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"psychos" poems
They call it a 'Class War" They call it a "War of Liberation" whilst its just another instance of white oppression Childish, immature, mean and nasty underachievers like the kid on the beach who kicks over others sandcastle because they are better than the ******* castle he made Like that that uncool dumb teen who scatters the board game because he's now seen that he is losing and cannot win at all like those ugly pimpled friends who would play gooseberry and cock-blockers because  they can't get nice dates of their own like that bitter mad one who will spill ink over your white top or new Trainers because he or she has old and ***** ones They are all from the world of the sicko psychos and damaged talent-less mean, envious, sad pathetic people going nowhere If I can't make it, why should others do and be winners They all graduate to the divisive politics of the ****** losers Power is stopping progress and advancement because they are down Power is bringing achievers and enterprise down they can's gain Power is sabotaging all that is good because they are bad in all Measly fetid minds they plot and conspire in gangrenous network dolts, scums, unwashed losers and rejects of society, bottom feeders Come join the Party, our specialty is chaos and disruption of winners The pathetic jokes of the white West, losers in their own backyards picks on an African who came from disadvantages to better them better educated, more intelligent, cool and stylish in every way pack full of potential, going places they can never go or reach Our sick, mean spirited under-achievers, expert losers and scums crawled on the war-path, riddled with envy, sick with jealousy ruin his progress, oppose and disrupt a black man who doubles efforts to achieve, what if losers try is given to them on a plate What here is done for the greater good, what here is honorable celebrated victories for psychos, racist underachievers I think not peoples power? more sick, tormented, jealous n envious chicanery anarchy jealousy, anarchy shame, anarchy racists, anarchy liars One Single Black achiever demonstrates the inherent strength and grace of our all our Ancestors against sick, persistent white oppression. That's the story here. If its a fair war, why hide and go underground, why fight *****
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May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
They glorify sick sadistic oppression...
They call it a 'Class War" They call it a "War of Liberation" whilst its just another instance of white oppression Childish, immature, mean and nasty underachievers like the kid on the beach who kicks over others sandcastle because they are better than the ******* castle he made Like that that uncool dumb teen who scatters the board game because he's now seen that he is losing and cannot win at all like those ugly pimpled friends who would play gooseberry and cock-blockers because  they can't get nice dates of their own like that bitter mad one who will spill ink over your white top or new Trainers because he or she has old and ***** ones They are all from the world of the sicko psychos and damaged talent-less mean, envious, sad pathetic people going nowhere If I can't make it, why should others do and be winners They all graduate to the divisive politics of the ****** losers Power is stopping progress and advancement because they are down Power is bringing achievers and enterprise down they can's gain Power is sabotaging all that is good because they are bad in all Measly fetid minds they plot and conspire in gangrenous network dolts, scums, unwashed losers and rejects of society, bottom feeders Come join the Party, our specialty is chaos and disruption of winners The pathetic jokes of the white West, losers in their own backyards picks on an African who came from disadvantages to better them better educated, more intelligent, cool and stylish in every way pack full of potential, going places they can never go or reach Our sick, mean spirited under-achievers, expert losers and scums crawled on the war-path, riddled with envy, sick with jealousy ruin his progress, oppose and disrupt a black man who doubles efforts to achieve, what if losers try is given to them on a plate What here is done for the greater good, what here is honorable celebrated victories for psychos, racist underachievers I think not peoples power? more sick, tormented, jealous n envious chicanery anarchy jealousy, anarchy shame, anarchy racists, anarchy liars One Single Black achiever demonstrates the inherent strength and grace of our all our Ancestors against sick, persistent white oppression. That's the story here. If its a fair war, why hide and go underground, why fight *****
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37
Aren't we all just American Psychos? Many of us don't realize that we're all the same. Everyone; we're all alike on the inside. Racism, sexism, calling people gay, and so on... It needs to STOP! Can't you see we're our own worst enemy? American Pyscho; that's what we are if we're Not willing to change. Peace; What is peace again? It's been So long since we've had peace, but we can change. Yes, we can! Stop with Calling people out and acting tough! Here and now, we're in this together. One day, we'll live in peace again. *American ******
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Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 2:06 PM UTC
American ******
Frozen Pond Buried deep under a frozen pond, lies a brunette, red head and a blonde. The brunette lived a simple life, her name was Mary and my first wife. Got married young, at age nineteen, I was a king, she was my queen. Caught her sleeping with my brother, so naturally, I slept with her mother. In the winter we went ice skating, drilled out a hole, while I was awaiting. As she got close, I pushed her in, if only the ***** had a fin. Two years later met a red headed beauty, she was a little nuts and a lot fruity. Ginger was this psychos name, once again my brother was to blame. Caught them in his back seat, he played tricks, she gave him treats. On the frozen pond we took a walk, smashed a hole with a giant rock. Pushed her in till she was under, she screamed louder than Florida thunder. My brother the blonde, his name Jake, loved to go to that frozen lake. Playing hockey with his friends, him and his fancy Mercedes Benz. One day we were passing the puck, a hole in the ice and he got stuck. I said, sorry brother but you deserve, to fall in while I stand and observe. Now my life is complete, girls now know better than to cheat.
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Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
Frozen Pond
They walk aloof among us Three percent of the population They reluctantly dine with us Quietly, stifling their frustration They don't look back as you pass They don't want your conversation Empathy is just an alien concept They focus only on self preservation But here's where it gets strange We worship them with huge salaries We beg them to lead us the way We ignore their blatant deceptiveness We hand them our hard earned pay If they say bail out the banksters Or send your kids to a dubious war We offer them our kids and cash Knowing that they will ask for more Stranger still Our history has been sculpted by them We raise bronze statues proudly in their honor Through our plain idleness and cowardice They can reduce this planet to a nuclear goner "How did this madness occur?" We question Why do psychos run banks and governments Checking world history offers a suggestion To why we (the population) are slaves for rent We are simply afraid of those That successfully navigate life With reckless irresponsibility Unchallenged by others strife It is those destructive characters We plead to take political risks In return for obedience and cash To buy more power and obelisks
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Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
****** Worship
(Sung to Where Have All the Flowers Gone) Where have all the assassins gone, I'm just asking, Where have all the hit-men gone, It wasn't long ago. Where have all the psychos gone, Ones like Sirhan Sirhan, Or a crazy American, Better still, a red Russian. Where have all the agencies gone, I'm just asking, The MI5, the CIA, KGB, Mossad; Where have covert actions gone, When there's a guys like loonie Kim Jong; A psychopathic American, A dictator with no where to run. Where have all our heroes gone, I'm just asking; Where have all our leaders gone, Not so long ago. Where have all fine Presidents gone, Biden was the last good one; When will we ever learn, Ego-maniacs can't govern.
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Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 1:01 PM UTC
Where Have All the Assassins Gone
S. **** and cunning, working the cool steel pole, she finds comforting T. Tricking those into spending their months pay, but others watch her sway and plan a way to R. **** her, of her ****** prowess, and the things that make her human.for they only desire power I. in dominion over her, they lick their lips at the thought P. Planning a way to get to her, but they don't know that she was already P. Planning her escape. By the way the fire started, she rigged the place to be set in flames when the Dj reached her favorite part of her stage song E. Emergency crews arrived to find the place still burning and the fire unable to burn out R. Rain, only lifted her head to the sky as the flames engulfed her, she smiles, watching all the psychos die
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
Stripper
dear friend, trying to participate falling and failing epically perks of being seemingly invisible to the only one you see don't want to wake up on your own so you accept the love you think you deserve put them first and now you know this is how a wallflower grows your friends they see it, live it, breathe it smokey parties and poorly lit rooms synthetic happiness, the only way to get by fragile hopes and dreams you know everyone and no one watching their daily lives happen but nobody stops it takes a second look at your wilting petals and falling leaves below average, psychos together "welcome to the island of misfit toys" somehow a place of belonging and now in this moment, you feel infinite love always,
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Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
perks of being a wallflower
The Time For Humanity To Mature Has Not & Would Never Come. Read on - be intrigued. Now that I believe for a long time after I attained the age of 22 years on 23rd December, 2012. Many of the spiritual literature pieces are just contradictory to themselves, why would HE let the occurence of any trouble then and hold only the other end of a jittery life helping us cross to the other end safe & fine? If you would excuse this question saying "HE can never be questioned and HE alone is the destructor & the creator," then it's just a desperate excuse which you hold to considering theism as flawless & unquestionable, me & any similar people as psychos, or perhaps losers. I don't discourage theism nor do I encourage anybody to share similar thoughts as mine, but I myself don't encourage idling over the concept of the special spiritual unseen power. I agree that some phenomena like love, kindness, greed, lust & hatred can't ever just be scientifically explained in total completeness by just citing some natural laws of nature or physics. But then again why do we often indispensably need that imaginary hand above our heads for protection or more than often have to spend money in praise of the imaginary hand above our heads? Any mention about theists' escapist nature would be countered by their many statements of the following kind: o Us theists, we don't escape problems, we just gather courage when we have identified a problem in our lives by remembering the imaginary hand above our heads sheltering us from all troubles and then tackle the problem with enough strength. o Theism does neither lack anything divinity nor does it lack even anything evil, both of them are manmade concepts, the world was created as a perfect place for the existence of human race. o Instead of just leaving us all alone in this troublesome world, He has sent few of His men and we can blindly follow them to resolve our own specific troubles with solutions ideated around age-old books written by great men and we don't need anybody to question our faith wherever it is.
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Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
A Spiritual Article: Has Humanity Not Matured Yet?
The Time For Humanity To Mature Has Not & Would Never Come. Read on - be intrigued. Now that I believe for a long time after I attained the age of 22 years on 23rd December, 2012. Many of the spiritual literature pieces are just contradictory to themselves, why would HE let the occurence of any trouble then and hold only the other end of a jittery life helping us cross to the other end safe & fine? If you would excuse this question saying "HE can never be questioned and HE alone is the destructor & the creator," then it's just a desperate excuse which you hold to considering theism as flawless & unquestionable, me & any similar people as psychos, or perhaps losers. I don't discourage theism nor do I encourage anybody to share similar thoughts as mine, but I myself don't encourage idling over the concept of the special spiritual unseen power. I agree that some phenomena like love, kindness, greed, lust & hatred can't ever just be scientifically explained in total completeness by just citing some natural laws of nature or physics. But then again why do we often indispensably need that imaginary hand above our heads for protection or more than often have to spend money in praise of the imaginary hand above our heads? Any mention about theists' escapist nature would be countered by their many statements of the following kind: o Us theists, we don't escape problems, we just gather courage when we have identified a problem in our lives by remembering the imaginary hand above our heads sheltering us from all troubles and then tackle the problem with enough strength. o Theism does neither lack anything divinity nor does it lack even anything evil, both of them are manmade concepts, the world was created as a perfect place for the existence of human race. o Instead of just leaving us all alone in this troublesome world, He has sent few of His men and we can blindly follow them to resolve our own specific troubles with solutions ideated around age-old books written by great men and we don't need anybody to question our faith wherever it is.
Continue reading...
9
a forest grows roots in my scalp a baby touches the soft short bits and laughs like there is no greater delight in her world my spirit swells in her beams i walk shoulders forward collar popped half-sneer that says “yeah that’s right i’m a badass” nobody sits next to me on the bus once this bleach-blonde spent half an hour worrying nail-biting, foot-tapping worry before setting the clippers to my head like she might hurt me i intimidate the thing in me that is vulnerable staple a wig to it, put it in a dress build it safe bridges out of my body so that on the street the people who do manage to worm their grubby fingers through the cracks are ************* psychos and i can imagine driving their nose up through their brain without feeling guilty or shameful even though that is scientifically impossible due to the density of bone and this charred twisted gargoyle on my shoulder who tells lies as long as the mississippi like “you deserve this **** on really bad days my hair turns and shouts “back the **** up gargoyle! you make no ******* sense!” even when i decide to trim it when i’m ****** out of my tree on sudafed and haven’t eaten solids in five days and it looks like, well, this i am a magnificent peacock swanning down the street and everyone is a little bit better for having walked through my glow now if only i could make eye contact with the cute **** on the bus
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May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 8:41 PM UTC
cloak of invincibility
Woke up from the American Dream      Hungover      Hellbent on reality After I saw the worst minds of my generation       Destroy with their madness       Rather than exploit their demons They shot them in the heart with anti-depressants      and let them wake up      dead to ambition They prescribed me like you      Withdrawal made me like me      GOD MODE ON Just reach for the sun we're touched by       Fire in the mind.       Controlled flame I am American Madness      Mommy's little monster gone manic      Mood swinging from the right intentions I am American Madness      Jumping this shark with the high horse I rode in on      Saving my country from soapbox to soapbox I am American Madness      The revolution in our minds manifested      standing up for something un-televised The psychos in sheep clothing      Lycanthropy at the right time      Letting out our own Howl Standing present        Our hands are red white and blue in guilt.        With the ghosts that we're dragging from past lives Tearing the throat out of         the things we can run                 but can't hide Fighting off our demons Transmuting the nightmares Caught in the American dream catcher. We could be the champions of the oppressed       Crossing the first threshold      We all come back around together © kenHeike, 2k13
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Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
I Am American Madness: God Mode On (Anti-Hero Origins Pt. 1)
danke, und scheiße geruch um beachten! (if ungrammatical then ensure you do not waver to correct me, but speak as correctly as possible and leave me to my insolence and gratify my mistake as championing your correctness, at least thus i'll be glad to make you see what i too wanted to see with my imperfection the suggestive). western society has taught me that i'd be better off not having educated myself - and that reading philosophical books is considered a mental illness; such heightened literacy rates i almost clamour to buckle in marking journalism a synonym of propaganda. no, of course i'm not happy where i live, i what's deemed a civilisation or an exportable social model, a place where you say the word Kierkegaard and people think you've said gonorrhea, so the French kiss outlasts oral *** - tongue here, tongue there, tongue up your *** you're a credible ****** should it matter, while all the menial tasks for the unruly have been exported to made in China - i ****** Poland for ever wanting to join the E.U., thank god they didn't adopt the failed Euro currency - the diversity of the project would always fail - no slingshot Indians or bow & arrow akin mattered when the other Indians gave us the Taj Mahal... wise too i would be as an Ewok... and a Vindaloo... wait a minute, why am i writing like a reformist coloniser? i've been duped! i learn the english tongue i suddenly become nothing less than a coloniser myself; might as well be a viking in york or a norman at the battle of Hastings! otherwise i'm a concubine on a mechanised dildo-throne while the irish are Yuppie with psychos of american Wolf St. scenarios awaiting the 1980s discography of a lucid John Peel commentary.
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Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 8:18 PM UTC
hallo realität!
danke, und scheiße geruch um beachten! (if ungrammatical then ensure you do not waver to correct me, but speak as correctly as possible and leave me to my insolence and gratify my mistake as championing your correctness, at least thus i'll be glad to make you see what i too wanted to see with my imperfection the suggestive). western society has taught me that i'd be better off not having educated myself - and that reading philosophical books is considered a mental illness; such heightened literacy rates i almost clamour to buckle in marking journalism a synonym of propaganda. no, of course i'm not happy where i live, i what's deemed a civilisation or an exportable social model, a place where you say the word Kierkegaard and people think you've said gonorrhea, so the French kiss outlasts oral *** - tongue here, tongue there, tongue up your *** you're a credible ****** should it matter, while all the menial tasks for the unruly have been exported to made in China - i ****** Poland for ever wanting to join the E.U., thank god they didn't adopt the failed Euro currency - the diversity of the project would always fail - no slingshot Indians or bow & arrow akin mattered when the other Indians gave us the Taj Mahal... wise too i would be as an Ewok... and a Vindaloo... wait a minute, why am i writing like a reformist coloniser? i've been duped! i learn the english tongue i suddenly become nothing less than a coloniser myself; might as well be a viking in york or a norman at the battle of Hastings! otherwise i'm a concubine on a mechanised dildo-throne while the irish are Yuppie with psychos of american Wolf St. scenarios awaiting the 1980s discography of a lucid John Peel commentary.
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37
Glowing Windows embedded into mouldy brick walls Ivy climbing the gutters of neighbourhood roofs Skies becoming burnt out like charred blackened fields Tall spiny trees project shadows onto the road below Leaves curl up to receive some weakening light from above A formation of sputtering cars cling to each turn they decide to make Cloudy milky light bounces off faulty windows that exhale the aroma of somebodies impending supper A heavy truck manoeuvres itself into the blistered bitumen horizon Dry deflated branches make obscene gestures towards passers-by Gardeners rummage through their bags as they near the end of their working day Their faces filled with an expired enthusiasm for breathing Parked hunks of metal pelted with dead itchy leaves Windscreen wipers hold fragile twigs down against grotty neglected glass Chain-link fences link disparate housing and the sleeping people within Some dispirited unsatisfied psychos gaze up as they catch a moving bus Smoky Incense billows down from some apartment balcony The air becomes cold and sharply fills these ordinary streets Engine sounds try to supress the divine quietness They only merge into it Now the stars are out and about Bright specks waddling in an aerial pool of dark blue You turn the key and walk through the front door
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Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 11:24 AM UTC
The Corner Near a Bus Stop
It's ******* terrifying Like one half of your brain is tearing away from the other Nothing is in your control anymore Scream, cry, ******* kick a wall It's always the same Not knowing which way you're gonna fall When you can't make up your mind And its one or the other but you can't pick YOU WONT Because it's not something you can do The most BASIC decisions you will make in a day Are the hardest decisions you'll ever overthink Everything.... Is too much We're all psychos We are all beyond help Because we are an anxiety, depression trodden society And it all comes down to the unknown And that's ******* terrifying
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 5:54 AM UTC
******* Terrifying
If you aren't stressed or depressed They are gonna treat you less. So shut up about how you're so ******* Blessed. Like sorry im happy, And my life is alright, Am I gonna lose my fans Cause my  brain is skewed on right? I don't see how this could be a fair fight, And I think- what would my idols do? But even further they've developed mental illnesses too! Like we're all looking to be biggest threat, To be the most disturbed person you've Ever met. Cause it's poetic and dark, And I wanna feel deep. And this positive **** isn't gonna raise a peep. So I gotta take a jump of faith or some kinda leap. So I can be who you psychos what me to be! Like it's easy, The sadness enticing, Will help me rhyme better, Or flow more lyrically. Like this is my new style. Give me a minute to think... Fill my silence with your laughter and childish chatter As I make myself fall off sanities brink. Because what really matters When all you want is hype in twitter? And to look thoughtful among All your so called haters? But your life is perfect... And you want more, So you you act like it's less, So you feel indie and on media adored. Like maybe you picked up your Life's passion off the clearance rack in a grocery store. Lol. But as long as you're not okay! You know kids be acting fake trying to get some internet love Posting pictures probably faking gay Or posting some scars like white girls have it so hard. All I'm saying is that this according to this  generation You have to be broken to get some attention. And its kinda twisted we gotta feel down So that we can get lifted.
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
Generation z
If you aren't stressed or depressed They are gonna treat you less. So shut up about how you're so ******* Blessed. Like sorry im happy, And my life is alright, Am I gonna lose my fans Cause my  brain is skewed on right? I don't see how this could be a fair fight, And I think- what would my idols do? But even further they've developed mental illnesses too! Like we're all looking to be biggest threat, To be the most disturbed person you've Ever met. Cause it's poetic and dark, And I wanna feel deep. And this positive **** isn't gonna raise a peep. So I gotta take a jump of faith or some kinda leap. So I can be who you psychos what me to be! Like it's easy, The sadness enticing, Will help me rhyme better, Or flow more lyrically. Like this is my new style. Give me a minute to think... Fill my silence with your laughter and childish chatter As I make myself fall off sanities brink. Because what really matters When all you want is hype in twitter? And to look thoughtful among All your so called haters? But your life is perfect... And you want more, So you you act like it's less, So you feel indie and on media adored. Like maybe you picked up your Life's passion off the clearance rack in a grocery store. Lol. But as long as you're not okay! You know kids be acting fake trying to get some internet love Posting pictures probably faking gay Or posting some scars like white girls have it so hard. All I'm saying is that this according to this  generation You have to be broken to get some attention. And its kinda twisted we gotta feel down So that we can get lifted.
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46
i am ******* dying to be something other than a ***** hiding from her own shadow, twisting herself up in senseless wants maybe if i tattoo my skin or gauge my earlobes or pierce my nose or wear band t-shirts no one's heard of or go to shows and head bang alone, then, yes, then, i will be unique, oh **** there's a tumblr for that, actually, there are a thousand tumblrs for that, moving on... how about i try wearing black and hiding from the light, pulling away until i only come out at night, speaking to no one but the notebook i carry everywhere with me, ah, **** that's been done too here, here, how about this, i'll enter the mainstream, get my degree, even work a job from seven to three, marry a **** bag with no sense of life, have some kids, and pretend i take joy in being a wife, and then, when i'm having his colleagues over for dinner, i'll lose it and **** them all with a butcher knife as i backflip over our ten thousand dollar dining room set they'll oooh and aaah, and somehow forget, that i'm ending their mediocrity, instead they'll think, what yoga studio did she join? her legs are so much more defined than mine and as they all lay bleeding out over their steak tartar, i will smile and smooth my perfect blonde hair, and wait to join the leagues of the unforgettable
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Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 2:00 PM UTC
even psychos have american dreams
CJ attack you from the metronome Catch you in your groove home alone Blowin wit the chrome Im blowin to the bone My title be known.. cannibal.. dynamical maestro Sparked and fully hydroed my team of psychos Sell it higher than the Eifel Towers Seconds minutes led the hour.. wein the power Spittin bibles..the sunshower.. the wise out on the scene They think we forget the dream My aura sheens like morphine in your veins Pastors saying can you and your crew.. oooh stand the rain Many men possess the gin in the jungle of sin Deeper than.. Sum chosen others frozen From the explosion, my opposition Protect my team of demolitions, full competition Keep em drinkin Benjin Like some chicken heads on the ground Bite the trey pound for foes that wanna get down Me and my clique sharpen the sound Infiltrate the town
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Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 4:50 AM UTC
gangsterrrrr!
They pull the strings behind the scenes, they think themselves queens and kings controlling everything. And we're the poor pawns that fawn on and on and on, day to day, from dusk til dawn. We need to stop the cycle. No, we HAVE to stop this cycle. Get off the bike, though, we might not like to, Because we're prisoners and though we're lacking actual shackles, our rights are *** backwards, and the rulers are money-hungry psychos. We the people pay the price, The price for living paid in pain and constant suffering, Nothing's really what it Seems, And no one Sees because We numb ourselves through drugs and Vicodins, Pill-poppers, downers, uppers, Blunt-puffers, paint huffers, Wrist cutters, coke snuffers, Methamphetamine intravenously-injecting stupid ************* Drug smugglers, crack stuffers, Mother struggles, baby suffers, Speed lovers, glass crushers, We numb it all so no one bothers. but sitting comfy at the summit, Watching the planet plummet, Are the ones pulling the strings behind the show. The ones without a soul. The ones behind it all, yet few of us do know. It's time we all wake up, stop confirming to the rules, it's time we cut these strings and put the people in control.
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Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 8:05 PM UTC
The World's a Stage and...
What do you do when you feel so alone? The black pitch of night and a feeling, like a chill down your back A premonition something, isn't right Each shadow contorts Each noise becomes suspicious Villains with their cohorts Show they are truly evil, and vicious Prowling creatures, on the lawn Psychos and Killers, lurk in the hall Spiraling nightmares begin to spawn But none can compare, to the worst of them all The truth that lies behind the fear The cause of the goosebumps on your neck The taunting whispers in your ear And those things, that make you a wreck They are not the noises, or the shadows No not the creatures on the lawn, For they do not exist. And tonight you are safe, the killers left you off their list The nightmares that lurk inside your head Can all be explained by the note you read The truth, they say will set you free But ignorance is truly bliss indeed A haunting fact, that follows you Forever and always it will be true The life you thought you once knew Was just a fabrication, someone drew
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Aug 23, 2011
Aug 23, 2011 at 11:38 PM UTC
Fabrication
We fight each day Crying out to nature Like the psychos We all are, We want redemption From the evil that Lay in the closet But we do not accept the Fact that the darkness That is formed deep within Our soul, Is eating away at the Goodness The peace The happiness That consumes our mind. We are humans after all We are the two sides to Every story.
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May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
Humans
I'm falling through the looking glass, not really knowing, That the world's spinning past and everything's growing, There's a rabbit and I gasp for he seems to be glowing, Tell's me time's moving too fast and I ought to get going, There's a cat that I can't see except his twisting smile, And he's been haunting me and hunting me for mile upon mile, I keep my mind off that grin but I know I'm in denial, Then my head starts to spin and I'm gone for a while, Not to my surprise, I find this place is taking it's toll, Then before my eyes, I'm crying, losing control, Trying to claw at the dirt, falling down the rabbit hole, Feeling nothing but hurt and a fear for my soul, This is my role, living to entertain, Cake and champagne, drinking tea with the insane, Smeared against the pain is the smile that I feign, It's a colourful country but my colour has drained, Turning blue like my lips, like a vein, like the chatter, With all of these psychos God knows who's the Mad Hatter, A mouse, hare, a man, and I'm guessing the latter, Then my images shatter, a woman dressed in red, My heart is a **** in her lover's bed, Two colours clash and I'm sure I am dead, Red royalty laughs and screams "off with her head", But I have not sinned, I have not marred, I will not be scarred by the Red Queen's guard, I am the wind in the houses of card, The joker you treated with disregard, This land's full of wonder but that wonder is callous, I will bring down the blood stained palace, Felling diamonds and spades with a purebred malice, I win, for I am, the Ace of Alice.
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Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
Ace of Alice
I'm falling through the looking glass, not really knowing, That the world's spinning past and everything's growing, There's a rabbit and I gasp for he seems to be glowing, Tell's me time's moving too fast and I ought to get going, There's a cat that I can't see except his twisting smile, And he's been haunting me and hunting me for mile upon mile, I keep my mind off that grin but I know I'm in denial, Then my head starts to spin and I'm gone for a while, Not to my surprise, I find this place is taking it's toll, Then before my eyes, I'm crying, losing control, Trying to claw at the dirt, falling down the rabbit hole, Feeling nothing but hurt and a fear for my soul, This is my role, living to entertain, Cake and champagne, drinking tea with the insane, Smeared against the pain is the smile that I feign, It's a colourful country but my colour has drained, Turning blue like my lips, like a vein, like the chatter, With all of these psychos God knows who's the Mad Hatter, A mouse, hare, a man, and I'm guessing the latter, Then my images shatter, a woman dressed in red, My heart is a **** in her lover's bed, Two colours clash and I'm sure I am dead, Red royalty laughs and screams "off with her head", But I have not sinned, I have not marred, I will not be scarred by the Red Queen's guard, I am the wind in the houses of card, The joker you treated with disregard, This land's full of wonder but that wonder is callous, I will bring down the blood stained palace, Felling diamonds and spades with a purebred malice, I win, for I am, the Ace of Alice.
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the 19th SCHOOL shooting in the USA in 48 days the gun lobby is lying low the president      surprise avoids a straight comment 17 school children dead because in the land of the free any psychopath can buy a semiautomatic without problems and vent his frustrations and fears in a shooting spree home schooling is on the rise for better or worse what do you call a president who is unwilling     or unable     to protect the health and security of his people? LOSER!!!
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Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 3:10 PM UTC
targets for psychos (apropos the terrible school massacre in Parkland, FL, February 2018)
The intelligent observer says; 'Isn't it curious how their shrill centers round this phantom love affair' You mean the 'Pick on a **** psychos, them paid hire a hooligan mob uk racists criminals Yes, I dare say, they write chapter and verse about some one you never even kissed, some one who is just another pawn, a poor victim of circumstance. caught in a web unknown to her. Yeah, I do feel sorry for the poor thing The sad thing though with these backwards racists and their devotees....hahaha...more their victims perhaps is how hate governs minds and the psychology behind it all. It all stems from ***** Envy and fear, yes, its really as basic and simply as that. They hate you and do all these imbecilic nonsense because they really feel threatened by you. This love angle skit they play is Freudian. Your big manhood emasculate them, your standing challenges them and you reflect that, which they can never be. Do you know their greatest fear has become seeing you use that 'fearsome weapon' they know how effective it is and how they don't compare. That's why they get their jollies from manufacturing a situation and then opposing it. Creating delusions to absolve their complexes. Typical Narcissistic ****** behavior. Why are you laughing, do you know how many unfortunate black men have died because of this, ***** envy kills Hahaha...I should get a tee-shirt with that slogan on You're not taking this very serious, are you? No, I don't take things beneath CONTEMPT seriously.... Let's feel sorry for them, why should I give head space to *******
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May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 8:24 AM UTC
That Conversation.........
The intelligent observer says; 'Isn't it curious how their shrill centers round this phantom love affair' You mean the 'Pick on a **** psychos, them paid hire a hooligan mob uk racists criminals Yes, I dare say, they write chapter and verse about some one you never even kissed, some one who is just another pawn, a poor victim of circumstance. caught in a web unknown to her. Yeah, I do feel sorry for the poor thing The sad thing though with these backwards racists and their devotees....hahaha...more their victims perhaps is how hate governs minds and the psychology behind it all. It all stems from ***** Envy and fear, yes, its really as basic and simply as that. They hate you and do all these imbecilic nonsense because they really feel threatened by you. This love angle skit they play is Freudian. Your big manhood emasculate them, your standing challenges them and you reflect that, which they can never be. Do you know their greatest fear has become seeing you use that 'fearsome weapon' they know how effective it is and how they don't compare. That's why they get their jollies from manufacturing a situation and then opposing it. Creating delusions to absolve their complexes. Typical Narcissistic ****** behavior. Why are you laughing, do you know how many unfortunate black men have died because of this, ***** envy kills Hahaha...I should get a tee-shirt with that slogan on You're not taking this very serious, are you? No, I don't take things beneath CONTEMPT seriously.... Let's feel sorry for them, why should I give head space to *******
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There’s a psychopath at every job, a guy ready to talk your ear off about socks or a woman who admits she has a fetish for hairy ***** I met them in restaurants, on construction sites, and in bland offices. As time went on, the psychos disappeared. I mentioned this to a coworker. He stared at me cold, the way I once looked at a guy who went on and on about his ****** addiction. -Ron Gavalik
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Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 6:54 PM UTC
Acidic Reveal
I felt you, Hemingway Ghost lit in pale blood electric lights On the downslope of the Holy Spirit's introspective nightmare Cacophony in the bathroom stall, savages at war in the gutter Kings in their drug fueled conquest of modern man's spatial reasoning Angry cyclops guards the gate to the Fourth ***** Garden of Eden The learned alcoholic in wino wonderland bursting at the seams for a halogen fix Cultist camoflaged in black leather combat boots spiked iron altercation Public domain genocide for the demure nihlist lower class Never give those ******* the satisfaction I felt you in Rapture, like lilac swastikas dripping melted candle wax down my frail spine Blunt force trauma tinged lunacy for the jet engine martyrs, screaming at the empty spaces For the imposters stigmatized by yellow journalist hype men And the psychos just along for the ride Be shameless in your insanity, Be reckless in your love Live forever to spite the mad god that molded your angry heart And **** the sun with your empathy
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
Acid Trip #3
Awwwww Baby, we're not psychos, they just don't know you. As a matter of fact, they don't know me either. So you go girl, drop to your knees on me, impale yourself, bone-grinder, pinch your hardened sensitivities. Take me there, take me to that special place, make me scream hallelujah. We're not lunatics Darling, I just want to fill your delicious void, you sweet lovely humanoid.
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Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
You Sweet Lovely Humanoid (Were Not Psychos Or Lunatics~They Just Don't Know Us)