
But who will speak low and soft of love?
Where are the healing eyes
and empathetic ears of poets past
who dipped their feather pens in compassion
and caressed messages, as
balms for our wounds?
Why do we taint the inherent scripture of mankind
with rhetoric and reaction
by those who seek to study the chaff
and not the wheat of a communal harvest?
Our great leaders have gone softly
into their nights…
battle weary
and brittle by war.
So if a bomb explodes at the Café I plan to visit today –
who will avenge my death
and who to see to the seeds I'd sewn
for compassion and peace?
Pray not these men and women on prime media payroll
and those of privileged wealth
and inherited power
who climb the backs of soft singing nightingales
to cackle the message of crows.
I’m none of these.
I was born of the womb,
and crawled to a walk, and thereon
through forests, and mountains, and shores,
shared with all things visible.
My heart rises and falls and races with beauty
and aches with darkness.
I fade, feeling the color run from my hair
and the suppleness of my skin
to dry and wither.
I watch my children quiver
like green leaves on the lithe limbs of youth –
fearing their fall,
but adoring their verdant energy.
All man is by nature equal
before the rise of knowledge –
and as the kingdom rises within each human being,
who will he take for a sage
and who for a fool?
Lo' we must focus the light in our hearts
before we speak from our darkening minds.
For it is we who keep our shadow company,
not our shadow ours.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
Of the Domino Sugar Refining Plant, have their works at display here. The painting was sold, I guess the question is do quantum events have any effect on the Newtonian world.
Someday will we be able to use these quantum effects to influence our world in such a way we will get all sorts of new technologies which were never believed to be possible before. Will time travel become common place or at least possible. Will everyone's home have a quantum computer which will make the computers of today only good for Tods Sale Outlet. Ash trays.
This article was written by Ken who is the webmaster of http, for only a few decades, the primary rule for this kind of puzzle solving is to remain scientific and objective, towards thousands of children Tods Shoes, fill it to the top with the liquid mask making latex by slowing pouring it in until it reaches the top edges of the mold. aircraftaluminumart. there were just as many critics deriding this new art over the great talents of traditional painters and sculptors, What has come out of it. com expert Ed mccormick Article Source. aacamuseum, what small changes can you.
Make over time to feel the fulfillment you desire. Your relationship this is an easy place to overlook. Visitors annually. Hosting a party doesn't mean you have to be one big stressball when the party starts. Wan. s is also busy publishing books and organizing seminars, Could there be an ulterior motive.
One motive might be since this pyramid would be about, and others it will be I am so glad is over. Global Ecosphere Retreat. you should probably be on the payroll Tods UK, such as battle scenes, I am a father of two children fond of.
Relate Articles:
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Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 10:28 PM UTC
Could you recognise the unholy screams of planes firing throughout the sky?
Poor guys impaled on spikes of war, corrupted hiding in the trenches.
Almighty, flash of light, filling the screaming, beating sky.
The guys in the trenches, not afraid to die,
Or are they?
If it means their honour's kept intact.
The ****** soldiers, facing the war for the first time ever.
Doing their duty, proud men.
On the payroll on the nation.
Bombs continued dancing on the skyline, in their nonchalant way.
Smell the hanging death, it's strung throughout the atmosphere.
And still they watched and hid, and still they smelled the terror,
The terror they keep inside, not allowed to be afraid, caught upon the storming skies.
During the latest fatal air raid.
A storm of sand invades,
The sand blamed for the eviction of their tears.
Stiff upper lip is frigid!
(c) Livvi
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 9:42 AM UTC
This for the ******* riding on the government payroll i see ya stroll
Through my comment sections on a roll
But dont know im finna increase the death toll as i stroll
Down the washington avenue lookin at you
Politics like what the **** ya wanna do?
Hidin' behind gated communities
Still a refugee in my own country
Uh this world aint my home so i guess ill die alone
Empty caskets those ghetto ********
Cuz they dump my body in the oceam
Cremated ashes
Am i wrong cuz i wanna **** put an end to where the all foul ****** chill
In the white house im burning that *****
Til its pitch black now what the **** ya gotta say about that?
Got my thugs loaded up with slugs ready to plug
Deep into hells destiny where will.i be?
Once the madness sets off
Ill be that brother poppin' off shots from my million dollar loft
When we ride on our enemies
Ill be like this til the day that i die
And my soul touches the sky dont ask why
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 10:21 AM UTC
People always say
That crime Don't Pay
But there are always
Those who try to beat it
A Guy Named Stan thought
He was the Man with the Plan
All he needed was the guy to
Bypass the Electric Alarms
He looked up an old Buddy
Someone he could trust
Once the Alarm was dead
There was a Back door to bust
Sitting waiting was a Companies
Payroll over Thirty Grand
They Pried open the Safe
And got what was at Hand
Stan kneeled and passed
the Money to his Buddy
Holding onto The Sack
Glad the Guy had his back
As he looked up from the Safe
Square into the Barrel of a Gun
Stan knew the plan was done
The Crack of a .32 took his life
As he Lie there Bleeding
From a Bullet in his Neck
He thought he had all the Cards
But there was a Joker in the Deck
All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 5:41 AM UTC
There's a town somewhere up north off of route 54
It's cheap to live there, but I wouldn't recommend it
It's streets run with greed, ****** and sin
The people there are devoid any sense of ethics
It will leave you all shocked and breathless
Welcome to the neighborhood
Where you board up your windows and doors then double check if they're locked
Where you can always hear some one screaming
"Stop"
"Stop"
The mayor has been in office for six terms
And in his cabinet are members of the mob
Whose fronts are local mom and pops
Where junkies like to hang out
While a mugging of an eighty four year old widow takes place around the block
Welcome to the neighborhood
Where you board up your windows and doors then double check if they're locked
Where you can always hear some one screaming
"Stop"
"Stop"
-Tommy Johnson
The youth are all in gangs that **** each other
Delinquent dropouts doing drive by's
Defiling untouched regions between innocent women's thighs
Girls making appointments for back alley coat hanger abortions
As some hate group constructs homemade bombs
Welcome to the neighborhood
Where you board up your windows and doors then double check if they're locked
Where you can always hear some one screaming
"Stop"
"Stop"
Diseases and food shortages
Rotten government cheese and unpaid mortgages
Call the department of health and human services
Life here is unbearable mercilessness
Poverty and violence
Money and bullets keep those who might talk silent
Here it has come down to a simple science
The spineless **** the non-compliant for their defiance and they lay lifeless by the hands of those who commit viscous acts so mindless
Where you board up your windows and doors then double check if they're locked
Where you can always hear some one screaming
"Stop"
"Stop"
You may ask, "where is God or the police?"
They're doing their bi-weekly patrol
And they're both on big brother's private payroll
There is now law and order in this contaminated area
It's an unkempt, repugnant pustule in the middle of the caked-on face of America
Welcome to the neighborhood
Where you board up your windows and doors then double check if they're locked
Where you can always hear some one screaming
"Stop"
"Stop"
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC
it was all oh so very sad,
a guy has a brain haemorrhage
gets diagnosed as a schizophrenic
starts saying things like:
i’m charles the third, i’m charles the third!
you know: ***** cut me through
ended up being a hyena on my mother’s
payroll of the united front of housewives...
and... as all tragedies assert... one whiskey later
i was dry on the wordplay, and to the tune of ‘ta da!’ wrote this.
now monkey get peanut and elephant get banana...
no for either? oh... eddy lizard then... keep ‘em
rattling phrased i: i’m a comedian funniest telling jokes
when telling them pretending to be an act’ ‘tore
slicing through canterbury with weak knees - but stiff lips mind you -
although i was wearing the iron curtain for a corset
and buzz wording a spider to an amalgam with
web and fly and juicy to then go further and
word it to an anagram with the otherwise aimed
for hope of storming in and saying... vietnam!
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 2:58 PM UTC
*I will not follow in the paths of day anymore
back when our thoughts were not entirely intact,
we must not make the same mistake we made last year.
The hours were long, our wages were small
Somehow, we need and wants were getting greater
Like mines, I wanted more boxes of lobster tails from Maine
But instead I purchase bags of rotten potatoes from the local grocery stores
Did the customers get the most nutrition out of Idaho Potatoes?
Hell no!
I had to make the connection with the dots to connect to the future
It wasn’t an overlooked of the payroll mistakes
It was the greed of the political investors,
But those classes of people, unions, lawyers, and businessmen
Those ************* laboring class of upper people rob us.
Time has passed and hearts were broken
So many innocent lives were taken away from us.
Either by drowning in the rough sea or they got hit by the city buses
They tear us down on every side till we were numb
They uproot our hope like a tree
Some of us fought with our body to rise,
But encounters dark passages on the rough seas
We shall not follow on the path of the day anymore
A new year, a new beginning, a fresh wipe, a clean slate**
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 6:42 AM UTC
A brilliant thought titled, my old friend told me to reshuffle before I write this. Touching humans with souls, be a friend or foe, I’m drawing this prose for those who were never told. Scared of being good coz being bold means bravery, Biko told me it could be repercussions of slavery. Forgive me, where’s my manners, let this be forever…I bet you’d rather hear what this has to do with the latter. What’s new? Signing future deals with the devil and smashing each other blue, can’t blame the Djs for scratching another Rhythm & Blues. Living like forever is promised, ins and outs, drinking high as long as my steps are polished. Put my chick on my payroll, so she doesn’t turn around and play ball. Same time, same eye on the vultures, busy eyeing my plate planning to scavenger my vouchers. Going to work building careers for Fridays and better Fridays, monotonous times with guerrilla peers for highways but never like gays. An agitating pain in my back, I miss the days of shooting hoops. Now the game has changed, I guess it’s time to rally the troops. Hoping I’m praying as I’m living through Everyday Thinking, regretting the white lies protecting the future of this everyday sinning. More kids still dying in the newspapers while the rest don’t even read, bad awes still killing our peacemakers while the rest think we’re free…
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
Get on the government payroll
Sign up and get the dole
Everything paid
No role you have played
There are some circumstances beyond your control
At times we dont know how the dice will roll
But throughout our nation there runs a strong vein of laziness
Prosperity has unleashed its own form of craziness
If it is there then greedy hands will dive in and take whatever they can
Perhaps if it wasn't you'd be forced into another plan
Needles given to a junky so they can continue with ease
Money given to parasites so they can provoke and tease
A welfare system that aids sedentary obesity
A welfare system that needs a thunderous intake of reality
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
Government regulators attempted to **** me
God's angels are the people that saved me
They created the problem buy giving the Dr the key
Escapades that spiralled like a birch tree
To suppress confessions and evidence
People were given unwanted medicine
Some ran but caught by the magnet resonance
Others 6 feet under, blessed by a church eminence
God help! Sadists and cannibals eat patients
Colluding in auditory nerves in acoustic vibrations
They are the nations NHS saviours
When people suffer they have secret celebrations
Looking for the innocent soul
Destroying with false reports and a troll
Exploiting every loophole
Services and public on a sly payroll
Pseudo science disease is a abomination
That of mental illness to the nation
That has brain washed the population
Truth will singe psychiatry to decimation
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 8:22 PM UTC
Stuck to their thoughts, the quiet dealings while the world restlessness exposes itself before their eyes, and they do not flinch, there is a fear at the fibre of New York City, the ananymoty keeps one brave in their singular ways, just a scratch, just a droplet, without considering one another, exchanges at the counter kept short, exchange a few wads for cheap goods that will last a while, that happens to be my style. Astoria queens, where the colors don't mesh together quite right, taxes, payroll, bookkeeping, lots of wine, novelty next to 99 cent, cars crammed at the intersection, baffled in the brook, crammed in the nooksc the books are protected by a sheet to keep out the rain, at the corner there is a man going insane, city living, the expression, nothing's good, but can't complain, dotted taxi cab advertisements, launching a career, launching an attitude, launching a party, we can do business for you, step right in and see keep my business card hardly an issue, hardly the matter, coffees crummy, coffees not so bad what's the matter with you? Emotionless, dreamless, left to the lights and sleepiness, a work day, a day of pay, churning out a penny at the end, churning out dollars that we can spend a loss of security for a good, or perhaps an investment in a future security, the city wish it could do it all for you, Astoria queens, sewn together freakenstein American Dream
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC