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Why in Baste Eyes my Form checks expect
Yet cast my Security for his Expense
Which, I suppose, that Report I prefect
Was a File un-welcomed for my Good Sense
Though, I assure, was all to contribute
For his Sweets added to his Nationed Chest
That, to chillax, take Tidbits absolute
And brisk the New Day for his Talent's Best
Now this, resolved to wax Slime and Conflict
Thus put my Loyalty to Terms reset
More fruitful, more pruned, from Pride's Tome inflict
Then this Orrery - strike Rocks to Sky's bet.
In turn perhaps recover from this Fling
On Muted Clouds do those Falcons still Sing.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Ah.. Ah.. Aaron, I said my name,
Least did I expect that this stutter pushed me to shame;
Alalia syllabaris is a defect,
Still worthy enough for a prefect.

That darned laugh, that lost contact,
Shatters all of ‘em within..
‘Tip of the iceberg’ do we show,
The inner lies within; so little you know.

Parodying this isn’t funny, that interludes,
That seriously hurts dudes.

Stop that mock, bear our shock
Let me see how do you fare,
Mark my words because that’s a dare.
Stuttering aka stammering is the only thing which fortifies me. Giving time and suggestions is of no use. Nor is giving a hell of laughter. So stop those weird looks when I  stammer. Love
I guess if I expect those Stars to shine
After feeding you with such Best Fuel
Is too Centered of me; Aplombed in thine
To what a Selfless Course make so cruel
Though divine this Practice be; That for Cause
Will batter my Affairs to your Effect
Love's Stumble Folly of Words be my Boss
And employ me a Slave to your Prefect
Was it too much, then, to ask for a Wage
So my Resources can this Muse refill
Though Blind or Deaf; To ******* your Rage
And tell your Ego what it must Conceal.
Where the Open Mind dies, the Heart begins
And Opens once more to newly-found sins.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Rich Hues Apr 10
He wanted to be an aryan
But wasn't blond enough,
While her lifetime ambition was to be,
Head prefect of Hufflepuff.
He'd never spoken to a girl
He was a beta, not a chad,
And her limited conversation,
Consisted of "Orange man bad"
And having given up on her boyfriends,
She sat on her ******* a lot
Whereas he was a virgineous incel,
If you didn't count his weebo sexbot.

Their relationship wasn't one,
You could describe as "love at first sight",
Because they hooked up with each other on Twitter,
Where they loved to fight together at night.
Note:  I based the 'He'  character on myself and Juliet is my imaginary waifu.  RH.
Sergio Esteban Oct 2018
Nothing matters to me
I might as well be
In a different galaxy
I’m disconnected from reality
I sleep my nights dreaming
I could be someone else
And lose sight of me

I hate my anatomy
Chemical bonds gone wrong
And I choose to dissect
Each and every one
I never lose focus when I criticize
My imperfections
I intend to improve myself
But that won’t change my perception

And there you go
I figure you’re prefect
In every sense of the word
Nothing can stop you
Not even the cosmos themselves

But you’re just like me
A flawed human
In this world full of impurities
We bend like metal
And sway
Wherever the wind takes us

That’s the price we pay
Each and every day
Our insecurities
Hide the best of us
But we wake up in the morning
And continue life

But one thing for sure
We’ll keep fighting  
Until we perish
Life can be beautiful
Never forget it
Derrek Faraday Oct 2018
The human is the subject
The tale, the prefect
The hero’s sternum, stripped away
Naked and bound to be flayed

The gilded wings are neutered
The silver hand, a looter
The loss of death’s pointed sway
Nullified in vain tirades

Give the haggard hero
My anorexic steed
Feed him the head of Nero
And distill his mead

There lies a ***** paper sheet
There begs the tar-kissed feet
There lies the war to be found
Through disbelief in holy ground

There is the gun that beheads a child
There sulks a maid, ragged and mild
There strolls a girl, wed and profound
Though she knows of the **** behind Maker’s Mound

Give the sickened hero
My neurotic nun
Show him his head of Nero
Taketh from thee thy sun
Lloyd Aug 2018
It was probably that smile that caught me,
And your bubbly personality,
It was just the perfect mixture,
And that’s why I fell, I’m sure,

But you weren’t someone that moves gracefully,
Everyone actually considers you downright clumsy,
Reaching class late, still having a smile on your face,
Just entering and any existing shame, I see no trace

I could write something that overpraises you,
Like comparing you to the radiant Sun and how I think it’s true,
Or a flower in some garden, where you shine the brightest,
Very cringy stuff are what I often write, cheesy at best,

Excuse me for being the creepy type of man,
You probably won’t like this, since poems and other stuff you’re not much of a fan,
Often making this poems for you is hard, although I like It,
Understand I’m trying to remove how I feel, but constantly failing to do it,

And even when I fail, know I’m trying my best to,
Not to completely and irrationally fall for you,
Despite that sudden burst of happiness being the reason I feel the way I do,
Somehow I will try slowly becoming distant from you

Okay, finally going back to what I was saying,
Recently though I was just trying to figure out something,
Reasons to why you really look bright through my eye,
Yet I still can’t think of proper answer no matter how hard I try,

To be completely true it’s just how you are overall,
Honestly I think everything about you is what made me fall,
And now I think I’m at the height of what I’m feeling,
Now I’m probably close to its ceiling,

Keeping up with the status quo is the only thing I can do,
You probably will become a distant memory after college is through,
Or someone I can still casually see every once in a blue moon,
Unless I do something about how I feel, I think I should say goodbye soon,

Getting to know someone like you who can face life with a smile so bright,
Oh how great it is that you can still shine in life’s uphill fight,
Over that smile though is still someone that feels depression,
Despite how bright you smile, I think you still feel this crippling sensation,

Because everyone of us is victim to failure’s hold,
Yet I still believe despite the ton of pressure you experience you wouldn’t fold,
Even if the wind feels a little colder, and you feel breathing the air is becoming harder,
I know you won’t suffocate under the stress, you’ll probably even become better,

This poem is getting a bit long so I’ll wrap this up quick,
I have no idea if you have some kind of trick,
That you can just glow like the way you do,
Again it’s cheesy but I wholeheartedly believe it is true,


You may not feel even the slightest of how I feel for you,
And you probably be even annoyed about the things I do,
But for you to change is something I don’t wish,
The imperfect you is the prefect you as crazy as the sound of it is,
Lloyd Aug 2018
It was probably that smile that caught me,
And your bubbly personality,
It was just the perfect mixture,
And that’s why I fell, I’m sure,

But you weren’t someone that moves gracefully,
Everyone actually considers you downright clumsy,
Reaching class late, still having a smile on your face,
Just entering and any existing shame, I see no trace

I could write something that overpraises you,
Like comparing you to the radiant Sun and how I think it’s true,
Or a flower in some garden, where you shine the brightest,
Very cringey stuff are what I often write, cheesy at best,

Excuse me for being the creepy type of man,
You probably won’t like this, since poems and other stuff you’re not much of a fan,
Often making this poems for you is hard, although I like It,
Understand I’m trying to remove how I feel, but constantly failing to do it,

And even when I fail, know I’m trying my best to,
Not fall completely and irrationally fall for you,
Despite that sudden burst of happiness being the reason I feel the way I do,
Somehow I will try slowly becoming distant from you

Okay, finally going back to what I was saying,
Recently though I was just trying to figure out something,
Reasons to why you really look bright through my eye,
Yet I still can’t think of proper answer no matter how hard I try,

To be completely true it’s just how you are overall,
Honestly I think everything about you is what made me fall,
And now I think I’m at the height of what I’m feeling,
Now I’m probably close to its ceiling,

Keeping up with the status quo is the only thing I can do,
You probably will become a distant memory after college is through,
Or someone I can still casually see every once in a blue moon,
Unless I do something about how I feel, I think I should say goodbye soon,

Getting to know someone lie you who can face life with a smile so bright,
Oh how great it is that you can still shine in life’s uphill fight,
Over that smile though is still someone that feels depression,
Despite how bright you smile, I think you still feel this crippling sensation,

Because everyone of us is victim to failure’s hold,
Yet I still believe despite the ton of pressure you experience you wouldn’t fold,
Even if the wind feels a little colder, and you feel breathing the air is becoming harder,
I know you won’t suffocate under the stress, you’ll probably even become better,

This poem is getting a bit long so I’ll wrap this up quick,
I have no idea if you have some kind of trick,
That you can just glow like the way you do,
Again it’s cheesy but I wholeheartedly believe it is true,




You may not feel even the slightest of how I feel for you,
And you probably be even annoyed about the things I do,
But for you to change is something I do not wish,
The imperfect you is the prefect you as crazy as the sound of it is,
First poem published here
Derrek Faraday Oct 2018
In the Plymouth Pass where I have passed
I witness buckles gaining mass
The paper cuts within my brew
Lampoon another step anew

Here lies where my skin was sewn
Wheezing steel, nature-grown
The gasps around my mind can see
The naked yellow tether

Where I have seen my lover last
She kept me in a dress of brass
I long to see the Painted Crew
And eat the early morning dew

Dying’s cheap, dying moans
But living’s false and lies alone
For I believe that there’s a seed
That dares to croon, “forever”

I am strapped to a crown of birds
A shepherd of a mangled herd
We saw the Creviced Brigantine
And dreamt to hear a Byzantine

But speed, it saunters with a lapse
Cleaving instantaneous gaps
Who keeps watch to study time?
I’ll lock my learned head

In mondegreens, I taste a word
That chimes the gong of Lost Kyntire
Delouse the tongue with saccharines
Postcards via magazines

The wheels don’t turn, no, they collapse
Into a delta off the maps
I weep the street with sweat of rhyme
To lose what I have read

Where is Homer’s furrowed lining?
I forget my ink a-shining
The sun berates my slanted sleep
Which leads me to a voidless keep

The ties I twirl have never told
Me money’s green and fakes a fold
This jagged jingle holds a pen
That rakes a love of wealth

My mind is braised and stamped for finding
Reasons for a word’s rescinding
By my sins, I rest on heaps
Of famine-stricken sermon-sheeps

My steel-laced cries have never sold
A penny for my growing old
I decry the breadth of men
Who drink and die to their own health

Christ, I tire of my treads
I sense distaste of the well-fed
Sprouting my depraved behaviour
To find the sport in slaves and saviours

I can’t read with eyes of grain
I can’t draw the dated pane
My limbs belong to Nation Trusts
My child shall have my feet

A Mannish day usurps my bed
As the net that keeps me wed
To depots of deserted paper
And sickened lines of perverse vapour

The printed blue fight to remain
Twenty-four stallions breed to maim
The Court of Mobile states my lust
And treasures it like beets

Berries of the freesome smell
Southtrail deers degrazing hell
I am born to hear the hiss
Of driven serfs endowed with ****

Gratitude is served in rocks
Given life by stale warlocks
Augurs of the larger days
Reducing me to innocence

The Marshall spits a shallow well
Coagulates into a gel
To stress this life, I’d be remiss
And slowly stripped by vicious mist

I should chafe to serve a clock
Which underlines the formless flock
Yet I try to pave my way
To tangible incessance

Vivian Mills, an architect
Loves a state she can’t protect
The walls are hammered willow trees
Mercury arrows, guileless and creased

Edward Crael, a charlatan
Only writes on jars of tin
Where hate is love, rendered stale
And echoes through the past

Lonny Winn, the One Prefect
Cries over a submerged wreck
She feels the transit’s caving knees
And drinks away her soaring pleas

Finnick Gaelan, the Captain
Feels the weight of northern winds
He prays to long for wayward gales
Yet permeates the past

— The End —