"preferable" poems
style is the answer to everything --
a fresh way to approach a dull or a
dangerous thing.
to do a dull thing with style
is preferable to doing a dangerous thing
without it.
Joan of Arc had style
John the Baptist
Christ
Socrates
Caesar,
Garcia Lorca.
style is the difference,
a way of doing,
a way of being done.
6 herons standing quietly in a pool of water
or you walking out of the bathroom naked
without seeing
me.
63.3k
Shopping outfashioned hunting and gathering,
Processed beats fresh,
Groceries replaced fruit trees,
Malls superceded forests,
Churches outnumbered temples,
Countries dissolved to territories,
Places devolved to areas,
Paths broke down into highways,
Commodity converted to currency,
Laborers submit to machinery,
Masters engage in humbug,
Apprentices reduced to students,
Knowledge downgraded to education,
And education is deducted to a show of grades,
While schools are the stages,
And the corporate world is the bigger runway,
With work slumped to employment,
Wisdom demoted to profession,
Where in jobs are the only future,
Careers are the only success,
Clicking and pressing buttons are skills,
Computers are correspondent to brains,
Information refers to news reports,
Intelligence means up-to-dateness,
Browsing is preferable to reading,
Studying is in demand more than learning,
Viewing things flashed on screens yields awareness,
Transportation is to traveling,
As buying is to the three basic needs,
And needs embody worldly possessions,
Worldly possessions define happiness,
Happiness is due to selfishness,
Selfishness is traced to the lack of love,
The lack of love draws from the lack of faith,
Because faith stands for religion,
And religion stands for membership,
Where politicians are the gods,
Celebrities are the preachers,
And the preachers are the enemies,
While networking is equal to friendship,
And connection equates to communication,
Experiences require photos,
Memories necessitate uploading,
Souvenirs can be downloaded,
Smartphones are substitute to pets,
Gadgets are toys,
Holding controllers is playing,
Watching TV is exploring the great outdoors,
Internet is recreation,
And technology is a way of life;
While humans are scientists,
Nature is a guinea pig,
And the earth is a laboratory,
Where prices are misidentified for worth,
Processes are miscalculated as progress,
Impoverishment is confused with improvement,
And getting more is mistaken as getting better;
And then we wonder why
Homes have become houses,
Family members have become boarders,
Nations are separate species
Composed of tired and hungry citizens,
Children are monsters
Who are biochemically rascals,
Teenagers are zombies
Whose adventures lead to delinquency,
Adults are robots
Who just clang when touched,
And life is not so simple
As how it is said to be.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 5:40 AM UTC
The golden light shines bright
But does not reach the abyss of my being
Yet.
An Oracle showed me the way;
But it is I,
who must now choose the path I take.
Leaving the insouciance of my place of birth
For the big, beautiful and scary world.
The path is, however, not the end,
What matters most is how the traveller crosses it;
Living for love, wisdom and knowledge,
On a path of tears, joy, and pain;
Is preferable to living for fake happiness
On a path of lies, deceit and sorrows.
The forest is waking up
On the dawn of a new day;
One where I will blossom like the Amaryllis
Until dusk catches up
And fate leaves me forsaken.
But before the slow marching of time
And its eternal sleep
Get to me,
I will make sure to fully live my life,
For one must die to live eternally.
From the dawn of adulthood
To the dusk of my life
I will make sure to get remembered
And to make you mine.
For I believe we share a fate,
A mind,
And a love.
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 9:06 AM UTC
(the phonograph’s voice like a keen spider skipping
quickly over patriotic swill.
The,negress,in the,rocker by the,curb,tipping
and tipping,the flocks of pigeons. And the skil-
ful loneliness,and the rather fat
man in bluishsuspenders half-reading the
Evening Something
in the normal window. and a cat.
A cat waiting for god knows makes me
wonder if i’m alive(eye pries,
not open. Tail stirs.) And the. fire-escapes—
the night. makes me wonder if,if i am
the face of a baby smeared with beautiful jam
or
my invincible Nearness rapes
laughter from your preferable,eyes
6k
when i want inspiration to write poetry
i watch a heaving tempest of kisses
they have a better flavor
than cooking shows
what's prettier than pretty pretty
in pigtails
shaking her delicious
derriere whipped Soufflé?
i'm kissing butter princess
witchy ****
spread lickity splits
eating her
with a big wide **** eating grin
like an open face dagwood
whats more poetic than that hopeful glaring
of
Adonis's plumper in paradise
filling Cleopatra's slathered meringue?
ga-ga-ga-gag me, daddy
merciless, pa-leazze
fluttered big wet talking eyes
like pools of blue honey
getting it zigged zagged
hard against a redraw mouth
throttling fluted gullet
while eager throat gasps
a symphonic music of the spheres
in relentless staccato chokes
lovin her big devil **** splashing
all gym built wonder-boy
a litter of ****** and tongues
licking pig greedy
rapturous milkshake waterfalls
whimpering
mmmmmm
oooh big daddy
oh my ****** god
pillar of colossus
you Tunisian donut you
pierce me like a spoon
through summer guava
who screams like that eating lunch
but a half ate apricot?
better than a football game
I'd rather take her greek
more fun than math or small talk
preferable to a pat on the back at work
or a ridged procession at a funeral
oh beautiful dark fig
squatting crotch candy
bubbling tapioca ***
queen of
spun sugar ****
all pyrotechnics
and fluttering sinews
if you asked most
do they watch ****
they'd grow smug like a senator
or punch you in the mouth
outwardly high-minded
refusing the blessing of a
video **** parade
of pirouetting vaginas
and glistening areolas
for the glory
of the secret ************ ceremony
the *** moralists
only good for a secret ******
living their lives
with passions submerged
and nothing to confess
except for guilty offerings
as they wander through dreamland shopping malls
wanting to know
Victorias ***** little secret
seduced
but not caressed
by
a mouthpiece for castrated dreams
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
In the hours of cold morning mist
Come schizophrenia and creativity's loving tryst
Their offspring
Irrational thoughts of course insist
Madness is preferable to reality
Often desired and endlessly pursued
Come forth
The golden hours of light
The nebulous darkness
Cowers with weakness and fright
Irrational thoughts laughing insist
After much consideration
Madness is preferable to reality
But the night must have its say
Its arrival announced by the falling of the day
Naughty children
Irrational thoughts unyielding insist
Madness is preferable to reality
@ copyright Tammy M Darby October 21, 2018.
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 7:15 AM UTC
I am as I always have been;
Here, just never present.
Easier that way,
For us all,
preferable even.
Certainly tidier.
Clean your mess up! you tell me.
I've tried
I'll try again
I pick up the duster
I open the curtains
But the light creeps in
When I don't want it there at all
And when I don't come home for a while
And when I don't ever leave
The dust finds a way back to it's favourite resting spots.
Clean it yourself!
If you would want it clean.
I wouldn't let you though.
For your benefit, my sweet.
I'm protecting you from all kinds of spiders.
May 18, 2012
May 18, 2012 at 3:28 AM UTC
behind velvet cloth I saw your quail's eggs,
I saw your gentleman's relish too,
protruding as it was,
an Etonian slap to the face of the marmite jar which
it was reluctantly sat next to.
and although the relish would happily admit that
to sit next to marmite was certainly preferable
to finding oneself positioned next to Bovril or Cup-a-Soup,
it certainly was a far cry from the delicatessen counter
he was once accustomed to.
oh the delicatessen!
how the tear ducts performed with nostalgic aplomb
as memories of stuffed vine leaves and caramelised baby shallots
filtered back to the gentleman.
what he'd have given to be back there now,
to once again share the company of proper food,
of handmade chutneys and pickles,
not this common oafish tar.
this brutish black gunk.
'You may not have been factory made'
retorted Marmite,
'or contain E325,'
'but that isn't to say that your place on this shelf
is any more valid than mine.'
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 10:38 AM UTC
My Ideal Man:
1. Watch nerdy movies with me, you'll get my heart quicker if you love Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and superhero movies along with me.
2. Be a Bruins fan please. Or at least a hockey fan, but Bruins is preferable.
3. Be kind. Don't do things just for yourself. If you see someone struggling help them.
4. Be patient. My family and I are nuts, and I'm so sorry about that, but we love with our whole hearts, and you'll never find people who care for you more, or will do anything for you.
5. Tolerate my musical preferences. I listen to quite a wide range of music, so bear with me.
6. When I'm sick, just let me watch a Disney movie, give me space (because when I'm sick I feel far from pretty, and have a tendency to not want to be around people) and I will love you forever.
7. Have faith. You don't have to be ridiculously religious, but believe in heaven and God.
8. Please have a functioning moral compass.
9. Don't question the TV shows I watch. (Ex. Game of Thrones, Project Runway, Friends)
10. Have a good relationship with your parents and siblings.
11. Be a dog lover, I'm going to want dogs when I live with someone (and I'm so sorry we can only get hypoallergenic ones)
12. Accept the fact that I tell my mum almost everything. If I know, likely she will know unless you make it very apparent that you don't want anyone to know.
13. Don't lie. Just don't.
14. Don't cheat. That should be obvious, but I've been through it before and I don't think I could handle it again.
15. Yes I'm a child when it comes to the little things in life. I love ice cream sundaes, coloring, Spongebob, and most adolescent things. Let it be.
16. If you have something bothering you, talk to me. Communication is key and I can't read minds, no matter how hard I try.
17. Be able to laugh at yourself, I do all the time at myself because most of the time I know I'm foolish.
18. Never underestimate snuggling. Unless it's really hot out.
19. Be spontaneous. Lord knows sometimes I do some strange things for no reason, but as long as they bring joy to someone or yourself, then do it.
20. Love with your whole heart.
growing list
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
so i came across
a brand called oriental
in a bag of green crunchy peas
one of my favorite snack
i could have a rack
align in rows of lovely packs
simple ingredients of
green peas, vegetable oil
sugar and salt
flavor enchacer
kept me to munch on it
even when i was little, as a girl
not to forget
super ring cheese snack
under the same brand
oriental
i have tried many other
green peas snacks
but no other have i taste
as flavorsome as this
so i snack and snack
and i snack on it
and i wish that
it will stay as long as i will live
oriental green peas snack
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 7:01 AM UTC
“I know why the heart gets lonely
Every time you give your love away.” (*)
Puts me in mind
Of a man who embodied our eternal, sometimes fruitless search
And why the heart is a lonely hunter.
John Singer, you silently sang,
Of heartbreak and devotion to someone
And the eternal search for those elusive qualities
Those missing puzzle pieces we all look for
Happiness
Acceptance
Love
Always seem out of our grasp
Like a puddle of water
On the sunbaked, summertime highway of our lives
Traveling
Always looking for something
Hunting for anything
To let us know we’re human
We’re loved
But still our lonely hearts search on
“I know why the heart gets lonely
Every time you give your love away.” (*)
The heart is a lonely hunter.
Staring out the window of the bus
Thinking about the ones I love
And wondering if it is all worth it.
I wish I could’ve sat down with you, Mr. Singer,
And compared notes through pantomimes
Written words of your struggles
Maybe I could’ve understood you better than others
Deaf and mute, you
Couldn't communicate with words,
Couldn't hear what other said,
Instead you communicated with looks of compassion
Serenity,
Composure
Masking a single-minded devotion to one person
And you let others who lean on you
Attaching what meaning they may
To the nonverbal cues you say to them.
When some of it wasn’t what you really intended.
Believe me, Mr. Singer.
I know all too well the misunderstandings
That come up in the name of simple love
Or the search for it.
“I know why the heart gets lonely
Every time you give your love away.”
You think you have something special
But does the other person really understand you?
And when others need you, and vice versa,
They fail to see behind the wall masking
Your true heart
What you’re really trying to tell them
And even with the powers of speech and hearing
Would you still have made yourself understood?
Misunderstanding, it’s so easy
Words are woefully inadequate
Because people will see what they want to anyway
They attach their own meanings to the words you say
Mister Singer, I can understand why you blew a hole in your chest
Sometimes that gaping hole is more preferable
To the gaping hole left by a broken, misunderstood heart
“I know why the heart gets lonely
Every time you give your love away.
And if you think that you are only
A shadow in the wind
Blowing around but when
You let somebody in
They might fade away.” (*)
Aug 15, 2011
Aug 15, 2011 at 12:28 PM UTC
If you plant the seeds of love
You'll reap gorgeous flowers of love
And you'll see palm trees of peace
If you spray the seeds of hate
Many plants and trees
Will blossom flowers of hate
And you won't like the fate
Nobody enjoys death and miseries
Ugly, ***** and evil flowers
And people with ill manners
Love is the answer
Hate is a toxic cancer
Be positive and make sense
All the time
Is obviously not a crime
Violence is unacceptable
Peace is divine and preferable
Please use good common sense.
Copyright © May 2017, Hebert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 12:39 AM UTC
wish i could tell you i told you so,
but i didn't.
with each comforting heartbeat,
the only portion of life that's always there for me
we can only leave together.
the edge of my eyesight would blur,
peripherals no longer
i find it preferable that way,
and i saw those stars
which i love but am confused by.
you are one of those stars.
i think i despise you.
you once appeared so paranormal
divine.
now that facade of a goddess
has shattered
and the fresh shards
piercing deep into your innocent flesh and own self
and mine
change how we view one another.
driven by desperation
you've sunk into the deepest
and darkest scale of your unexplored options
now where are you?
inside the remains of that disintegrated facade,
that facade of strength and perfection.
now i see you as i should've from the start.
raindrops of pure lust and stupidity
pour from those clouds of truth and true self
that you rely on so heavily
to conceal and avoid.
however,
once upon a time
did you have such tainted depths?
or was you inner self identical
to your once intact facade
or did your weakness of the moment
allow her to inject you
with her own spreading mixture of
corrupt promise and ruin?
what have you gotten yourself into girl?
should have floated away with me
to the 4th dimension
into a brighter place with genuine promises
where i could have protected you
from your very own unexpected demons
Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 3:07 AM UTC
After countless battles,
We've finally gotten married.
Ours was not a lengthy engagement
If there was even one to begin with.
A long courtship, though.
Skirmish after bloodbath after slaughter
Fighting trolls and giants and the undead
We were comrades
Brothers in arms.
And then a quick confession
A purchased home
That was it.
Now we sleep in on weekends
Slowly wake to the cool darkness of the room
Make love with sleep still frosting our eyes
I serenade you in the cold evenings with my battered lute
As you tend to the crackling hearth
Before tending to my gashes and bruises
Earned from the day's clashes.
This must be what Valhalla feels like --
Coming home to you and a hearty stew
After a long day of fighting
Covered in blood
(Some of them mine)
Loaded down with loot.
Doing this for a lifetime seems preferable
To being High King for eternity.
Dragons may be razing the northern wastes
Savage tribes holding sway in the mountains
Rebels and imperials clashing in the plains
But in here
It's just you and me.
Nothing and no one can enter our sanctuary.
Like you said,
Brief as life can be here,
We have each other.
I may be the Thane of your hold
But you are the Thane of my heart.
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
Desktop In The Charismatic
THEOLOGIAN ESSENCE <[email protected]>
BONE STIRS ....'
ASSEMBLIONAIRE BEYOND MAGICIAN WOLVES
INVISIBLE GRAND OUTPOURING AMNESTY SURROUNDS....'
Desktop In The Charismatic
Dream into refuge all plantation
Dream into cog all wheel
Dream into bracing all consultative
Dream into rocking all regent
Dream into preferable all chariots
Dream into luxurious all absorbs
Dream into contagious all enthusiasm
Dream into communal all welding
Dream into universal all anatomy
Dream into reality all rings
Dream into searchingly all mysteries
Dream into artillery all mechanisms
Dream into colony all proportions
Dream into miracle all compositions
Dream into artistry all pursuit
Dream into alliance all admiral company
Dream into fragrance all new extensions
Dream into vast volume habitation all invests
Dream into carrying devotion all per excellence
Dream into grace-going all shepherd rewarding
Dream into oasis all resuming acquaintance
Dream into cross over all answering wonder.
Your Invades-Of-Veins,
SURETICE TONGUE
Email: [email protected]
Click here to Reply or Forward
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Desktop In The Charismatic
SAMUEL DAVID <[email protected]>
11/9/17
to hydee1982
Desktop In The Charismatic
Dream into refuge all plantation
Dream into cog all wheel
Dream into bracing all consultative
Dream into rocking all regent
Dream into preferable all chariots
Dream into luxurious all absorbs
Dream into contagious all enthusiasm
Dream into communal all welding
Dream into universal all anatomy
Dream into reality all rings
Dream into searchingly all mysteries
Dream into artillery all mechanisms
Dream into colony all proportions
Dream into miracle all compositions
Dream into artistry all pursuit
Dream into alliance all admiral company
Dream into fragrance all new extensions
Dream into vast volume habitation all invests
Dream into carrying devotion all per excellence
Dream into grace-going all shepherd rewarding
Dream into oasis all resuming acquaintance
Dream into cross over all answering wonder.
Your Invades-Of-Veins,
Samuel-David O. Armstrong
Email: [email protected]
+2348131914240
Click here to Reply or Forward
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Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 7:27 AM UTC
My social skills are strong enough
I can live with parties & get togethers
But home is most comfortable
Even though my definition of home is weak
Home is where I can be alone
Certainly preferable
To small talk, oh how I hate small talk!
It's just a long road not worth the walk
Words are me when they are written, not spoken
And I'm the one who prefers to listen
Sit back and watch everyone else go
And I never liked putting labels on things
Too organized, not enough chaos
But as much as I try
My insecure human nature
It loves to name
And it names me an introvert
By the loosest definition
I don't want to name myself anything
I just want to be me
But even 'me' has been dibbed by labels
Not even 'I' is really mine
Because it is shared with everyone else
And the only way I feel better is
Is when I'm alone at 3: 26 a.m.
Where 'I' and 'me' feel like my own
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
if men are divided
as either
sheep or wolves,
then i already know
what is to become of me.
when my time comes,
when the slaughter is nigh,
i will stick out my neck
and tell them,
do it properly.
i am too tired
to do otherwise.
i find it preferable
to end this farce;
life will go on,
with or without sheep;
with or without wolves.
Sep 4, 2022
Sep 4, 2022 at 4:15 AM UTC
Lots of ladies there may be, but I haven't had that many
My **** is always active, and I think I would have any
In the past I could have been, just a bit too picky
The art of wanking I did try, but that left my pants all sticky
Some nice **** I would love, or an **** or three
The fairer *** is preferable, cos there's nothing strange about me
It really doesn't seem that fare, when there are many slags
And lots of ugly fat ****** that say they all want shags
But I can not locate any, I wish there was a way
That I could find a nice gal, and not someone that is gay
Nothing against the Lezzers, I'm just not that way inclined
But I'm fed up with wanking, and I don't want to go blind
I would ***** an old gal, with a big fat rounded ****
A squeezable amount of flesh, inside an **** ****
Big fat ****** are welcome, who want it up their bucket
I would like **** your **** and I'd really love to **** it
An **** I could really try, if only the girls would
******* lots of ***** ***** that could be quite good
A large obese girl I would **** with lots of rolls of fat
I'd stuff my **** inside there **** cos there's nothing wrong with that
Ideal worlds would be good, if you could **** the girls you like
But I will settle for a ***** or a well used ridden bike
Even in a ******** they could be a real good ****
If pussy's are full of ***** I'd still **** your *** filled bag
Maybe I could find an old gal who is a real life *****
I would just think so what, and **** her well used *****
After I have loosened up, her tight old ******* hole
I could have a tighter **** with her **** upon my pole
******** the ladies ******** this is always such a dream
Arses will be filled up, and the cat would get the cream
If you want to get ****** and you find any of this thrilling
Get your ***** and arseholes out, ready for a creamy filling
Come on all you fat slags, I'd like to see you naked
And even you wrinkly old bags, to me nothing is sacred
Your ***** cats are required, and your arses are inclined
Fat slags and old bags are still quite hard to find
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
So they sang
that we paved paradise
and put up a parking lot
but did we really like
living in paradise
with its snakes and bugs
and wild man-eating animals
so instead we have
beautiful Taco Bells
and strip malls
so we should save them
from being turned into trees
and moss
because I am an environmentalist
who thinks that nature should save us
not the other way around
and indoor nature
is to me somewhat preferable
to being outside
in the cold.
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 2:00 AM UTC
Lie to me.
Please for the sake of my sanity.
For my delicate beating heart.
Tell me that you still love me.
Even if it’s a lie, I don’t want to lose you just yet.
Reassure of me of your undying feelings.
Of your beautiful soul that still cares for mine.
Please, please tell me you still love me.
Just one more time, just for one more night.
Meet you downstairs right?
For Friday night adventures, and Saturday morning breakfasts.
Where did it all go?
How did it all vanish like smoke drifting upwards from a tear in the hatch?
I thought that maybe in some alternate timeline,
That we were going to be the perfect match.
I refuse to believe that I’m mistaken, I’m afraid to be.
Terrified really.
My stomach falls to floor, as I sort through the letters
That you sent to my hotel.
Where did that love go?
Say something, or don’t, I suppose.
Is it really that hard? I’m not quite sure I understand.
How is so easy for you to deceive me
and leave me completely stranded and lonely?
I thought you were so gorgeous when
Those words fell from your mouth.
I knew that every single one was
Dipped in deadly poison.
But it didn’t matter in the slightest.
I was determined to interpret your words as truth.
I would believe in whatever you were to say to me,
In some ways it was dangerous. I agree
The way that I was so toxically
And completely dependent on your existence.
The person I used to be,
No longer needs your false histories
But lies cold and empty
Alone, but looking back,
Honestly, it’s preferable
To the company
Of someone like you,
Someone who’s callous and heartless
And above all
A liar.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC
Hope serves the watchful eyes of the tireless observer.
Freight trains of predacious signals burn through the Western hemisphere, misfiring the neurons of walking creativity. Authenticity belongs in the unknown showers of passion. Growing out in billows of lover’s hair. Lost in translation, victories will be claimed in earnest. To failures be honest exploration.
Ignorance will not bind the bees of new springs or the birds of southern departure. I contend for further marching. Bring about the movement. Action stems from desire. To knowledge I lend my contribution, through passion we make this in-land testimony. Behold the passing of butterflies. Many ponder these chances of fate. Decisive will the what-if tragedies be if one could see the reversal of choice, but rain still falls. Events unfold with the consequences of existence.
Knowing the truthful selves of East and West comes at the even pace of diversity. Personality differs as peaceful individuals of preferable serenity work inwardly as the proclamations of the lively bodies of social intrigue light their torches. Jugs of withered grape inebriate the tongues of their mood. Unifying the tangible honesty of exuberated calm. Flows, flowing in rhymes of poetry.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 1:17 AM UTC
You ask in a moment of affection
afraid of any sort of rejection
but your desperation
is volcanic.
Your strangled ********
mangled flesh
is stressed by
over handling.
Blood vessels
over expanding
till there is a little bit
Of blood in your ****
and it is a little sore.
You are tired
of those lonely ejections,
messy ejaculations
that shoot up and over your head
making it hard for you to ***
then go to bed.
Not to mention
you got to be a ************ ninja
in the bathroom or your bedroom
hoping no one catches you.
All that ****** frustration
you’re facing
if you knew ahead of time
perhaps you would find
chemical castration a
more preferable option.
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 9:58 AM UTC
Hope serves the watchful eyes of the tireless observer.
Freight trains of predacious signals burn through the Western hemisphere, misfiring the neurons of walking creativity. Authenticity belongs in the unknown showers of passion. Growing out in billows of lover’s hair. Lost in translation, victories will be claimed in earnest. To failures be honest exploration.
Ignorance will not bind the bees of new springs or the birds of southern departure. I contend for further marching. Bring about the movement. Action stems from desire. To knowledge I lend my contribution, through passion we make this in-land testimony. Behold the passing of butterflies. Many ponder these chances of fate. Decisive will the what-if tragedies be if one could see the reversal of choice, but rain still falls. Events unfold with the consequences of existence.
Knowing the truthful selves of East and West comes at the even pace of diversity. Personality differs as peaceful individuals of preferable serenity work inwardly as the proclamations of the lively bodies of social intrigue light their torches. Jugs of withered grape inebriate the tongues of their mood. Unifying the tangible honesty of exuberated calm. Flows, flowing in rhymes of poetry.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 1:17 AM UTC
If there’s one
thing that I
crave more
than to be
happy, it’s
death
I don’t want
to end things
by my own
hand, but it
would
not be terrible
for it to happen,
whatever the
method may
be
I feel like an
easy and
quick death
would be
preferable to
pain and
endless hurt
and struggles.
All I have now
with this “gift” of
living
is endless and
painful torment
that usually
only belongs in
hell.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC