"pitty" poems
She always burned her
Barbie dolls after she cut
All the hair of that plastic,
Magic perfect blonde ****
She was 11 and had just
Always hated how all
Her family and friends kept
On giving her a doll
That was perfect and had all
And she just couldn't see
The relevance and the elephant
In the room is insecurity
So at 11 she Cant see what she is
but what she is not
her imperfections made her check
If Barbies got what she got
But Barbie did not barbies
perky with both ***** and ****
Her legs don't grow hair
And she don't need cover up
And her short legs look
Nothing like barbies do
Even her *** and
Thighs are all proportioned too
Fit her spectacular body's frame
that frames her reflexion
with the blame to detain
what remained as complexion
Of her oily pimpled skin that
Is too fair and needs a tan
And living up to all that not to
Mention a corvette and a man
That's why Barbie hangs across
Her closet where her mom
Saw the Barbie dolls She hung
by the neck yelling what's wrong
butShe just masks how she
felt so a head doctor was
a psychiatrist who sighed
A bit but had sided with her cause
She was an ugly duckling herself
That Never grew to be pretty
But the city has no pitty for no
Pretty so best you be witty
And told her to keep with the
hate she now held for Barbie
and before She left the doctor said
**** a corvette get a Ferrari
So She left happy but hardly
Cured of her obsession
Over beauty and style,
With a classy shoe collection
But she is now only 11
And reassures herself that she
Is no barbie and would repeat
barbies not prettier than me, and
Til she believes it she still burns them
To hang them soar
Shows a mirror to the bald barbie so
She knows she's not pretty no more
See what its like to feel too short
as She cuts at the knee
She says" i can be more
like Barbie if she's more like me"
Wheres obese Barbie,
or Immigrant Barbie from far
Black haired or short haired Barbie
Who's bus pass is her car
How about welfare Barbie or
realistic Barbie anything but
A smooth long haired long legged
Perfect shaped ***** and ****
With Friggin hips child birth was
Not made for and why
She asks Can't barbie have flaws so
I can pause the feeling that I
Will fail before I try if I
Am expected to be
So beautiful and Barbie never talks
No wonder kens easy to please
the message seems look pretty and
Dont talks all u need
So she hangs them violently
but quietly wishing they would bleed
But as she gets older shell
Like herself more and won't dwell
That god didn't make her a Barbie
maybe hes not as good as matel.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
it has been over two years and i am proud of my growth. my main focus this year is to finish my grieving so that i may continue my life in an efficient manner.
the process of grieving is commonly known as, but not limited to:
denial
anger
bargaining
depression
acceptance
my denial proces:
many times the easiest way to get over trauma is to repress it. i was 15 when i was ra ped. legal age of consent is 16. he was 18. i was naive, and could not imagine the man i loved doing that to me. i believed that it was an accident and neither of us knew what was right or wrong. I had assumed that because i had previously given him my body, he was able to ignore my pleads to stop this time. i blamed myself more than i blamed him, and he blamed me. i had been so infatuated with him that i had pushed away the people who cared most about me. when i told them about being ***** our bond was already so far gone that they could not feel anything more than pitty. i was terrified of losing him, so i convinced us both it was an accident. ra pe is no accident.
through denial became anger:
i became genuinely angry for the first time in my life. i was angry at him for being somebody that i had trusted and loved. angry that i had let this happen to myself. angry that i had no strength nor respect to stand up for myself. if i had told him to stop one more time he would have. i understand now that i should not have had to say no more than once. i was angry because i let myself down, but I’m more angry that i could not blame him. being angry was the easiest part of grieving. it is okay to he angry.
bargaining is a toxic healing method:
i became really good at bargaining with myself. after he was gone i had begun to understand my emotions, but i could not control them. my fear of more being taken from me fed my overcompensation. i began to give my body away, so that it could not be taken. it was an unhealthy coping mechanism. my body is not meant to be given nor taken.
depression hit hard:
i began to reflect on all of the points in my life that had lead me to this one. i became close to restarting the grieving process. i spent a long portion of the depression stage in denial. then i was angry that i had backtracked to the beginning. i had more meaningless se x that i now regret more than anything. i saw how good his life had been going and how poorly mine was. it was obvious that i needed help.
acceptance:
this entire passage was my process to acceptance. i reached out to my therapist. i made new friends. i stopped wallowing in self pity and i began to recover. i stopped begging to forget my flaws and began to forgive them.
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 1:50 AM UTC
I was foretold, your rebell ***
Nor love, nor pitty knew;
And with what scorn you use to vex
Poor hearts that humbly sue;
Yet I believ’d, to crown our pain,
Could we the fortress win,
The happy Lover sure should gain
A Paradise within:
I thought Loves plagues, like Dragons sate,
Only to fright us at the gate.
But I did enter, and enjoy
What happy Lovers prove;
For I could kiss, and sport, and toy,
And taste those sweets of love;
Which had they but a lasting state,
Or if in Celia’s brest
The force of love might not abate,
Jove were too mean a guest.
But now her breach of faith, farre more
Afflicts, than did her scorn before.
Hard fate! to have been once possest,
As victor, of a heart
Atchiev’d with labour, and unrest,
And then forc’d to depart.
If the stout Foe will not resigne
When I besiege a Town,
I lose, but what was never mine;
But he that is cast down
From enjoy’d beauty, feels a woe,
Only deposed Kings can know.
3.2k
I am Shashank Dwivedi
I am always ready
My work is to study
I love my mom and daddy
Saurav Ganguly is my favourite cricketer
I like Sehwag's high crackers
I like making friends
Because friendship is a relation that never ends
Writing poems is my hobby
I enjoy sitting alone in my lobby
I promote Hindu-Muslim unity
Wars for religion is very pitty
I have interest in History
I like reading moral Stories
I also have interest in General knowledge
I want to learn Life at every edge
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 6:20 PM UTC
Needle in the hay stack
The spin of the weather vane
I took a drink of you
And felt heavy to the touch
With my last bit of strength
I split the seed coat
Topsoil coaxing me
*Come here, young one
Come here*
Blue
The first color I have ever known
In awe I watch as birds fly over
Like painted die-cast wind-up toys
The warmth fills me to the brim
Free among unbroken hills
Neither late nor early
But still
On time with the cosmic dance of fire color rain
Earthquake Heartache Lust and pitty
I took a drink of you and blooms sprout from my chest cavity
Sunlight flooding protons upon the hillside
Into my eyes smiling
*A nap on the grass until half-past two
As if I don't have work to do
Important things come and go
They melt away as winter snow
Drink you deeply from life's river
Not even death can make it bitter
**** Erectus
In three piece suit
Dead in a box
Maggot food
A veritable
Carrion drive thru
Just as fate would have it
Do you need
Some
Ketchup packets?*
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
I'm just trying not to feel the need
to ***** myself.
Over & Out
Of the
Poor White Trash Society
class-classy.
I am very much so.
Not my fault.
You think Imma
whore-worth-less
than you.
That's the
Price of being Pretty.
Some "people" are just praying .
That you will play pretend **********
with them,
for the right price.
Of course,
money is alway$ the motive.
So he'll
Flash dat Ca$h
& Dem bling-bling-ring$.
Prayin' he can afford to
Pay, people to pitty play up
on him.
But I don't play or put out.
Anymore.
I am not a **********
$ can't win me over.
You can find someone else
to drink with
or
experiment with.
Whatever you call it.
I'm just going to coast
it riding as the
6th wheel.
Till hell freezes over.
Then can I,
crash,
burn,
& fall
all the way down
the
6th route
till I hit
the
6th exit.
That will
Bring
me
Back into your arms, again.
May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 3:25 PM UTC
Tired of the torment and distruction,
Countless sleepless nights, filled with worry and dred. Home is your shelter where one goes to find refuge,
Shouldn't it be?
Tip toe from room to room,
Finding solitude amongst isolation.
Try to build a safe haven.
**** you for tearing it down, trying to break down these walls that took me my life to build.
You,
You're nothing, worthless, I almost pitty you but that would mean you're worthy of my thoughts.
Hate you? I don't.
Despise you? I don't.
You hold nothing over me, apart from the one I fear for.
How dear you break her and tear her down,
You will never amount to be even half of who she is.
Justice will be served on a silver platter,
You won't see it coming,
I hope then you'll live in fear.
And I'll be able to sleep through the night.
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
Soule of my soule! my Joy, my crown, my friend!
A name which all the rest doth comprehend;
How happy are we now, whose sols are grown,
By an incomparable mixture, One:
Whose well acquainted minds are not as neare
As Love, or vows, or secrets can endeare.
I have no thought but what's to thee reveal'd,
Nor thou desire that is from me conceal'd.
Thy heart locks up my secrets richly set,
And my breast is thy private cabinet.
Thou shedst no teare but what but what my moisture lent,
And if I sigh, it is thy breath is spent.
United thus, what horrour can appeare
Worthy our sorrow, anger, or our feare?
Let the dull world alone to talk and fight
And with their vast ambitions nature fright;
Let them despise so innocent a flame,
While Envy, pride, and faction play their game:
But we by Love sublim'd so high shall rise,
To pitty Kings, and Conquerours despise,
Since we that sacred union have engrost,
Which they and all the sullen world have lost.
2.3k
I'll remember to eat optimism in the morning,
So that way I can **** excellence by evening.
Maybe one day I'll be as lucky
As the dinosaur bones
Found under the ground.
Instead my words will decay
And rot away
Like our atmosphere.
I pitty those in charge, who ****** thousands of humans
For fossil fuels.
And currently,
I am happy.
Because i've already felt everything else.
My face wears no smile,
My eyes don't tell a story.
I have a heart that beats and finger nails that grow.
It seems to be working out just fine,
And to be honest--
I think it always has.
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010 at 10:48 PM UTC
You will be the first and last,
There will never be another.
You will be my Superman,
I will continue to wait.
You will smile at her,
I really shouldn't complain.
A simple text brought the pieces back together,
Took 24 hours before the damage was done again with the pain multiplied.
"I miss you" left such incredible feeling knowing my name had been thought of,
24 hours later my name had to be erased from your thoughts.
True love doesn't keep from desires,
True love enforces them.
If it's someone you miss,
A hug is what you seek.
Never say "I miss you",
If 24 hours will turn to "I'm leaving you."
"Dont worry about it even if I have to go i'll still watch over you, you won't be alone."
Yet walk away in times of agony.
Anger isn't true to me,
I am not angry,
I never will be.
I am merely a fountain,
Tears will flow upon my wishes slowly transforming me from fountain to well.
From fountain to well,
Drowning in my own self pitty.
Never begging for sympathy but always longing your company.
Goodbyes don't sufice,
Hellos won't come by.
The daily trip to an empty mailbox will haunt my existence till death parts me from it.
Letters expected,
None collected.
Smiles anticipated,
None reflected.
Lyrics turned to memories,
Songs become a life story.
In those songs I feel you closer,
In those songs you're here with me.
I must say you are the playlist and the soundtrack to the greatest memories and worst pain to feel.
I am merely a fountain becoming a well,
My tears are for you.
I bid you farewell.
-Kathia Mariana Landeros
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 4:26 AM UTC
You've got a shield to hide behind,
For now.
You've got his eyes locked on you,
For now.
The day will come.
His eyes will widen in realization of your selfish carcas of a personality,
Your shield will dissolve away with your fears beginning to consume your body inch by inch.
And when that day comes you will wish you never stepped a foot on this planet, your worst nightmares will become your dreams.
Succubus will become nothing to what the glass shattered before you will reveal.
No number of ghosts or demons will compare to what your eyes will feast upon the day this world reaches through your chest and clenches the rock of a heart you posses tearing it out of your frail body.
You will sit in a chair strapped as can be and watch as your pebble of a heart is crushed with the hammer of your own self pitty.
Beg for nightmares for they are the least frightening for what will stand your way.
And as your blood runs from the slit in your throat to the paved floors, a smile bigger than sunlight will stare right at you.
Thirsty for blood and no blood tastes more rewarding than the one from the knife which penetrated right through your worthless body of a harlet.
The night the psychopath within will be unleashed to feast on the taste of your selfish, ice cold blood and flesh.
-Kathia Mariana Landeros
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
key words i don't want to use in a poem:
demon,
love,
father,
permeating my insides,
****
*******
****
and every other word that seem to be used by everyone
cliche
including my story
and poetry
and real feelings
tonight i finally realized i was beautiful
in all my glory
in my pain
my lack thereof
my inability to write poetry the past four years despite
watching
and observing
and hoping
and imaging
and picturing
hopelessly
in my inability to feel relatable
in my inability to conform to anything that appears to be a trend
in my safe bubble in my head
in my mother's arms
in my demons
in my loves
in my father
in my permeated insides
in my *****
in my goddamns,
in my *****
in
me.
i am beautiful.
and i will forget, so please
throw compliments and pitty parties
my way
because that's what i've remembered throughout my days
not the night that i was reminded that
poetry empowers me
on a cold night
in new york city
for the first time
when amazing auras of poets,
and women
surrounded me
just another day for them
but not for me
that opened doors i've been trying to figure out how to open for quite some time
this on the last day of march
of women's history month
of the beginning of april
of poetry month
of liberation
of beauty
of me.
i truly felt beautiful today
with help
but not from you.
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 2:12 AM UTC
Tomorrow will be the day,
not today,
happy pitty,
but tomorrow...
Worromot,
things turning upside down,
or inside out I should say.
Inside out, what an appropriate expression.
Tomorrow will be today sometime tomorrow,
and then
I'll be inside out,
I'll be out, my inside will be out,
exposed to the world for them to throw stones at it,
or my dad rather than the world.
But my insides have toughened
they will be a worthy adversary,
I will be a worthy adversary,
She will be a worthy adversary.
She...
Soon.
Worromot.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
In depths of my unfathomable psyche
Submerged I find myself floating around in the ‘shallow’ societal sea of our world.
Oh but it is not ‘shallow’ you’ll see
It is a deep blue ocean that withholds great mystery;
& those who see it as ‘shallow’
Are only those who stand in clouds of constant oblivion; Ceasing the inhale of beauty, intellect, and individuality.
In the depths of my unfathomable psyche
Throughout every passing day
I observe, I listen, and I take into account the things that are done and said by every individual person I come across.
Now here I sit, in the complete abduction of the beautiful, yet merciless monster called insomnia, without fail of corse accompanied by her sister solitude;
& I reflect.
In the depths of my unfathomable psyche
I realize that in order to best express the realization of my reflection…
I must let my walls down; so I will.
And now that I have…
The word to describe the feeling that takes over ‘me’ in this very moment is one that acquires the ability to depict ones exact feelings in a way I do not obtain.
In the depths of my unfathomable psyche
I feel lonely because I know that the odds of me meeting someone as insane as me are slight; yet I feel appreciative because I couldn’t imagine possessing such an ugly, close minded, and indifferent insight.
I feel a type of sadness that could only emerge from a person that fears never getting to experience the comfort that comes from acceptance; yet i feel overwhelming excitement and longing in the midst of my hopeless romantic type daydream of the possibility that I will find my somebody that does not seek to comprehend or figure me out but will accept ever corner and color I currently am and everything I have yet to become
I feel pitty for the average;
Yes I am not sane
Yes I am not average
And yes the depths of my true thoughts I have not learned to control; but my insanity is and will always be the fuel to my potential.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
Its like I sit and watch the world go by cruisng to oldies,
feeling new inside, but outside is a face of a man who will attack if you dont know me.
gut instinct is below me homie, piece of mind,
dont change your words if you cant cash the truth but besides that...
See im not perfect I lost ties and made knots that made me fall from my own tension with no intentions to stand even if I can, I cant, im grounded by my mistakes that relvolve around me, reminding me what I did made me what I am.
AS I stay subsiding in a position thats clearily hiding,
binding my chest compressed against my last breath , to save what little life I have left in a world where title nor status mean nothing when your an ******* to those you called your best interest I do confess im that lowlife as i cruise still music speak to my esscense releiving me for those seconds im just a person again but after that im back at it again
..I dont write for pitty so let that be known, im just here to vent this steam that once stood ablazed passion for a love that is now a shack of memories in my head of your smile and gestures a feeling I onced called home now ruins from what i ruined, foolish I am.
Clueless more than anything to let many so many slip away im the worst fisherman of love.
because I use my soul as bait, and little by little i let the big ones escape an take chunks of me away to a place I can never retrieve it, so believe it im that space
im that vessle ive became the shell of a hermit , hollow and skirmish.
Tarnished, and used,
debri left as rubble to make roads,
but none to pave my own cause I have no resources
cause im that alone....shit,
maybe I can just leave it for those who wish me back if I do something foolish like giveback the life Ive live, for a plaque and a name and a date?
or should I just lookback and keep cruisin passed the bruissin and showin scars of my mistakes as a human,
all I know is....nothing,
and thats why I stay cruissin, freedom of the road and music,
away from the world and my ruins.
-Deep Though aka
Linguist Musician
aka Emmanuel Hernandez
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
As the rain pelts my skin
I try to forget about what you all did
As your foreign hands invaded my body
I regret ever going to that "party"
My friend said it would be fun
That I had nothing to lose
But everything changed
when she left me
with you guys
Your eyes glowed so self-assured
Smiles perfectly polished
Your intentions seemed friendly
But you were all there to demolish
How many girls before me
have fallen into this trap?
Or is it me who will be
alone on this path
Maybe someday you will all have daughters of your own
And get the call saying, "Daddy I can't come home"
Because she is mortified by a choice she didn't make
But was never educated to know it was called ****
For months I have felt broken and battered
I have wallowed in self-pitty
You have all affected every single aspect of my life
Left me with no words
A feeling of constant numbness and anger
I don't know what to do
I feel ruined.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 9:32 PM UTC
Being different wasnt her choice
that she is special,said her maker's voice.
That wasnt the kind of 'special' she thought
through life- with the fact she fought
Always seen in a different way
Never felt special,not even for a day.
Assimilation was a term- to her unknown
nothing but pitty towards her was shown
A knife of the table was taken,
inhaling the last breath-only then she was awaken.
**A new life I shall begin,
in a new body- I will fit in.**
Sep 8, 2011
Sep 8, 2011 at 9:13 AM UTC
further more, further more upon that twisted path
a labyrinth of minds emotions
trying to re
live
the past.
chunks of time taken from inside
memories fasding fast--
in the shadows you try to hide
but the present is where one cannot find;
hidden in what is lost.
Lost lovers, love lives
hiding under covers,
where one should never estimate over
the bridge that builds trust and ships.
Ships that sail across the sand,
so dry and desolate.
Here you take what is not yours,
and embrace the
starving
quiet.
Practicing in the dark,
the curtains have all burned.
A star shoots across the carpet,
and falls
on
to
the
floor.
Desperate faces, lost in the maze,
and nothing is ever going to change
unless you take
that first
step
and then accept
what it is
that they call
death.
May 3, 2010
May 3, 2010 at 10:25 AM UTC
What makes you think
Of temperature change in tomorrow's weather
better just button up your coat
You fill you're self with poisons and complain when you cant breath
****** father, open your eyes to what you have
Nobody's gonna pitty a man who cries for riches with rubies in his hands
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
Life made me mean and I took it out on everyone in sight
I never loved a man on earth and I wouldn't treat 'em right
They told me I looked mighty good; that never made me change
Till I met this wiry cowboy who rode in from the range
This ugly tempered cowboy neglected union dues
He'd sleep with mountain lions when he had the choice to choose
If he wanted sump'm bad--best to say you're the master
He's got more hair upon his chest than a grizzly in Alaska
HE DROVE HIS JACKHAMMER LOVE THROUGH THIS CONCRETE HEART OF MINE
THIS MAN ATE NAILS FOR BREAKFAST; HE COULD SNAP A GEORGIA PINE
BUT HE MADE MY HEART GO PITTY PAT AND THAT'S THE BOTTOM LINE
HE DROVE HIS JACKHAMMER LOVE THROUGH THIS CONCRETE HEART OF MINE
He wouldn't take no sass from me; wouldn't treat me like a lady
He knew that I meant yes when I told that cowpoke maybe
I told him I could love no man so cowboy move along
He told me Honey shut your mouth, and for once I got it wrong
REPEAT
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 5:46 PM UTC
Needle in the hay stack
The spin of the weather vane
I took a drink of you
And felt heavy to the touch
I lay back on my bed and opened up the dark
I woke up dead
Or maybe half alive
I miss the words
That came from your lips
Poems as mystical as a cloud of smoke
I allowed to twist around my fingers
Maybe I thought of them
Maybe not
Words like forests as deep and as dark
You skip from pool to pool of silver moonlight
Beaming through the trees
Singing a song I once heard in a dream
A bird
A whistle
As you snap your fingers
As you tap your foot
You never trip on
The terrible black roots
That reach up like fingers.
Somewhere far away or very near
You picked a flower
And placed it behind your ear
You sit cross legged a minute
As you drink your can of beer on the porch
You say you feel important and high up
Like angels found you and brought you back
To me
How I see the porch light
Reflecting your hair
As you twirled a lock and whispered
Mars is visible tonight
Red and bright
A shooting star
And you wish
On time with the cosmic dance of fire and color and rain
Earthquake Heartache Lust and Pitty
Your eyes glow in every dark alley
Of this sad quiet city
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 1:20 AM UTC
my eyes are not windows to my soul
they are a mirror of yours
not because I want you to love me for someone im not
but because I dont trust you,
or anyone,
to see through.
To see through the tangled web of lies, fear, lonelyness
self hatered and pitty
I don’t want, anybody to see through that.
For somebody to love me after all of that,
well, they must be just as,
well as aweful as me.
I love you because I can see all of you.
I love you because you are scared.
I love you because you know just what to say even when I don’t want to hear it.
I haven’t let you see in yet, but im working on it.
every day I think about losing you,
because Im too afraid to let you love me
so every time we talk,
i tell you a pice of my story.
My eyes are not vindows to my soul
they are a mirror of his, of hers of thiers
Slowly, my mirror is reflecting back on me
showing me that im not as aweful as I feel.
Im also not as great as you say.
But im getting htere
Every time you call me georgous
everytime you remember my favorite song
or word
or color
you remember everything ive ever told you,
even the lies.
Now, you’ve seen it all.
You’ve seen me at my darkest moments,
youve seen me at my lowes points.
You still love me.
My eyes are not a mirror of your soul anymore.
they are windows into mine.
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
The other side of love
The side no one wants to talk about
The side everyone sees as ugly
The side that they call hurtful and painful
The side they blame their own failures on
The side that takes our abuse
And our punishment
And our stupid pride
And our indifference
And our neglect
And our hate for it...
The hurt days of love
The bad months
The horrible lonely years
The cold nights
The armless dreams
Where there is nothing
To hang onto
But the misery of our
Failed attempts
Side of love...
No one stops to look
At it
Feel it
Really feel it
Other side of love
They're too busy
Filling their empty
Souls
With resentment
And anger
And disappointed
For it
Side of love
If they did though
If they stopped
For a moment
Stopped their
Woe is me
Pitty
Loathing
Moment
And listened
And looked
And just felt
The air there
On the
Other side of love
They would feel
And see
And hear
That it is every bit
As beautiful as
Its opposite
That it is nothing
More than the
Exact reflection
Mirror image
Of the absolute
Truth of love
That love
True
Perfect
LOVE
Is
Mad
Mad
Madness
It doesnt have sides
It is always whole
And complete
Full waiting
To be poured out
To needing hands
Empty waiting to
Be filled with
The kindness of
Strangers
Always broken
And always
Unbreakable
Its unexpected
And unexplainable
No reason
And absolute
Sense
The
Answer
To the perplexing
Question
Of life
Answered
Perfectly by being
The question
Of life
Itself
Give into its
Mad
Mad
Madness
And be
Grateful
To have
This chance
To go
Stark
Raving
Lunatic
Crazy
Mad
Through the
Good days
Bad nights
Lonely years
Cold armless
Dreams
Beautiful
Pain of
It all
Life
Let it
Break you
And make
You unbreakable
Be whole
And complete
And be
The
Mad
Mad
Mad
You
You were meant
To be
Go crazy
You
*******
Lunatics
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 1:26 PM UTC
When world becomes a mere place where we fear for life every seconds
When life becomes only lump of flesh and bones with no feelings in it
When human become scant creature of no second thought on humanity
Today when massive plots are drawn not to settle disputes
Instead to **** the brotherhood among the two
Today when pitty mishaps are not forgiven for the mean time
Instead taken as a matter of revenge
Where one has started fetting satisfied on others failure
Where one has started seeing happiness in others pain
Where one has started seeing gain in others life
Where one has started feeling contented on others blood
There we see terror and pain all over
Little kids have started to lose their future at an early age
Young girls have started losing their honor as ashame
Old parents have started being all alone with no desire to live
Lives are taken as easy as a cup of tea now
People are burnt as easy as litting a fire on hay
Humans are shot as easy as playing a toy pistol
Morality,Humanity,Honor,Love,Respect henceforth barely survives
Torment of mind and heart seeks some peace now
If you can't be the reason behind their life you can't even take one
Earn some humanity if not have some mercy.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC
I'm having a pitty party
with an exclusive guest list.
Me is bringing the heartbreak,
the ******** that she can't let go of from her past...
Myself is hosting with alcoholic beverages that I is going to ignore in attempt to do the right thing.
It should be...
Interesting.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC