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Mikey Jha Nov 2014
It's 5 o'clock in the morning
And we still seem to be going
Round in circles
What good am I to you
If I can't carry the weight around for two

I heard that whistle blow
I'm punching my card
They tell me that friendship
Shouldn't be this hard

Well a warrior lives inside of me
But he's weary of the fight
I am afraid that it's quittin' time
I'm the first on the job
I'm the last one to leave
You still don't seem to appreciate me
I never thought I would say but it's
Quittin' time

Where's the pay off for the blood
The sweat and tears
I've been punished for your fears?
It's all So hurtful
But no tool that I have used
Has ever been strong enough
To see us through

I heard that whistle blow
I'm punching my card
Cuz buddy Friendship
Shouldn't be this hard
I'm here, so many years later,
Entertaining foolish notions
that I might go and just quit
everything, fearing my time's
up, I might have to renounce
all that I did love,
All I've become,
All of the work;
All for nothing.

I can't quit,
I spent years
crafting who I am,
Or who I thought I was.

Quitting the session almost
sounds like quitting on life
to an Irishman, I feel like
I've gone and quit
being who I am.

Thy time will come again,
When the world need be rethought
in the lair of some gremlins.
Everyone has their moments of weakness
but not everyone
understands.
Jeremy Betts May 2022
(too long version)

Life indeed pushed me to the edge of the cliffs end but the jump was my decision, no one there could ever be bothered to care enough to even explore the simplest question much less begin thinkin' about askin' what I was thinkin' when I settled on the option I ultimately, on more than one occasion, failed at miserably while attemptin', like the byproduct of rabbits ******' my faults are multiplyin' as my spark goes dark at the same time my shine went dim, not worth restorin' this vessel that sits as decoration in a white trash front lawn deterioratin', startin' from the back end then devourin' the engine

One step forward, two giant leaps back pedalin', that was the general motion of regression, lookin' like I'm plagiarizin' Michael Jackson when he's on stage performin', masterin' that classic moon walkin' he's known for doin', never as smooth as him but you get the picture I'm paintin', losing track of my destination as it began droppin' out of sight behind the horizon, followin' the trail the sun was blazin'

Can't see the forest for the trees and vegetation, could have heard the pre-lumber fallin' if you would only humor me and at least pretend to listen, but that there is somethin' you have zero interest in which is interestin' cause if the past has taught me anythin' about what you find pleasure in it's that you're lovin', above everythin', the chance to keep pointin' out and highlightin' how I'm a terrible human bein', a garbage person but not a man and no CDL license, I'm not pickin' up the trash I'm metaphorically dwellin' in only then to have it pile back up again times ten, ultimately creatin' my own land fill location within, wilfully lettin' recycled misfortune to continue hittin' me on the chin, it's due to inadequate trainin', not for the lack of tryin' to defend

No direction just a lie practiced to perfection too keep 'em from noticin' my state of depression, leave 'em guessin'. But to keep the honesty rollin' in I have a confession, I'd loan you the money to pay attention but you'd never take that good for nothin' offerin' and I ain't even placin' blame, just sayin', I know my position, I'm fully aware I'm on the losin' end of this game of tug-a-war life and I are playin', though I think it's cheatin', countin' cards to ensure a win, gamblin' that I'll give in and fold before noticin' I'm the mark bein' taken, the journey of life is a rigged expedition

What am I doin' besides losin'? Why am I here became the daily question, how do I get out this mess of confusion that's drownin' me to the point of extinction? It's an impossible equation even for a mathematician with years of education, so you know for certain I'm lyin' when, for no good reason, I have a go at answerin'. The slipknot is workin' just as I was expectin', slippin', goin' taunt, slidin' into its final position

I should mention, if you're thinkin' this has taken place solely for attention you're sorely mistaken, you never come to that realization, dodgin' conversation in an attempt to avoid confrontation, leavin' me noticin' there's no one standin' by and extendin' a hand to help and lookin' back there's never been. No one attendin' my lonely execution by decapitation in an effort to stop the spreadin' of harmful misfortune I feed myself, bad for my mental health, a deadly addiction that's become somewhat of a tradition through repetition, turnin' a weapon on myself, worsenin' my condition, that's a fact based observation not an opinion

No resolution in the hard hitting revelation that there's no salvation for someone who's gone and done what I've done and gone on livin' in a web of fear that I first spun for protection but couldn't stop the infestation from gainin' the traction it was needin' for the completion of my complete elimination

Cravin' anythin' real to place my faith in, I'm bein' told the hate and pain I'm bathin' in is of my own creation, I can see the connection as I sit broken down in the intersection of real life and fiction, I've lost control again and once again there's no mulligan. Am I seein' the glass half full or half empty or maybe it's all an illusion regardless of perception? Lost my vision, can't see through the pollution and corruption runnin' rampant with no solution comin', I'm a simpleton so this ***** gettin' confusin', a complete brain malfunction

I've awoken the beast within and just as I was predictin' we instantly began battlin' to the death, fightin' for position and a quicker end to the situation I'm always findin' myself in then findin' out for myself that it's always been my own reflection startin' back in my direction, the ugly inside is finally outwardly projectin', can't even pretend to be my own friend, enough is enough, I'm saying when

Its lurkin' just under the skin, waitin' for the moment to strike and beat me down to nothin'. When will it end? Never I'm guessin'. I'm gonna have to try to put an end to it all myself again, tirin' of the repetition to the point I usually take no action, sometimes due to exhaustion but still just lettin' it all happen like that's what I was plannin' from the beginnin' but that makes about as much sense as quittin' ****** right after the needles insertion or waitin' till after overdosin'

Frustration givin' way to aggravation and aggression leavin' little satisfaction even if I could squeak out a win, but I'm no longer wastin' time waitin' for that to happen so I'll probably most likely be caught sleepin', dreamin' about what could've been had I listened to my gut feelin' and put in the same amount of stock I place in what my treasonous mind and heart are always sayin'
and not let doubt creep in and claim top billin' as it's permanent position, knocking out compassion and reason, replacin' both with the hate and weight of a nation

It's a fools mission, I WILL be beaten' into submission, the last thing I'll hear as my energy gives up on existin' is the mortician statin' then time stampin' my expiration, that and the body bag zippin', family left pickin' out a coffin from the bargain bin, not worth payin' a fortune, only payin' little respect to the fallen then quickly forgotten at the drop of a pin

You're sayin' I have a purpose but I'm witnessin' me wastin' every minute of the earths rotation and never reachin' the conclusion that I was slackin', far to laxed in the preparation for a home invasion of this mental prison I'm caged in where I'm servin' a life sentence and I'm mentally and emotionally starvin' while my vision of any kind of future begins to darken

No open invitation, but that's not stoppin' my personal demon from just walkin' right in and startin' the killin' spree up once again, focusin' first on positive motivation just for existin', of course that's just my imagination, but could you imagine? A horrible vision to the average pedestrian, I know, but I still crack a grin at the thought of it happenin', the devil on my shoulder is at it again

My light fractured through a prism and some went missin' and I never got around to lookin' so no chance of gettin' it back into my possession, there's no raignin' it in, goin' from a fools errand to a search and rescue mission seemingly overnight but for what reason, just to teach me a lesson? I don't test well, I won't make it to graduation

Choices made out of desperation got me lookin' and feelin' like a felon, to survive I had to become the villain of the biography I'm narratin', this isn't livin', at best it's just barely holdin' on for dear life and weakenin', a measly attempt at survivin', forced into an intimate relation with the unforgivable, each of the sinful deadly seven

The line not to cross was paper thin, walked it like a drunk person in front of a couple corrupt police men, heathens but feelin' better than, lost control long ago, before I fell off the wagon, I ain't talkin' about drinkin', it started way back when with prescription medication, ones that were suppose to be helpin' but then used for wreckreation and that's when it began draggin' me down to an underground parkin' garage elevation

I didn't have a break down, like I said, it was a break in home invasion with the assumption there was somethin' worth takin' to begin with but everythin' inside is broken and you can see the corrosion of the foundation built on sand, makin' this temple worth nothin', even self worth is fadin'

Graspin' at the air and yet again findin' nothin', grapplin' with the notion I'm nothin', prayin' my emergency flotation device will suffice cause the water is ragin', feelin' the undertow currant strengthen in it's concentration, I think it's attackin' and there's no escapin' so I began blinkin' SOS in old fashion morse code hopin' you don't need help with the translation, if that's the case then I'm done for, why bother debatin', I'll take myself out of the equation, preparin' my soul for the comin' evacuation

You begin lyin' just to raise my spirits but I ain't buyin' into what you're sellin', counterfeit concern bein' spoken with no emotion or conviction, after the extensive evaluation I see it's no garden of Eden I'm livin' in, again, someone's been lyin', I'd be wakin' right into the den of a rabid lion shrouded in original sin, I ate the fruit knowin' full well it was forbidden, straight up poison but zero ***** were given, so this was bound to happen, the writin' was on the wall, who am I kiddin'?

You have my permission to begin the process so let's just go ahead then and get this over with so I can silence the voices within, I've eliminated every complication, layin' on the tracks at the crazy train boarding station, awaitin' the unavoidable, provin' I was correct in the assumption that this is the right time to initiate my endin', a personal Armageddon...oh, well hello, you must be that Satan guy I've been hearin' so much about from everyone preachin' directly in my ear then going out the other, it's still hard not to listen, I'm just tyin' up a loose end or two then I'm yours for the takin'

...alright, thanks for waitin', now then, let the journey to my endin' begin shall we? I'm takin' the lead on this one cause I know where we're goin' and I'm no good at followin' direction...obviously, it goes without sayin'

©2022
Arcassin B Oct 2014
By Arcassin Burnham




Ladyboy,
Don't you bring me self pity,
Although your rules might be just a little ******,
I dont ,
Need your permission,
Just to kick me out the kitchen,
I can show myself out,
But you don't know I'm quittin',
So please quit the *******',
Cause I'm not gonna listen,
She could have gave a tip,
Might have even done the dishes,
I don't care anymore,
Done sweeping and swishin',
You as eager as the pistons,
Wish I had a genie for wishes,
So I can wish you the hell away,
So I won't have to listen,
To the bickering everyday,
It drives me crazy,
It drives me crazy,
haha yeah
Ken Pepiton Apr 2023
NOVEMBER 5, 2016 / - a note to my future

The old man said

I have persevered

The new man waited

The old man said

Through long years of toil

And sweat rivers of ****** tears

For what

I got

Ye got that

The new man waited

Ye got that

The new man nodded

Perseverance that’s what

Jesus said

I needed

And I got it

By God and

I ain’t quittin’neither

The new man waved said

Nothing and

Walked away

Gracefully
Fourteen more and my thousand poems on HP prove the worth of perseverance and constant change... fragile... these thousand poems shall hang on the sites continuance, of fade away forever.
Elijah Mar 2014
The world needs balance,
The world needs balance.
Wake up to the news every morning of homies Wildin.

Why don't you stay in school?
Education succeeds violence.
Why spend your life in the hood?
Get a new challenge.

Get some new talents,
The trap game gets old.
Half the ones that say they trap,
Get in the real game and just fold.

Never going for the gold,
But they settle for them metals.
Just be palming on that pistol,
Advocate for the devil.

Willing to **** to survive,
So much pain in mothers' eyes.
Lost two sons:
one to system & and one to the skies .

The devil in disguise ,
He don't care who stay alive .
He just wanna create chaos ,
He just wanna ruin lives.

Heaven or hell ?
You choose .
Whether Dead or in jail?
You lose .
Heartless or heartbroken ?
Stories rolling on the news.

I'm never amused.
My generations amusement.
Six flags fall to half-staff,
My generation is losing.

Dying off.

Kids my age aren’t coming home.

I’m realizing, kids my age aren't coming home.
Some wonder why I write poems.
Just So you can feel me and my standpoint,
Cause I never been good with words unless I write out what I've planned. Huh?


Wishing we could talk to God more.

Wishing the FEDERAL government would provide more;
assistance for college that's why these kids quittin' .
They lack the AMBITION,
And  incentives to keep them driven.  

Unemployment is high .
These kids gettin higher.
In an attempt to talk to God ;
So they all Rastafari .

Playing host to a chess game.
Satan Versus God.
But you can't wither & Waver,
Gotta pick & choose your side.

So whose side do your reside on?
I mean, who do you rely on?
This cold world, but no heat.
Can't stay wrinkle free, without an iron.

Perfection's in belief.
Belief is in faith.
Faith is discussion.
So who do you discuss today?

Give them something to talk about…
written during a dark time in my life. shortly after high school i lost a friend; he got stabbed in the heart by another friend of mine. so i lost TWO friends: one is dead, and one is in jail. i often questioned why i still remain. but , i think im beginning to know why - my purpose is written, and God holds the key...

Read Please, and enjoy.
Waverly Dec 2011
"She talkin
about quittin me,
she said
'I'm tired of you coming
over here
sweet-talking
just to get in the door,
then
you go upside
my head
once you inside,
no,
not anymore,'
I said,
'baby,
I apologized for all that
before,
why you keep bringing
up
old ****?
You need
to learn how to forgive
and forget.
You know
I don't mean nothin by it,
fuhreal.
But all you ever do
is talk about
what I am
doing wrong
what I have done
to you,
can't we just be cordial
and sip on this thing
I brought over?'"


"So she let me
in
and
we sipped that night."

I picture them glued hotly to each other
on a couch;
a bed;
scrambling
together
drunk out of their minds
on
the ***** tile
in the kitchen;
two plaster figures
stuck together
by
bad chance
and
some fault of fire.
****** cold it was, this February night in Virginia.
Five or six degrees thereabouts with a bit of wind.
Hard to stay warm in the shack,
even with the heat running full blast.
Had to keep the window cracked just a tad in case I dozed.
The sound of the car engines would snap me back to consciousness
as they turned onto the property - the school property.
This is my moonlight gig,
midnight to eight - Saturday and Sundays, seven years now.
No major happenings.
No Taliban attempting a takeover.
No student going over the deep end
from home sickness.
Just an occasional alarm mishap,
or ambulance call for a sick resident.
But this morning was about to change all that.

It was 4:00am and my relief was just turning
the corner at the top of the hill.
It was time for my 30 minute nap at the Security office.
I hated the idea of leaving the shack,
climbing into my cold car and driving, shivering
on my way to some shut-eye,
but it would be worth it because
by 4:00am, I'm a bit buggy
and the thirty minute catnap would revive me til quittin' time.

The security office is located inside the business office,
a two story brick building which handles shipping along with several manager's offices, including Chief of Security.
I arrived, was about to make my way up the stairs
when I decided to check out
the candy dispenser in the small room to the left
on the bottom floor.
I've known it was there for seven years,
but not once in all that time have I altered my immediate
route to the stairs.
Perhaps because my time on these breaks is limited,
and every minute of sleep is precious.
This time, for whatever reason, I changed my routine.
As I was walking towards the candy dispenser,
I noticed a framed photo on the wall.
It was a photo of a gentleman who had worked here for thirty years.
A gentleman who also passed away on the property.
There was writing...thanking him for his service.
I proceeded to the candy and chips...nothing special here
as I suspected.
I then proceeded to the Security office,
pulled up a chair, leaned back and closed my eyes.
Something was different.
In seven years I'd never felt in any way a presence other than my own,
until now.
The old 25 watt lamp on the desk behind me began flickering and making that noise a bulb makes before it goes out...bzzzt...bzzzzt.
To my right was the office door - closed.
I was able to see the light of the hallway in the inch or so of clearance at the bottom. I'm not sure what drew me to look there, but just as I did, a large chunk of the light became blocked from right to left, then back, then back again as if a woman in a long dress or a man in a trench coat was walking back and forth. I tried to convince myself that this was the hallway lights flickering as well, but I knew better.
I mustered enough courage to slowly rise from the chair, which made  an ungodly creek, and walk slowly to the door. I opened it to find no-one there.
I sat back down after turning on the main office lights.
The old saying about the hairs raising on your arms when a spirit is present is true. They were standing straight as soldiers in formation.
I waited about 20 seconds and then began engaging whoever was with me.
'Can I ask your name? Did you work here?'
Before I could ask the next question, the lights went completely out.
I blamed it on the cold until I realized that the rest of the campus still had power.
At this point, curiosity and terror were running neck and neck. I sat motionless in the near pitch darkness for 30 to 45 seconds.
I finally gathered enough wits to speak; 'If you wish me to leave, I will do so, but I ask that you please turn the power back...' before I could finish, the power returned. I did not hesitate to make
my exit. I held my breath until I reached the bottom of the stairs, praying that the lights stay on. The hairs finally returned to their normal state when I reached the shack. George was watching 'Uncut Animal Attacks' and chomping on his giant 711 mug full of ice.
'Thanks, George! see ya tomorrow!'

I returned the next night, video recorder in hand and captured what I believe were the words of Jane Kyle -  'The Shrew of Foxcroft'
true story - my first contact with who I believe was 'Jane Kyle' the Shrew of Foxcroft - February 2013. This experience changed my life...and upon my retirement in one year, I will dedicate my full energy in the pursuit of bringing our world and theirs a little closer. I have a compilation video in the works that will feature a number of my evp's and video recordings.
Miles Cottingham Aug 2016
Exiting the void without

Sinking noiselessly into my third skin

The daylight behind, a trailing blur

What happens in the night makes less sense



First suit donned when in groggy waking light

Momentary protests at the dawn

Fumbles with our old mechanics 

Still creaking from the evening’s slumber 



Second when, in flash-bang charge

The workman’s curse sets cast its truths

En route to jobs and errands laden

so heavily without grit or grin

Sea legs now acquired 

Us, with our souls bound by order

So eager for the day to end

Hours lost and hours spent 



And when the clocks call for quittin’ 

Sudden surge of tired smiles

Play light the facts that choke our freedoms

Setting out now to town to celebrate them with friends



None for me though, I’m a goner

What happens in the night makes less sense

A step towards home is both backwards and on

Leaned back to indulge a simpler sigh


I’m always leaning back on something

Crutches groan and boulders shudder

Captured moments deep in pockets 

Whatever helps the day roll by
SoZaka Mar 2018
Mom I love you but you're making things tough
the other boys at school are kinda treating me rough
they see me rollin like a ball of dough
running for the hills, hungry and slow

mom I know you're trying now
and you think its cool, somehow

but i'm slowly dyin and thinking of quittin school
I've never had so many friends
I didn't need

you're so sugar sweet
its making me bleed

i've got a wealth of problems bundled in my lap
two snicker doodles my  gingersnap
my life is in peril and i'm in a crunch
cause I'm the kid with cookies for lunch
allegory for coming of age and trying to make friends when being a weird kid is hard enough and a mothers love of course
Thom MasT Sep 2020
I’ve fought the demons and dragons
far too long it seems.
Real ones and those in my dreams.

I wasted youth
chasing eagle-dreams.
Unable to catch High-flying winds.

And wasted manhood
Fighting dragons, just surviving.
I’m  tired of trying

I’m quittin’ today,
I’ve had enough.
This is the end.

I’m joining the whispers
you hear in the wind.

— The End —