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PoserPersona Jul 23
He pulled and parked the supply red wagon,
then climbed the mast to the captain's cabin.
Captain Red is ready for adventure.
A quest to collect the world's best treasure.

His pirate crew is renowned far and wide.
They're rough and tough and they don't ever cry.
But none of them boys has the captain's stuff.
So don't mess with him, man, cause he don't bluff.

This motley crew has achieved many feats,
has never suffered a single defeat,
and has seen the most incredible things:
whales, whirlpools, storms, mermaids, krakens and kings.

"Set sail," squaws the boss as he munches lunch
and the Ocean Destroyer leaves port Wunche.
These rolling green hills are now ocean waves.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.
"Hey Benjamin!" beams the first mate Susanne.
Impeding the journey that just began.
"We already played this game. It's my turn!"
The first mate trumps the captain, Ben will learn.
Her spacesuit crew is renowned far and wide.
They're smart and nice and they don't ever lie.
But none of these girls has commander's stuff.
So don't mess with her, girl, cause she don't bluff.

This brainy crew has achieved many feats,
has never suffered a single defeat,
and has seen the most incredible things:
aliens, black holes, stars, and martian springs.

"Lift off!" beams the boss as she munches lunch
and the Star Chasing Rocket leaves base Wunche.
These rural backyards are now rocky space.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.
"Hey Susanne!" beams the pilot Benjamin.
Impeding the flight before it begins.
"We already played this game. It's my turn!"
The pilot trumps commander, Sue will learn.
Boys and girls grow up and out the front door.
Those children’s games evolve to adult chores;
those kiddy lawns to grandparent’s domain.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.
I need to pretend that I'm dying,
and I don't have much time left to live,
'cause if I don't do what I came here for,
I may miss the one chance I have.

I've seen my friends go in a heartbeat,
their life's purpose still left undone.
Dear God, I don't want that to happen to me!
Help me to sing my own song.

Sometimes I can act like it's nothing,
pretending I never will die.
I want to believe that I'll live here forever--
Why do I insist on this lie?

I know that I've got to keep writing--
it's the gift that my heart longs to give,
and if I have spent my life writing
I won't care so much how long I'll live.

The way that I want to be feeling
when Death comes to take me away
is satisfied that I've finished my work,
that I've said all that I have to say.

I keep getting sidetracked by something--
when I look at it square in the eye
I see it's fear that I''m not good enough
to make a great poem of life.

You know that I want to write deeply
from the spirit of love deep inside.
How can my heart sing when I bury my own
spirit behind fear and pride?

I know that great love and great writing
can flow from You through my heart--
I open it wide, please help me right now
To focus my life and my art.
Written 1998.
Copyright 2011, by Michael S. Simpson. All rights reserved.
clever Sep 16
all my friends all live in pretend
because heaven always has an end.
there are new stars in the sky
and everybody does what they like.
still, god can bless a world full of crime
so maybe he can still save mine.
bliss city
Nyx Aug 28
I like to play myself
Pretend that I'm evil
Create a whole facade
Cunning and lethal

I like to pretend I'm somebody else
A cold manipulative snake
Armed with fatal venom
Conjuring up much heartache

I like to throw myself in harms way
To achieve somebody else goal
A weapon of mass destruction
Its as if I have no soul

I like to act as the fuel to hatred
Target of their raging fury
Vent and break me with all your might
Tho I warn you the end is quite unsavoury

I like to be the victim of the blame
Go on and paint me as the villain
Justify your actions controlled by pain
That way it won't all be in vain

I like to be the madman behind the mess
The bitch, Mastermind, The Monster
Where sins of others pale in comparison
Allowing them to feel far more arrogant

let them be excused for their actions
Which cause them such pains
Allow them to rest at last
Without those heavy chains

By allowing them to believe
That everything was truly my fault
It allows them to sleep peacefully
Securing their truths within a vault

I like to take responsibility of their actions
Pity them and follow them
Become their true friend
All while hating me to the bitter end

They need support more then I
So blame me instead
Don't show me such sorrow filled eyes
I would rather off be dead

I like to play the villain
To lighten their burdens of guilt
I'm a mean selfish witch
No different from a common bitch

By taking pleasure out of such things
That are so incredibly vile
maybe I am the one who needs help
every once in awhile

Maybe I am truly evil
Its not an act

Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
We're awakened to our insatiable longing for heaven
through both beauty and the painful marring of it.
For beauty hints to us of that for which we are truly made,
and its marring shouts that we are truly not meant to find it here.

We can be eternally grateful for beauty lost when we realize
that it's one of the great secret-tellers of the universe.
Still we fear it so and often fear even to hope for the beauty itself,
though they are a necessary cycle that fuels us on and drives us home.

We cannot deny or diminish our intense longing for beauty--
to see it and have it and be it, and we cannot pretend that its
dreadful loss does not press down upon us like a crushing weight.
We must let it crush us until our ache for heaven is excruciating.
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