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"reaffirmed" poems
And we’ve all been there, me and my lovers, we’ve all see our fair share of troubles. cause Romance is Chance in the form of a Dance and I’m sorry to say I still move like I did fifteen years ago. Macarena with me and I’ll sweep you off your feet, maybe someday I’ll learn to waltz and blow you away. Until it all comes crashing down.   Because inevitably it all comes crashing down even the Flintstones died millennia ago. My Anna Marie, I’m sorry you left, Europe ringed and you answered, I guess we couldn’t afford long distance (is that even still a thing?) and I couldn’t wait for you, I was too young and too ready to love again. Dear Jenna, Darling, as much fun as you are we move at different speeds, and mine’s stuck in the slow lane. I liked *** on the second date, but I wasn’t ready for the **** three weeks in. God knows I’d never try and change you even he doesn’t have the ***** to try. And God bless you Tiffany, cause it ***** to die, but it ***** even more stuck here saying goodbye. Bachelor Status reaffirmed: **** sites filled to capacity with self-made men of audacity come to satisfy their proclivities “Dear phantom girlfriends, you’re here to gratify Please entertain us in our fantasies and our impossibly similar tendencies. Also, it wouldn’t hurt if it’s all free.”
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
Drama ****
And suddenly I do not feel the need to speak again To take you to my room tonight and try to play pretend The only conversation that remains is silence now So let it be in stillness that our bodies take a bow I've wandered through this skin so long and finally returned To some place I'd forgotten but completely reaffirmed I'd like to settle in and watch the windows open wide To listen to the wind as it renters my whole mind It's something like a song a weathered spirit taught me young I'll sing it with my spirit and the notes will carry on
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Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 10:40 PM UTC
Glass Doors
A chirpy little bird A notion reaffirmed From egg to box to room You preen your emerald plume I love you, Roombird
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
The Ballad Of the Roombird
A lullaby remembered Remnance of night Conversation between the piano n a flute Mother and daughter duet Floads my being with memories How could I have forgotten It's what I needed to make do with brokenness A bravado to fend off, to show strength Truth is brokenness, exist reaffirmed by a lost lullaby Takes me back before time made sense When mum was my universe and I was hers I love her all my life, she loves me my lifetime
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Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
lullaby
I saw you sitting on our front porch It was a dull, silent day The kind you find in Colorado at spring time, early may And the kids are at school And the housewives are too busy cleaning the house cooking their meals Washing the lipstick stains off their husbands shirts And you looked cute like little kids do with a chubby face and baby hands I sat next to you and asked you what you were doing You said "I'm waiting for the rain." why? "Because I like the smell of it." You reaffirmed my sense in humanity then. Someone who was only 5 years old You made me want to go home and destroy every razor I had stashed away Rip out every sad sob story of a poem I had written Open up every curtain in that death stained house That smelled like body odor and human warmth But it lacked life You made me want to scream and cry and say "yes yes yes you're smart little guy!" But I stared in amazement as thunder was heard And now when I hear it, im reminded of your words As I held your little hands in mine, the neighbour boy and we danced in the rain as you squealed with delight five years old with beautiful brown eyes I could only hope one day Id have a brother like you That was before my mom had the baby And you were just a little boy so every time it rains I think of that dance and how it smelled and how it tasted when I found out that your stepfather had beaten your brains out 3 years later after we'd moved. That sweet-bitter taste. of life laughing in your face
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Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 6:33 PM UTC
Waiting for the rain
I knew you were someone very special When I embraced your lovely smile today I knew because of its perfect beauty I wanted more moments like this to stay Filling my day with an enchanting beauty Making my former thoughts easily replaced For I found myself floating on air today When I was swept away by your lovely face I found my mind was easily captured And my thoughts were no longer my own My heart was beating very rapidly As I began dreaming of making you my own Like the leaves falling throughout Autumn So I also found myself easily swept away By a refreshing wind leaving me so helpless Easily filled with a desire for you to stay I knew I had to find new ways each day So that you might for a moment notice me For since the first moment I saw you I found my heart would never again be free I had to choose the perfect time and place Where we might be able to sit side by side So I might have the chance to let you know How much I really wanted you to share my life I found each night when I would try to sleep The vision of your smile would keep me awake And my many dreams would be so beautiful As within each I would feel your embrace I begin to realize what I had hoped for Would one day soon become so very real And the first moment your hand touched mine That second for my heart and mind was ideal That love had found a very lovely place Within my wanting heart that special day For the blessing of your genuine smile I found days later in my life would stay The blessing which really happened days later As the soft beauty in your face embraced me Was totally reaffirmed in a single instant When you said, you also shared the same dream.
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Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
Embracing A Dream
I knew you were someone very special When I embraced your lovely smile today I knew because of its perfect beauty I wanted more moments like this to stay Filling my day with an enchanting beauty Making my former thoughts easily replaced For I found myself floating on air today When I was swept away by your lovely face I found my mind was easily captured And my thoughts were no longer my own My heart was beating very rapidly As I began dreaming of making you my own Like the leaves falling throughout Autumn So I also found myself easily swept away By a refreshing wind leaving me so helpless Easily filled with a desire for you to stay I knew I had to find new ways each day So that you might for a moment notice me For since the first moment I saw you I found my heart would never again be free I had to choose the perfect time and place Where we might be able to sit side by side So I might have the chance to let you know How much I really wanted you to share my life I found each night when I would try to sleep The vision of your smile would keep me awake And my many dreams would be so beautiful As within each I would feel your embrace I begin to realize what I had hoped for Would one day soon become so very real And the first moment your hand touched mine That second for my heart and mind was ideal That love had found a very lovely place Within my wanting heart that special day For the blessing of your genuine smile I found days later in my life would stay The blessing which really happened days later As the soft beauty in your face embraced me Was totally reaffirmed in a single instant When you said, you also shared the same dream.
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40
It felt like growth to me at the time, Like I had taken a step forward to evolve into a better and more sophisticated man And maybe I had I had What I did not know at the time was that sophistication wasn't the goal, only simplicity can carry you through your days with the easy graceful demeanor we all aspire to maintain I laid in bed, staring at the textured spots on my ceiling wondering if I would ever be the same, If I could ever carry myself with the dignity I thought I possessed Colors sang out carrying a tune to the bass line strummed by the darkness The sound of my distraught shrieks tasted like ash leaving my mouth The blankets writhed violently around my neck and torso I heard a booming voice ringing from the Zenith of the universe He reaffirmed all my self-doubts, all my worries, all my mortal nightmares He was adamant that my death and all those who surround me was imminent He spoke to me of things my feeble human mind could not comprehend Then he left me in a cold sweat to slumber in agony I woke the next morning with a scar across my chest Not an open laceration, but a fully healed scar that looked as if it had taken procedures and months to close The scar remains and all my insignificant and worthless brain could take away from the booming ambiguous voice became simpler and simpler No moment but now; no day but today
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
Just another Enigma...
Today is not Lord Byron’s birthday. Today is May 3, and I’m preparing to enter the real world. Graduation comes in nine days. Before me like a flag my future unfurls. Poetry is something I must never give up on. The class that I took this semester reaffirmed that. The feedback I gained was something to feed upon. My poems felt like more than mere lab rats. Dissected on a cold, steel operating table, Without hope of being understood, only analyzed. My mind has always served me well when I demand that it be able. My work is not something that I want privatized. So I’ll continue my work in the field of poetics, To try to make the world understand what goes on between these ears. The words that I write shall be unapologetic, As I drift through these forthcoming years. Graduation is in nine days. Today is not Lord Byron’s birthday.
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May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 2:44 PM UTC
Today is not Lord Byron's birthday
How I would love to crack open your skull, to pull back the layers of impenetrable stone. To strip and peel away each level of calcium, until I reach that intoxicating, tangled mass. To trace along every crevice and every groove and memorize the landscape that devises you. Once you are sewn up and put back together, I would rest my weary head against your chest, and be reaffirmed by the resonating silence.
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Jun 19, 2010
Jun 19, 2010 at 7:27 PM UTC
In Sickness And Health
circumscribed circumstances circumspect   ~ *these then the circumstances, that circumscribe my essentials the surround-sound orb walls of choices made and yet-to-be-made delimiting me, making me wary of the unforeseen, more circumspect of what I will someday have chosen recall standing on the now crushed, destroyed subway platform of the Cortlandt Street Station, debating take this job or that took the one but a crow mile fly away (and not the one that didn't survive) come that day, me, audience observer then,, not one of the death undefying unwilling circus performers, and heroes, when I pass the covered up burial sight, the many nearby and  forever crinkly crape draped firehouses, or open the drawer where I have saved the tidbits of that particular day's memories walk home, a covenant reaffirmed, a circumcision of the soul renewed a circumcision upon the soul, the renewed cut, sheds, allows some light into the circularity of life* 9/11/16
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Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 9:47 AM UTC
circumscribed circumstances circumspect 9/11
Getting to know meShare Today at 1:23pm | Edit Note | Delete I wasted years discussing future employment; taking the name of that college and turning it in to a pretty university. I got half way there... Did three years of time under the teachings of socialites and successful suits. That was when I realised that the women, the music, intoxication and the word meant more to me, and very little to them. It seemed to me... Be successfully dry or struggle through with fire. So now, I work my *** off for a meagre wage, I spend what I can in the bars, whilst those I used to know take out their mortgage loans and start planting the seeds without considering exactly what is left -or not left- for them to grow in. Well, waking up at noon with a head on my chest, a hangover that drags me to the bathroom then puts me back where I started... Knowing that nothing takes preference over personal enjoyment, decency and honesty, and knowing that all those struggles reaffirmed this: It's a bubble, one that I know is now far too thick to be burst.
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Jan 21, 2010
Jan 21, 2010 at 6:25 AM UTC
Getting to know me
To Whom it May Concern, My blood begins to burn and I’m compelled to spurn the current plans to turn our mascot to a worm. The members from my firm cannot stay taciturn when our alumni learn that strangers overturned the past we had governed because they’re all stubborn, seeking to be modern and spread, exploit and churn their folly and their germs. I urge you to discern the consequence you’ll earn unless you can confirm our legacy long-term. We will not adjourn until it’s reaffirmed that history is stern and keeps our old pattern. If you do not concur and submit to our terms, then surely you will yearn for courtesy interns as funding will downturn and we will watch you squirm like spiders in an urn at the point of no return. Sincerely, Dr. Kern
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Jan 11, 2020
Jan 11, 2020 at 12:37 PM UTC
Spirit Murderers
Hiding in the shadows of Destiny...you await me...you see you had me from the beginning because fate wrapped my heart around yours and it took traveling into the future to realize...you were my love unforeseen, unknown and ever present simultaneously..never knowing how love would seem...between you and I...Because you were the unknown factor...I never knew acceptance until i met you...knowing that love such as yours existed in distant place...hiding in the shadows of Destiny...locked behind the gates of my heart...stirring my in my soul...you move within me forever...cloaked within the shadows...hiding behind trees of wisdom...holding knowledge in the palm of her hands....she freed me...how could this be...this love, this passion, unseen yet felt and known...how is it that my heart leaps to the sound of your voice and my spirit breeds truth when you're near...catering to the stealth of my emotions...hiding in the shadows of Destiny...locked behind the gates of my heart...you exist within the safest place in my world...behind the gates...in a place where the pain of heartbreak shall never exist...where pressure is in the simplicity of a smile or a dance...the uncomplicated reciprocity of an unforeseen love...hiding behind the gates of my heart...skipping a beat in your presence...assured, reaffirmed, unadulterated, unforeseen, L-O-V-3.....
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Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 9:48 AM UTC
Unforeseen Lov3
*With every blink of my eyes, with every beat of my heart, with every breath that I take it is reaffirmed to me that we shall never be apart. With every step that we take, with every mountain that we climb, with every move that we make we are blessed to stand the test of time. By Lady R.F (C) 2016*
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Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC
Stand The Test Of Time
What can an individual know of drugs? While transcending only able to look in on the Id of themselves and not the out of said mental health. Sunken and sullen while witnessing the golden kingdom, an illusion of a fully realized sense of self, an identity never fully actualized in reality. And every day is the residual question of who you are reaffirmed as inconsistent by incessant use. Every day good habits become an active choice losing its voice, lost in the uproar of inactivity. Pursue in the aftermath of tragedy the multifaceted personality hiding behind the emotion-less catalyst.
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Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 6:18 PM UTC
An Opinion: I
~~~ "all poetry is confessional, whether written in the first person or not. If nothing else, it is a homing device to our souls, telling any who read where we stand, what we see from our perspective and our poet's eye. When enough of us speak of what we perceive, perhaps someday we'll understand that the tree, the snake, and the rope are indeed an elephant." Joel Frye perhaps the essential modifier of our lives, or as one of the greatest philosopher reprised, Professor Alfred E. Doolittle, "Oh, you can walk the straight and narrow; But with a little bit of luck, (perhaps) you'll run amuck!"^ this thence, one more mine true confession, so many discoursed, cursed have seen the roped wrapped tree firmly snaking around its cored trunk, issuing forced strangling sounds, the musical product of its own umbilical chord still and yet, the jungled elephants, from my visionary, remain ghostly hidden, stolid solid doesn't not comport with the hallucinogenic jive of running amuck! limitations shun my expectations, abilities misrule hide my hoped-for-destination of hopes, my elephants, still and yet, elude the grasp of exhausted roving eyes undeterred and reaffirmed, until and then, when the elephants come to me on bended knee, can understanding be perhaps pronounced, as being blessed with best satisfaction, with the finest of illuminating, most-happy-fella, well known, elephantine-humantine-pink combine phrases A Happy Ending After All ^My Fair Lady - With A Little Bit O' Luck Lyrics
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Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 5:20 PM UTC
perhaps, someday, we'll understand that the tree, the snake, and the rope are indeed an elephant
~~~ "all poetry is confessional, whether written in the first person or not. If nothing else, it is a homing device to our souls, telling any who read where we stand, what we see from our perspective and our poet's eye. When enough of us speak of what we perceive, perhaps someday we'll understand that the tree, the snake, and the rope are indeed an elephant." Joel Frye perhaps the essential modifier of our lives, or as one of the greatest philosopher reprised, Professor Alfred E. Doolittle, "Oh, you can walk the straight and narrow; But with a little bit of luck, (perhaps) you'll run amuck!"^ this thence, one more mine true confession, so many discoursed, cursed have seen the roped wrapped tree firmly snaking around its cored trunk, issuing forced strangling sounds, the musical product of its own umbilical chord still and yet, the jungled elephants, from my visionary, remain ghostly hidden, stolid solid doesn't not comport with the hallucinogenic jive of running amuck! limitations shun my expectations, abilities misrule hide my hoped-for-destination of hopes, my elephants, still and yet, elude the grasp of exhausted roving eyes undeterred and reaffirmed, until and then, when the elephants come to me on bended knee, can understanding be perhaps pronounced, as being blessed with best satisfaction, with the finest of illuminating, most-happy-fella, well known, elephantine-humantine-pink combine phrases A Happy Ending After All ^My Fair Lady - With A Little Bit O' Luck Lyrics
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Longing Becoming Inherent To me I am yearning Her turning Her head back to see In my imagery Vividly Visions of us In eternally Wondering Wandering trust Reaffirmed in a gesture, A word A display I can’t wait To embrace you And next to you lay Every night if I have to Be glad to Awake To the unruly mess Of your hair That we make To escort you again To consort with you Lend What my pen Can’t report In these letters I send
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Jan 24, 2023
Jan 24, 2023 at 11:59 PM UTC
The Girl I Write to
I would rather be stuck Between a rock and a hard place Than the rim of a volcano And the edge of your cliff Your hot breath foretold a story On my neck, it jump started my bones But now, it burns And suffocates me relentlessly I've filled myself with your hatred And stored you beneath my fingernails In anger, and in love Either way, I consider them ***** I have shared with you My darkest shadows My brightest eyes And you reaffirmed my beliefs That neither have a meaning If your foot isn't pressing down on them Like an informal baptism It is clear what this is It is the domestication Of a wolf, to a dog From a dog
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Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC
The Crow
In the beginning was the word The ideas flowed like wine Grappling through the night We explored The ramifications of the past, The indentations of the present The permutations of the future. We delved the endless font Of our literal lives Page after page we turned Swallowing chapters, misspelled loves Grammatical wastelands spread across the crumbled sheets, All could be corrected. Those words, I can still remember Embossed on my brow Like Braille, I’m blind enough to read. In time the words went dry. Perhaps we said it all. Or chose to say no more. The questions were replaced With smug complacency. The river of curiosity slowed, And trickled between our toes. In the end there were no words. Passion took the podium In tender speechless quiverings We pressed the meaning on our flesh Somehow it was enough As we devoured our silent summations. The unspoken proclamations Confirmed my doubts Reaffirmed my hopes. As the last page was turned The rising sun filled the empty room.
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Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
Without Words
It wasn't just the shoe. I like to think that she wanted to go to the ball because she was tired of being defined by her job scope. I mean what she did was even in her name -- Cinderella from the cinders that smudged her face from cooking all day. Cinderella the maid. Cinderella the cook. So she went to the ball to regain that sense of identity and she was ever grateful to her fairy godma for the dress and glass slippers because the fairy saw that Cinderella was just a girl and girls no matter how tired, like pretty things. And this is also true of boys, but I'm not going there. And I like to think that when she went to the ball she didn't know it was the Prince but he was hot and the strange blushy reaction she got when she saw him didn't really confuse her because it just reaffirmed that she was human and it was right and natural to feel all these things. And she didn't know what to say when she danced with him, so she offered him a recipe for stew and told him a secret (barley grain made stew taste even better) and the Prince was amused, and they weren't in love with each other. Yet. And when the clock struck midnight and he offered to kiss her, she politely declined because she didn't know him all that well, except that he had been very kind and listened to her. Then she ran off. And when she went back to her old tired life, she was sad but glad because she knew that she was alive and human after all. Except sometimes she worried about him because he didn't have barley grain in his stew. And the Prince went back to his clean well-ordered life but he thought often of the girl who had been so obviously not been of the nobility. And he might have smiled at the memory of her from time to time when he was alone. Until one day he realised that he was in love with the memory of her and he needed to rectify that. So he brought out the shoe and went searching. And I like to think that the glass slipper was just a metaphor for how fragile appearances can be, that we shouldn't take things at their face value, because when he finally found her, she was covered in muck and grime but he recognised her anyway. And she wasn't proud of her appearance but she wasn't ashamed either because it was only a necessary result of all the work she'd been doing. And I like to think that the Prince realised how wrong he was to have fallen in love with the memory of her because the real woman was so fully present and alive, incomparable to his flimsy memories. And she, she was glad because he had recognized her. And that was how they fell in love. Only after all the hard work. Oh there was more hardship later on in their lives, but I like to think that at that re-encounter they fell in love because they knew that neither of them was afraid to work to get what they wanted.
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC
I like to think
It wasn't just the shoe. I like to think that she wanted to go to the ball because she was tired of being defined by her job scope. I mean what she did was even in her name -- Cinderella from the cinders that smudged her face from cooking all day. Cinderella the maid. Cinderella the cook. So she went to the ball to regain that sense of identity and she was ever grateful to her fairy godma for the dress and glass slippers because the fairy saw that Cinderella was just a girl and girls no matter how tired, like pretty things. And this is also true of boys, but I'm not going there. And I like to think that when she went to the ball she didn't know it was the Prince but he was hot and the strange blushy reaction she got when she saw him didn't really confuse her because it just reaffirmed that she was human and it was right and natural to feel all these things. And she didn't know what to say when she danced with him, so she offered him a recipe for stew and told him a secret (barley grain made stew taste even better) and the Prince was amused, and they weren't in love with each other. Yet. And when the clock struck midnight and he offered to kiss her, she politely declined because she didn't know him all that well, except that he had been very kind and listened to her. Then she ran off. And when she went back to her old tired life, she was sad but glad because she knew that she was alive and human after all. Except sometimes she worried about him because he didn't have barley grain in his stew. And the Prince went back to his clean well-ordered life but he thought often of the girl who had been so obviously not been of the nobility. And he might have smiled at the memory of her from time to time when he was alone. Until one day he realised that he was in love with the memory of her and he needed to rectify that. So he brought out the shoe and went searching. And I like to think that the glass slipper was just a metaphor for how fragile appearances can be, that we shouldn't take things at their face value, because when he finally found her, she was covered in muck and grime but he recognised her anyway. And she wasn't proud of her appearance but she wasn't ashamed either because it was only a necessary result of all the work she'd been doing. And I like to think that the Prince realised how wrong he was to have fallen in love with the memory of her because the real woman was so fully present and alive, incomparable to his flimsy memories. And she, she was glad because he had recognized her. And that was how they fell in love. Only after all the hard work. Oh there was more hardship later on in their lives, but I like to think that at that re-encounter they fell in love because they knew that neither of them was afraid to work to get what they wanted.
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6
science is the study that fragments nature and my mind. it was the inevitable parting of ways. as my son chose me and lit the more delicate traces so I could trace back. Sankofa. it's theories must be erased from my senses. so intwined in my perspective. my people carry me through the mess. to the other side, where really it all makes sense. once, I questioned everything. all the holes science creates by the hands of its very nature. equations are written in our souls. not the miracle revelations of science. but the simple observations of time. disconnected from our land we too get broken down. our nature is to build create, create, create once our nature is reaffirmed, within, we begin to recognize our creations. realize our manifestations. our power. our God-like structure. it's happening all over. our intelligence as a species is aligning with our wisdom. the heart naturally awakens along with inner vision followed by revolution! the origin, here, now. not always black or white … more like somewhere in between.
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Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
Sankofa
The sweet taste of self destruction, Makes it hard for one to function. The goal is self evolution To escape these corrupt institutions. But what's the solution Under our eroding constitution? So much **** confusion. So many twisted conclusions Reaffirmed by my delusions. Pain, pain please go away. Anguish seems to always stay Under sunny sky's, on clouded days, A slave to my pessimistic ways. Darkness seeps from my fingertips As the continents drift And the magnetic poles shift. Melatonin brings sleepiness And dreams so hauntingly devious. Thoughts so painfully tedious, Even the devil could not conceive of this. They demand thoughtless obedience, A single consciousness of greediness, And anxiety ridden uneasiness. Mushroom clouds of sorrow, The bleakness of tomorrow. Reasons to let the blood flow To rest six feet below. There's no peace to be found here Just cold stares, judgement, and sneers.   Take me where the maggots eat at flesh Where dirt and corpses mesh. I think we're all god ****** insane Because God ****** us with pain. With self-hatred flowing through our veins.   They say Hell is a physical place, Where evil souls are laid to waste. So why do we all get a taste Before our existence is erased? Because Hell is in the mind Hell is in the heart Hell is all you'll find In a world so dark.
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Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 2:02 AM UTC
Already Burning