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"protections" poems
My auspicious and audacious assault augments the annoyance of aged accomplices. My bodacious broadside of boffolas berates and buffaloes bros beneficently. A classy crusade Clownishly chiseling and criticizing childishness. A devilish ********** of dillydallying dullards; devoutly denying dimwits the dulcet dream of defiance. Excessive, exuberant edification, ebulliently eliminating education-evictees. A fair-weather frolic in flippancy with furious fools floundering in flawed foppishness. Gregariously grating glum guys gleefully, growing grander garnishes of gripping gallantry gaily. Heckling hooligans highlights my heavenly humor. Irreverently irking irritable, iniquitous idiots in inestimably infuriating and incredible instances. A jolly, jocular **** joking with jerks. A kreiger kicking kleptomaniacs in the karyotype. (Cut me some slack, this is 'k', after all.) A ludicrous, laughing lambaste of lollygagging lunatics, loftily loosing luscious lunacy on lucky losers. A magnificent masterpiece of malfeasance, a monstrous, malevolent mission of massive misfortune for the minor minors missing no malicious missive. A noxious, narcissistic niggling of nitwits, niftily nixing the noisome naivete of niggardly nobs. An offhand, off-color outburst of outlandish observations to outclass the obnoxious overtures of obsequious offal. A pragmatic prediction of possible platitudes or platypi, a placid parley of pyrotechnic pleasantries provoking Pyrrhic protections by prurient prats. A quixotic quibble quarreling with a queer quarry. Ribald ribbing, ruining the robust reality of the repreachful, repugnant, and rapacious with risque ridiculousness. A silly, slighting slander of sluglike slavishness, succinctly sinking sloppy simpletons sourly. Tracing the titillating talent of towing tyranny to towering terrors to tactless, togless, terrapins of the times.
0
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
Awesome Alliterations
My auspicious and audacious assault augments the annoyance of aged accomplices. My bodacious broadside of boffolas berates and buffaloes bros beneficently. A classy crusade Clownishly chiseling and criticizing childishness. A devilish ********** of dillydallying dullards; devoutly denying dimwits the dulcet dream of defiance. Excessive, exuberant edification, ebulliently eliminating education-evictees. A fair-weather frolic in flippancy with furious fools floundering in flawed foppishness. Gregariously grating glum guys gleefully, growing grander garnishes of gripping gallantry gaily. Heckling hooligans highlights my heavenly humor. Irreverently irking irritable, iniquitous idiots in inestimably infuriating and incredible instances. A jolly, jocular **** joking with jerks. A kreiger kicking kleptomaniacs in the karyotype. (Cut me some slack, this is 'k', after all.) A ludicrous, laughing lambaste of lollygagging lunatics, loftily loosing luscious lunacy on lucky losers. A magnificent masterpiece of malfeasance, a monstrous, malevolent mission of massive misfortune for the minor minors missing no malicious missive. A noxious, narcissistic niggling of nitwits, niftily nixing the noisome naivete of niggardly nobs. An offhand, off-color outburst of outlandish observations to outclass the obnoxious overtures of obsequious offal. A pragmatic prediction of possible platitudes or platypi, a placid parley of pyrotechnic pleasantries provoking Pyrrhic protections by prurient prats. A quixotic quibble quarreling with a queer quarry. Ribald ribbing, ruining the robust reality of the repreachful, repugnant, and rapacious with risque ridiculousness. A silly, slighting slander of sluglike slavishness, succinctly sinking sloppy simpletons sourly. Tracing the titillating talent of towing tyranny to towering terrors to tactless, togless, terrapins of the times.
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20
film. prayer. kittens in a box. serene nudes thrusting the skylight. trinkets in a first floor gift shop lifted by a man dreaming beneath a decompression chamber. a one use snowglobe. ash. hole in a rabbit. a woman who talks once a year to firecrackers. earth on earth. a baby without toes applauded for having two heels. a pregnant person who’s played on god a simple hoax.
0
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 10:17 PM UTC
protections given to the hanging tree
Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man, who the **** are you to say what information the Government gets at the detriment of mankind anyway? Have you forgotten the Bill of Rights? The 'inalienable' rights we all have? Do they even ******* matter? Do they even ******* exist? I guess not. What the **** are they doing pressing this CISPA ******** Unlawful search and seizure of digital information and they don't even care for warrants. Under the guise of National Security you'd have us all put in Camps or killed just like we did to the Japanese all those years ago but we've moved past that... right? Right? I guess not. We just keep it all more secretive now: The people didn't stand for SOPA and surely not for the NDAA so what the **** gives you the idea CISPA will fly, anyway? Maybe if no one heard about it, it would work... Maybe that's what you were counting on. Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man, who the **** are you to say what information the Government gets at the detriment of mankind anyway? **** you, Mr. Politician Man along with your constituents. **** you, Mr. Politician Man and your endorsements. The Fourth Amendment requires due process precluding unjust search and seizure; but where the **** is due process or justice in this proposed search at leisure? You pass new legislation that augments old laws, so much that they don't even need probable cause, but not new rights nor protections for the citizenry, not surprising given your abhorrent deontology: You'd sooner send drones than diplomats. You'd sooner stage attacks than be peaceful. You'd sooner bail out banks than your citizens. You'd sooner pass a law than change your ******* underwear. What the **** gives you an inkling of the notion that a beloved sociopath Politician deserves your ******* devotion if they pull this sort of ethical rescission? Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man, who the **** are you to say what information the Government gets at the detriment of mankind anyway? **** you, Mr. Politician Man along with your constituents. **** you, Mr. Politician Man and your endorsements. **** me, Mr. Politician Man, like you already do behind closed doors. **** me, Mr. Politician Man for ever trusting this accursed system. Well, who the **** are you trusted making legislation, you can't even overcome ******* monetary gravitation. Well, excuse me, Mr. Politician Man, you want the People to become transparent? Well **** you then, Mr. Politician Man we want transparency of Government: I'm sick of not knowing where Tax dollars go, I'm sick of knowing over a quarter goes to the Military which is funny in a deeply ****** up way because I know I may help pay for the drone that might fly overhead and see me and my friends as insurgents and launch an IR missile to blow us to bits, or the bullet that may be sent through my brain as a distant if more probable than ever result of your ******* legislation: And so I say: **** you, Mr. Politician Man, along with your constituents for making this a feasibility; you're supposed to serve the people but you'd rather put the U.S. in a state of futility. So, on behalf of all those you alienate each day, I wish to extend to you a humble and heartfelt Go **** yourself.
0
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man
Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man, who the **** are you to say what information the Government gets at the detriment of mankind anyway? Have you forgotten the Bill of Rights? The 'inalienable' rights we all have? Do they even ******* matter? Do they even ******* exist? I guess not. What the **** are they doing pressing this CISPA ******** Unlawful search and seizure of digital information and they don't even care for warrants. Under the guise of National Security you'd have us all put in Camps or killed just like we did to the Japanese all those years ago but we've moved past that... right? Right? I guess not. We just keep it all more secretive now: The people didn't stand for SOPA and surely not for the NDAA so what the **** gives you the idea CISPA will fly, anyway? Maybe if no one heard about it, it would work... Maybe that's what you were counting on. Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man, who the **** are you to say what information the Government gets at the detriment of mankind anyway? **** you, Mr. Politician Man along with your constituents. **** you, Mr. Politician Man and your endorsements. The Fourth Amendment requires due process precluding unjust search and seizure; but where the **** is due process or justice in this proposed search at leisure? You pass new legislation that augments old laws, so much that they don't even need probable cause, but not new rights nor protections for the citizenry, not surprising given your abhorrent deontology: You'd sooner send drones than diplomats. You'd sooner stage attacks than be peaceful. You'd sooner bail out banks than your citizens. You'd sooner pass a law than change your ******* underwear. What the **** gives you an inkling of the notion that a beloved sociopath Politician deserves your ******* devotion if they pull this sort of ethical rescission? Excuse me, Mr. Politician Man, who the **** are you to say what information the Government gets at the detriment of mankind anyway? **** you, Mr. Politician Man along with your constituents. **** you, Mr. Politician Man and your endorsements. **** me, Mr. Politician Man, like you already do behind closed doors. **** me, Mr. Politician Man for ever trusting this accursed system. Well, who the **** are you trusted making legislation, you can't even overcome ******* monetary gravitation. Well, excuse me, Mr. Politician Man, you want the People to become transparent? Well **** you then, Mr. Politician Man we want transparency of Government: I'm sick of not knowing where Tax dollars go, I'm sick of knowing over a quarter goes to the Military which is funny in a deeply ****** up way because I know I may help pay for the drone that might fly overhead and see me and my friends as insurgents and launch an IR missile to blow us to bits, or the bullet that may be sent through my brain as a distant if more probable than ever result of your ******* legislation: And so I say: **** you, Mr. Politician Man, along with your constituents for making this a feasibility; you're supposed to serve the people but you'd rather put the U.S. in a state of futility. So, on behalf of all those you alienate each day, I wish to extend to you a humble and heartfelt Go **** yourself.
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88
Your intrusion Is conducive To my city burning down So I defend from inside my castle Civilian hordes Wield swords And I've gotta flail In my chain mail My city walls have been manned So use your battering ram And intrude on me Muscle into my muscles And burrow into my bones By disarming my mob While catapults lob Incendiary boulders That protect me from Temporary shoulders That have exploited my nation before Mining the resources from it's core Avoid all the blasts So we can clash In the arena of my mind Where steel strikes time And my defenses Defend me from my life So intrude on me And shatter my protections And shatter my conceptions So intrude on me And break my perceptions But be careful Intrusions have reflections
0
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
Intruder
All energy in the universe revolves around The Dark & The Light. Manifesting itself, Bring vibrations in the atmosphere around not just me but also You. We all our the energy The Dark & The Light. Human by nature, Wiccan by heart. Magic in our hands, Spell in our voices , Protections in our books. We belong to the earth , To not cause harm but to prevent it.
0
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 6:20 AM UTC
Wiccan White Magic
A breath of whispers Cast me to your depths Rolling in that thunder gulch Midnight, why respire? Wake me with a splash Dawn and passive cry for mulch This excessive erosion Secret me your protections Trip wire designating unintended fault A dark of dream scare Toss me in your undulations Sapphire coagulating in that salt
0
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 8:07 AM UTC
Drowning
They come down the road coughing Up beliefs between cigarette drags And slight hesitations of who they are to others. Orange-ish yellow unattractively Embroiders their chests; they've got their protections, Their unambiguous vests. From hazy breakfast drudgery To night's exhausted rapture, The play the same stage, the same lines, the same players. But this is living to them: Shrugging at the future; believing just because; Knowing the store still provides overpriced cigarettes. Their feet rattle on tarry asphalt As their tools swing away. Patterns Are in their hearts, their caged, tamed hearts, Stifling what they want to say. They built the streets I drive on As I fight with my nothingness And I remember they must feel this too, Just as darkly and definitely as the wheel feels the road.
0
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 2:47 PM UTC
Construction Workers on Governor Drive
It’s the billionaire’s coup–Trump, Putin and Musk. They’re bleeding us out, from dawn until dusk. Consumer protections, arts, farms, forestry– the billionaires say they’re not necessary. From the money they save, the tax cuts will come to the billionaires, the millionaires, their daughters and sons. Balance the budget, so they can all have some. So many workers deemed useless and lazy, such as nuclear engineers–whoops! Are they crazy? Shredding all of Congress’s appropriations and thumbing their noses at all other nations. Except Putin’s, because, he’s one of them-- the billionaire’s club of rich white old men, who share dreams of ransacking the whole world, entire, until all of it ends in storms, floods and fire. Then off via SpaceX past the Milky Way’s limits. No, that’s not possible. But deep down they’re dimwits. You can fool some of us, all of the time, You can’t fool us all, and I’ll end this rhyme: We’ll protest, we’ll sue, we’ll go out on strikes. And if the time comes–their heads stuck on pikes.
0
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 12:50 AM UTC
The Billionaire's Coup
working for others makes one poor.. special identity denied one's voice deeply hidden inner beauty suppressed.. livelihoods are exile protections are dear yet servitude keeps rule.. a new time demands correction straightening posture a new discovery.. each of us stands as connector of many and one one's voice found at last exile ended though we.. remain here...
0
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 10:52 PM UTC
serving
Cassandra, I see you in the words of Greta Thunberg: Filled with passion, warnings, truth. Not believed. Cassandra, I see you in the dreams of Calpurnia; warning Caesar, bloodied earth Not believed. Cassandra, I see you in the protections of Tony Stark; made with fear, love Not believed. Did they tell you to smile more? Ask you why you’ve “gotten involved”? Did they belittle your prophecy, Ignore warning after warning? Ignore you? Mad woman, hysterical. You, angered Apollo Or Was he always angry? Did he believe himself so worthy of your love that he cursed not having it? I don’t know. You probably told someone We know how that would have ended, Cassandra, I see you in the testimonies of Christine Blasey Ford, so hurt, pained, strong. Not believed. Were you told to sit quietly, mind your place? When you were attacked was it your body She defended Or Her own desiccated image? Maybe you told the trees of Ajex’s sins, because even if the men listened, A statue protected him from justice. Cassandra, I see you in the words of impassioned protestors so bright, so young. Not believed. Maybe if you told them lies they'd believe the truth. Maybe if you told the truth they'd believe the lies. Believe anything you said. Darling Cassandra possible bride of Apollo. definite belonging of King Agamemnon. Did his children believe you? Are you a warning to women? Love who you are told to. Bow to authority or Never give up. Are you a criticism of men? Demanding of love. Expecting subservience. Justice not served. Cassandra, I see you in myself, the pain they caused the light going out I am not believed. Cassandra, Does it get better? Have you received the peace you so deserve? Or are you still Not believed.
0
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 9:01 PM UTC
Cassandra
Cassandra, I see you in the words of Greta Thunberg: Filled with passion, warnings, truth. Not believed. Cassandra, I see you in the dreams of Calpurnia; warning Caesar, bloodied earth Not believed. Cassandra, I see you in the protections of Tony Stark; made with fear, love Not believed. Did they tell you to smile more? Ask you why you’ve “gotten involved”? Did they belittle your prophecy, Ignore warning after warning? Ignore you? Mad woman, hysterical. You, angered Apollo Or Was he always angry? Did he believe himself so worthy of your love that he cursed not having it? I don’t know. You probably told someone We know how that would have ended, Cassandra, I see you in the testimonies of Christine Blasey Ford, so hurt, pained, strong. Not believed. Were you told to sit quietly, mind your place? When you were attacked was it your body She defended Or Her own desiccated image? Maybe you told the trees of Ajex’s sins, because even if the men listened, A statue protected him from justice. Cassandra, I see you in the words of impassioned protestors so bright, so young. Not believed. Maybe if you told them lies they'd believe the truth. Maybe if you told the truth they'd believe the lies. Believe anything you said. Darling Cassandra possible bride of Apollo. definite belonging of King Agamemnon. Did his children believe you? Are you a warning to women? Love who you are told to. Bow to authority or Never give up. Are you a criticism of men? Demanding of love. Expecting subservience. Justice not served. Cassandra, I see you in myself, the pain they caused the light going out I am not believed. Cassandra, Does it get better? Have you received the peace you so deserve? Or are you still Not believed.
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76
So now the knife has finally drilled through your protections, like a bird with a diamond beak pecking at wood again and again, until it extracts what it was striving towards the whole time. You have brought up your reserve shields, your last line of defense, and who could blame you? Not I, though, like a king protecting his life by building a fortress and then living in its safety, you have seemingly constructed strong walls shutting the world out, until I cannot see you, only the fortress and your warm voice is poorly mimicked by cold echoes from the stone. The world thinks you have locked them out, and yet such is the image you project, like a desert mirage, and I would have sworn it was real, until you let me come closer and I touched you. You are not the coward king, hiding from the world and all that might harm you, no. You are the lion-tamer whose lion has turned rabid, who locks herself in and builds walls and will fight until you are ****** and tired but unrelenting until it is safe for you to open the cage and break down the walls without your lion hurting those you hold dear. You build your concrete walls, you close everything up and you narrow them, until only you and your lion remain and they look like a coffin. My wish for you is not only that you will emerge alive, but that you will not let this be a coffin even a temporary one. Instead let this be your chrysalis. I know you are strong enough to battle and win and finally emerge, triumphant resplendent in new colors, maybe the green-hued rainbow of fading bruises, but still beautiful. The walls will come down and you will slowly reappear, even stronger and ready to fly.
0
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 6:12 AM UTC
December
So now the knife has finally drilled through your protections, like a bird with a diamond beak pecking at wood again and again, until it extracts what it was striving towards the whole time. You have brought up your reserve shields, your last line of defense, and who could blame you? Not I, though, like a king protecting his life by building a fortress and then living in its safety, you have seemingly constructed strong walls shutting the world out, until I cannot see you, only the fortress and your warm voice is poorly mimicked by cold echoes from the stone. The world thinks you have locked them out, and yet such is the image you project, like a desert mirage, and I would have sworn it was real, until you let me come closer and I touched you. You are not the coward king, hiding from the world and all that might harm you, no. You are the lion-tamer whose lion has turned rabid, who locks herself in and builds walls and will fight until you are ****** and tired but unrelenting until it is safe for you to open the cage and break down the walls without your lion hurting those you hold dear. You build your concrete walls, you close everything up and you narrow them, until only you and your lion remain and they look like a coffin. My wish for you is not only that you will emerge alive, but that you will not let this be a coffin even a temporary one. Instead let this be your chrysalis. I know you are strong enough to battle and win and finally emerge, triumphant resplendent in new colors, maybe the green-hued rainbow of fading bruises, but still beautiful. The walls will come down and you will slowly reappear, even stronger and ready to fly.
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58
Unfortunately, faces are no longer as helpful and empathetic as they once were; they have become distorted, crusted over with the grotesqueries of everyday petty exhibitionist nonsense of Existence. Once again, we are at the point where we are faced with the question of who has how much, and who can chop and mow down how much. Unexpected worms and beetles emerge in connection with each human soul, which is also a bit sociopathic, because we always have to bargain with our drunken, weeping self. A deep feeling of nausea and disgust, suppressed in the fever of acquaintance, prevails, and because the relationship with every cozy Mediterranean-style family is a bit fragile, mainly because of the afternoon siesta, dolce vita. Unfortunately, the ancestral bird of unhappiness is always a blood-sucking leech, a bat, while in the dreams of the romantic, unattainable, yellow, urine-smelling cuckoo's eggs; because often, inevitably, people stumble upon small, seemingly indestructible cockroaches and beasts in everyday life, whom it would be better to avoid and not keep in mind. A surprising number of people have been forced to let go of the years of commies that were ordered to be quiet. We now carry within us our intentional carnivorous trap, from which we cannot escape; no one can be nobler or better than anyone else, only a prey animal that can be hunted down, crippled by work, and eviscerated; the blind guides of Existence-fate are no longer the donkey-steps, - but much more manipulative protections, pitiful commodity interests, which are placed in give-and-take positions, packed, and put here and there. It is necessary to beware step by step these days, so that we can still pay the quota fee with dignity and pomp for our eternal childish credulity.
0
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 12:22 AM UTC
COCKROACH DOCTRINE
Unfortunately, faces are no longer as helpful and empathetic as they once were; they have become distorted, crusted over with the grotesqueries of everyday petty exhibitionist nonsense of Existence. Once again, we are at the point where we are faced with the question of who has how much, and who can chop and mow down how much. Unexpected worms and beetles emerge in connection with each human soul, which is also a bit sociopathic, because we always have to bargain with our drunken, weeping self. A deep feeling of nausea and disgust, suppressed in the fever of acquaintance, prevails, and because the relationship with every cozy Mediterranean-style family is a bit fragile, mainly because of the afternoon siesta, dolce vita. Unfortunately, the ancestral bird of unhappiness is always a blood-sucking leech, a bat, while in the dreams of the romantic, unattainable, yellow, urine-smelling cuckoo's eggs; because often, inevitably, people stumble upon small, seemingly indestructible cockroaches and beasts in everyday life, whom it would be better to avoid and not keep in mind. A surprising number of people have been forced to let go of the years of commies that were ordered to be quiet. We now carry within us our intentional carnivorous trap, from which we cannot escape; no one can be nobler or better than anyone else, only a prey animal that can be hunted down, crippled by work, and eviscerated; the blind guides of Existence-fate are no longer the donkey-steps, - but much more manipulative protections, pitiful commodity interests, which are placed in give-and-take positions, packed, and put here and there. It is necessary to beware step by step these days, so that we can still pay the quota fee with dignity and pomp for our eternal childish credulity.
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3
And it's like Every time I fell apart, You were there To patch me up With stitches and bandages. And now, even though I've healed underneath And will not fall apart, Tearing away those protections Still ******* hurts.
0
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 10:41 AM UTC
Gratuitous Breakup Poetry
Did I act any weirder than normal? Recalling dreamy day Picking apples on a ladder What a stupid girl. Made apple jack for you Not talking to me You learning space and time I was learning dream language Dreams are out of control. Much interference. Cota mundi protects loves his wife Protections were set But are broken Afraid of metasphere Afraid to make new metaphors They suggest...
0
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
A Trip to Apple Valley
"FORTUNATE BIRTHDAY" Birthday doesn't only mean aging celebration on earth's surface. But tells how well one has grown wide and bestowed on earth's ground. Obviously she's prosperously come from womb. Her birth was full of fortunes, wishing @Kiki Oshinbajo a propitious birthday. A birthday diluted with protections, peace, and harmony, healthy donkey days. Peaceful Birthday, 'KIKI' #C9fm made up
0
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 6:33 PM UTC
FORTUNATE BIRTHDAY
Her broad leaves yawned wide, fluttering gently in the cool breeze from my window. Younger leaves timidly unfurled beneath the protections of the dark elders. A mass of greens bursting forth from the rich damp earth. So like green flame did she waver, but unlike fire she produced no lasting embers. Stretching forward, upward to where the sky kisses the rain, which falls peacefully to the earth. And waiting patiently for the sky to clear she sighs into the wind.
0
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 6:08 PM UTC
Lily
Without YOU is like A sky without clouds Protections without a shroud A cheater who doesn't lie A zombie who cant die A fourth of July without fireworks A stalker without lurking A violin without its strings One direction without little things A tattoo artist without tattoos An alcoholic without ***** A maze without obstacles And multiple choice questions without options
0
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
Without YOU
Am I a bad guy if I break the rules I don’t like being told what not to do Let me learn … let me experience Your laws are meaningless to me I will find the loopholes I will exploit the flaws in your logic I can’t make myself not It’s my compulsion My need to wear the black hat I will sneak in and see your secrets Your protections can’t stop me I will root you if I desire
0
Nov 19, 2019
Nov 19, 2019 at 10:24 AM UTC
0d3 T0 My H@ck3r 5id3
I’d like to apologize, Say sorry, That you weren’t enough, And sorry, That with your heart I was rough, It is no excuse, That I saw no other choice, But it’s the truth, I listened to protections voice, You might not believe me, And I don’t wish you to, My actions where in the long run, To protect you, You clung so hard, So long, So true, On something, That before it even started was through, I didn’t feel it right you see, To use you for your hospitality, You saw me broken winged, Raw and skinned, And so your heart it bled for me, And me? I was dead you see, Your sympathy it killed me, It scared me away and chilled me, I wanted none of that, None of your sympathy love, And so I had to shove, I couldn’t love you thereof, I lacked anything after him, I had no essence, And with you my patience ran thin, I wanted you to walk away, Forget me, Who your heart at their feet had lay, I trampled it, With carelessness, With anger and incompetence, I never meant to, It was not my plan, But my heart screamed don’t hurt, And my mind screamed be ****** I’m sorry that I hurt you, Pushed you away so hard, I am sorry that I broke you, But I just couldn’t handle it with a heart I barred. I am sorry that I’ll never care as much, Never want what you do, But I have things of my own concern, And as I did so you too must learn, Its sad but true, That you won’t always be loved back, Its pain and tears blue, From a lover where love is lacked.
0
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:20 AM UTC
Sorry from a Lover wher love is Lacked
I wonder if it’s my “morals”, my long-standing beliefs getting in the way, the ones we don’t see eye-to-eye on. The ones that are the only ones we severely disagree on. Except maybe God, but that's best saved for another day. I wonder if it's discomfort whenever I talk of Mai or Heather, and how I crave the bitter tastes they've each given me. The same tastes I ache for when I'm alone in the dead of the night without any sort of repose. I wonder if it's the far-off look in my eyes when my mind wanders off, bleeding internally at the thoughts that poke holes in my steel protections. The memories that shake me right down to my glacial core. I wonder if it's my smile when I actually mean the glimmer that reaches the corners of my eyes. The twinkle that is caused by Heather's similar grin or Maisie's heart-wrenching touch. And I wonder if it's just me, and all my broken bits and pieces, that lead you to make dire decisions and drive you to make vapid actions.
0
Mar 28, 2011
Mar 28, 2011 at 7:37 PM UTC
The Blame Game
I Like many tend to think what I know at the moment is most true, although I like to pretend I believe I know nothing, and use the popularity of the thought, That is what I just said as an excuse for being self-centered. I've become what I've feared. Just like you But maybe you won't- as we are allowed to be different. But we're not I know that I must unchain my mind from my own protections and coping mechanisms, Am I just your coping mechanism? I am not just I. You are not just you. We are everyone else who has ever touched us. What about me? How could I hate you for treating me differently to protect yourself? Simple- people are responsible for their actions! My hate is just protecting myself as well. That's what he wants you to believe I have voices in my head I am not just a voice telling me to be stronger than this, Yes? and they're just as juvenile as I am. Trust me No wiseness of years because they're only as old as I exist. But I'm your friend They want to cocoon me inside and keep me safe but they do not know. I love you. I do not know. But... I do not always know the best answer. Neither do they. Or you. And this I know to be most true.
0
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
A secret: They are you.
Policies defined by the police, homosexuality, corruption by employees. Abuse of the pharmacy - Mom comes from ****** and demons of Azaz. This is the city that the dogs of Moab **** and the land; The accessories are security tools for terrorism. Homosexuality, to the doctor's particular conviction. After the outbreak of the Alhambra. The symptoms of the disease are established and paralysis begins. There are also changes in the city. Female mafia and other ****** Backup copies are protected. Such homosexuality, security device. Emergency options, algebra licenses, favorite editions, Moab city records. Local configurations to protect these devices. The dangers of homosexuality are important. Military circles won: after the wars. In the environment, cancel it. Other Country Country Country Morcha ***** and countries Country Suspicious patterns. Police, employees, prostitutes, merchants, depression, night, the devil says that wine is a city; Average gay, prostitution, prostitution and country. More security improvements. The police of this device protected the fear of homosexuality, the weakness of the faith; hospitals; The post-traumatic problems of the destruction of the devil by the Algerians. Positive changes in the cities ****** and visitors. Young mafia couple. ******* and country The police stopped to ask questions about the police. The danger of decadence, homosexuality, depends on the disease; Common drugs Post-traumatic and air-conditioned problems. Algebra, the evolution of the ********** friends and repairs; Mafia area. Country of prostitution and ****** Additional benefits for the police, homosexuality, veterans protection. Impact drugs after the alsemeera. Satanism after the event. Change of disabled and rebuilt city. Fornicadoresputo and adulterers; The police killed the police, more security. these drugs, corruption, psychology; Alzeihmer is a problem of post-traumatic Satanism. Gypsy Depression The intriguing private attraction that attracts gypsies is like two blind gypsy guards who seek the best possible entertainment in the future. The foundations of the mafia, other police and security forces. Applications, terrorism, homosexuality, faith. Hospitals after his death, The Alhambra had withdrawn from the brothers. Prostitution and violence have changed. Who and the changes in the city. queen of the Mafia, health and the land; Next device. Police wish these catastrophic, catastrophic protections, Homosexuality, security. ************ Emergency situations, algebra, change. Pants and communication of municipal books. Tips - The spaces of prostitution. ****** and Moabitas in the front coverage For diseases and the guards of prostitutes. So Danger the dangers of homosexuality. they are motivated by corruption; The illness Hospital, parasites, other directed products. Employment Women and the gods. of Mordecai. For the moment, we propose. The next source. Of services, homosexuality, Due to corruption to the harmful effects of Come. Of the ****** of Azaz and the demons. This is the city where Moab is located. Love with the ground and other policemen are lost. Improvements, security tools for homosexuality. Of the terrorists, a condemnation especially to the doctor. After the beginning of the Alhambra the relationship between the rooster ***** and paralysis. Start With changes in the city. Mafia female and other copy. The security zones are protected Such A device of the security of homosexuality. Emergency license options, algebraic acceptance. The change that is changing in the city - Moab. It is cut for the protection of these devices. The dangers of homosexuality They are important. The victories won: after the effects Environmental drinks, revoke. Another city of Morcha and his suspicious Country Blood, ****** Cars, and more.
0
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC
ICTU: Blood, ****** & Cars
Policies defined by the police, homosexuality, corruption by employees. Abuse of the pharmacy - Mom comes from ****** and demons of Azaz. This is the city that the dogs of Moab **** and the land; The accessories are security tools for terrorism. Homosexuality, to the doctor's particular conviction. After the outbreak of the Alhambra. The symptoms of the disease are established and paralysis begins. There are also changes in the city. Female mafia and other ****** Backup copies are protected. Such homosexuality, security device. Emergency options, algebra licenses, favorite editions, Moab city records. Local configurations to protect these devices. The dangers of homosexuality are important. Military circles won: after the wars. In the environment, cancel it. Other Country Country Country Morcha ***** and countries Country Suspicious patterns. Police, employees, prostitutes, merchants, depression, night, the devil says that wine is a city; Average gay, prostitution, prostitution and country. More security improvements. The police of this device protected the fear of homosexuality, the weakness of the faith; hospitals; The post-traumatic problems of the destruction of the devil by the Algerians. Positive changes in the cities ****** and visitors. Young mafia couple. ******* and country The police stopped to ask questions about the police. The danger of decadence, homosexuality, depends on the disease; Common drugs Post-traumatic and air-conditioned problems. Algebra, the evolution of the ********** friends and repairs; Mafia area. Country of prostitution and ****** Additional benefits for the police, homosexuality, veterans protection. Impact drugs after the alsemeera. Satanism after the event. Change of disabled and rebuilt city. Fornicadoresputo and adulterers; The police killed the police, more security. these drugs, corruption, psychology; Alzeihmer is a problem of post-traumatic Satanism. Gypsy Depression The intriguing private attraction that attracts gypsies is like two blind gypsy guards who seek the best possible entertainment in the future. The foundations of the mafia, other police and security forces. Applications, terrorism, homosexuality, faith. Hospitals after his death, The Alhambra had withdrawn from the brothers. Prostitution and violence have changed. Who and the changes in the city. queen of the Mafia, health and the land; Next device. Police wish these catastrophic, catastrophic protections, Homosexuality, security. ************ Emergency situations, algebra, change. Pants and communication of municipal books. Tips - The spaces of prostitution. ****** and Moabitas in the front coverage For diseases and the guards of prostitutes. So Danger the dangers of homosexuality. they are motivated by corruption; The illness Hospital, parasites, other directed products. Employment Women and the gods. of Mordecai. For the moment, we propose. The next source. Of services, homosexuality, Due to corruption to the harmful effects of Come. Of the ****** of Azaz and the demons. This is the city where Moab is located. Love with the ground and other policemen are lost. Improvements, security tools for homosexuality. Of the terrorists, a condemnation especially to the doctor. After the beginning of the Alhambra the relationship between the rooster ***** and paralysis. Start With changes in the city. Mafia female and other copy. The security zones are protected Such A device of the security of homosexuality. Emergency license options, algebraic acceptance. The change that is changing in the city - Moab. It is cut for the protection of these devices. The dangers of homosexuality They are important. The victories won: after the effects Environmental drinks, revoke. Another city of Morcha and his suspicious Country Blood, ****** Cars, and more.
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38
Please push me if I linger, and brush away my steps. Leave nothing left for wonder, burn all clutter kept. Let no one hear the echo, let voices move on too. No trails left to follow, sand away the old, like new. Memories once protections, emotions, lows and highs. Reflections and connections, disappear and turn to lies. If I cry and plead regret, don't listen to my fears. I'll find comfort and forget, and go on with my years. Please remove my existence, all presence never there. When I attempt resistance, be as if back is nowhere.
0
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 5:11 AM UTC
Existence
The first time you opened up to me it was through your endless, sapphire eyes. Before that glance, I was sure you weren't interested. After that glance, I found a new room built in my heart. A room decorated in the deep, ocean blue of your eyes. Since that first glance I’ve found myself searching, craving, your thoughts. So far I’ve found these three things in your eyes. Our first glance I saw a shy, demure woman but, one who finds interests in the small forgotten places, the mysteries. A woman who wishes few people to see the jewels she hides inside. A woman who lets her gaze slide, not wanting contact-- but asking for connections, Daring others to knowingly take a leap Into boundless azure eyes that scry a magnanimous future shrouded in lashes. I want to call out! "I see you. I see your true face, individualistic and beautiful." I recognize pieces of you and I answer your call with pieces of myself. Our second glance was the ocean at night under a full Moon-- bright with emotion and lust. You, an Aphrodite of the sea, your body covered in seafoam and pearls. You, An Erato whose story holds men and women enraptured. You reach out through those bedazzling eyes with endearment, and a promise of such ecstasy as to turn Ovid's quill from his paper. I find myself overcome with the want to dive into your azure oceans, to steal that treasure in your depths For myself. Our last glace was infinity-- the intensity of the sun at its zenith. You, an Artemis, bow drawn, Breast exposed, in the heat of the hunt. Your protections triggered, your eyes alight-- their color that of the dawning Sky, cloudless, at the vernal equinox. Pride and confidence, strength and courage, well up and come to bear against an ill-prepared stygian force who has not an inkling of its Thrull fate. I want to know all the pieces of you. I want to explore your substance. I want to lie, entwined, naked, within you and encompassed by you-- holding your gaze searching into each other. Our bodies rocking, sweaty--souls dowsing each other finding pieces that fit and speaking without words. I want to know... I want you...
0
Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 10:52 AM UTC
In your eyes
The first time you opened up to me it was through your endless, sapphire eyes. Before that glance, I was sure you weren't interested. After that glance, I found a new room built in my heart. A room decorated in the deep, ocean blue of your eyes. Since that first glance I’ve found myself searching, craving, your thoughts. So far I’ve found these three things in your eyes. Our first glance I saw a shy, demure woman but, one who finds interests in the small forgotten places, the mysteries. A woman who wishes few people to see the jewels she hides inside. A woman who lets her gaze slide, not wanting contact-- but asking for connections, Daring others to knowingly take a leap Into boundless azure eyes that scry a magnanimous future shrouded in lashes. I want to call out! "I see you. I see your true face, individualistic and beautiful." I recognize pieces of you and I answer your call with pieces of myself. Our second glance was the ocean at night under a full Moon-- bright with emotion and lust. You, an Aphrodite of the sea, your body covered in seafoam and pearls. You, An Erato whose story holds men and women enraptured. You reach out through those bedazzling eyes with endearment, and a promise of such ecstasy as to turn Ovid's quill from his paper. I find myself overcome with the want to dive into your azure oceans, to steal that treasure in your depths For myself. Our last glace was infinity-- the intensity of the sun at its zenith. You, an Artemis, bow drawn, Breast exposed, in the heat of the hunt. Your protections triggered, your eyes alight-- their color that of the dawning Sky, cloudless, at the vernal equinox. Pride and confidence, strength and courage, well up and come to bear against an ill-prepared stygian force who has not an inkling of its Thrull fate. I want to know all the pieces of you. I want to explore your substance. I want to lie, entwined, naked, within you and encompassed by you-- holding your gaze searching into each other. Our bodies rocking, sweaty--souls dowsing each other finding pieces that fit and speaking without words. I want to know... I want you...
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76
I am covered with colors and pretentious protections. It is the first page that people see me as me. These colors are disguised to entice people to see the next page, And would have them stay until the end of it. Seeing that I am in a wonderful shape, someone would try and attempt to see what's next. After seeing and reading it, there are two things that they would certainly do: They leave without finishing it, Or would stay because they want to know how it ends. I build a life believe that happy endings do come true. Revolve in a magical world full of royalties. A dimension in which a ball, a pauper and a prince gets their happy ever after. Growing up with lies of happily ever after, Had me left hanging. Dressing up as a princess, imagining a prince dancing me In the middle of the ball got me wishing of my own happy ending. But then my fairytale had its own ending, It was not happy, it didn't end up with a on a man I call my prince Instead I had to close that childhood storybook, That had me believing on what's meant to be. And live on the cruel world I call reality. I grew up, had my own story to write Had bumps of cliches, a millions of happy but not ever after. A jar full of secret, and a crazy plot that people would laugh at But I am still on the chapter that has a title: "I DON'T WANT TO GROW UP BUT I CAN'T DO ANYTHING BUT GROW UP."
0
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 11:06 PM UTC
Storybook