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"rescuer" poems
#1. Make sure you are not dating him just because he is a sad boy. Make sure you are not dating him out of pity either. Date him because you like him, sadness and all. #2. Do not expect yourself to be able to fix or save him. Be prepared to love him as he his. He may not ever become less of a sad boy. Make him smile when you can, keep him from being alone. But don't try to be his rescuer, or his savior. Help him keep it together when you can, and let him break on you when you can't. Do not try to change him. #3. If he has physical scars, kiss them. Run your fingers across them. Tell him you love him and his scars. Not for them, not despite them. You love his scars because they are a part of him, and you love him as a whole. #4. Do not feel guilty if you can't stay with him anymore. If it becomes too much, if you just fall out of love. If you just can't see yourself with him. Do not blame yourself, do not hate yourself. Just let him go as kindly and cleanly as possible. #5. Do not hate him if he leaves you. Remember sometimes things end. Do not try to convince yourself that he needs you, do not hate the next girl he dates. Do not go to her and try to tell her how sad he is, how he will destroy her with his pain. Because we both know that isn't true, not really. And it isn't for you to decide. #6. A warning. Relationships with sad boys rarely last, even if you think they will. He isn't your patient. You aren't his angel. This isn't a story book where you'll put him back together and he'll love you forever. If, by some miracle, you do manage to change him. If he becomes happy and "sad boy" becomes a thing of the past. Do not be surprised when he leaves you, because chances are, if he's truly changed, he will.
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
Tips for dating a sad boy.
#1. Make sure you are not dating him just because he is a sad boy. Make sure you are not dating him out of pity either. Date him because you like him, sadness and all. #2. Do not expect yourself to be able to fix or save him. Be prepared to love him as he his. He may not ever become less of a sad boy. Make him smile when you can, keep him from being alone. But don't try to be his rescuer, or his savior. Help him keep it together when you can, and let him break on you when you can't. Do not try to change him. #3. If he has physical scars, kiss them. Run your fingers across them. Tell him you love him and his scars. Not for them, not despite them. You love his scars because they are a part of him, and you love him as a whole. #4. Do not feel guilty if you can't stay with him anymore. If it becomes too much, if you just fall out of love. If you just can't see yourself with him. Do not blame yourself, do not hate yourself. Just let him go as kindly and cleanly as possible. #5. Do not hate him if he leaves you. Remember sometimes things end. Do not try to convince yourself that he needs you, do not hate the next girl he dates. Do not go to her and try to tell her how sad he is, how he will destroy her with his pain. Because we both know that isn't true, not really. And it isn't for you to decide. #6. A warning. Relationships with sad boys rarely last, even if you think they will. He isn't your patient. You aren't his angel. This isn't a story book where you'll put him back together and he'll love you forever. If, by some miracle, you do manage to change him. If he becomes happy and "sad boy" becomes a thing of the past. Do not be surprised when he leaves you, because chances are, if he's truly changed, he will.
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6
I deal in death, the reaper stated. I am the debt collector, The gatherer of souls. I am the Grim I deal in life, the god replied. I am the light giver, The soul rescuer. I am god In neither death nor life, I deal, remarked Cupid. I merely facilitate. I neither give nor take, I barter only in Love. Take it or leave it. I am Cupid.
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 5:29 PM UTC
The Reaper, The God, and Cupid.
With every passing second, minute, hour, day my happiness keeps slipping away. Further and further into a hole. I fall deeper and deeper with nothing to hold. A rope is thrown in hopes to save, the falling girl, but there is no escape. For she missed the rope, it was out of reach. Yet this rescuer hasn't given up on me. Why would you stay to help the helpless? Why are you trying to find a bottom to this bottomless pit? So many questions that will have no answer. Who is this angel, my rescuer? Why spend your time on someone like me? What do you see that is so lovely? What makes you think I'm a person worth saving? My rescuer, this angel, she's my safe haven. Maybe it's not me, maybe it's you. This can just be something you do. You like to help others, you have a good heart. You help me because that's the type of person you are. But what if I'm special and important to you. Yes you help others, that is what you do. But maybe you'd choose to help me over somebody else. Maybe you really want to see me well. While you may care about others, you also care about me. Maybe you help cause you love me. She is finally back with a longer rope this time. I could surely reach it with a small climb. But my mind is telling me I don't deserve this help. That her time would be better spent on someone else. I don't think it's true, it just can't be. I didn't ask for help, it was offered to me. Why would it be offered, if she didn't care? There are enough nice people in this world to share. So I jump up and reach for the rope. And as I grab hold of it, I also grab hope. Hope for a better life, a happier one. I was losing this battle, but in the end I won. I won with some help, and that is okay. Because at the end of the day, I feel great. And now that I'm safe and happy again, I can go thank my new friend. Who made me smile in the midst of my tears. And helped me overcome some of my fears. She literally turned my frown upside down. She had the power to turn this poem around. Not only did I gain a friend, but an important lesson too. I hope if you are lonely this will help you. Darkness is only there to help out the light. After all, the brightest stars shine during the darkest night.
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Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 7:09 PM UTC
The Bright Light Shining During Your Darkest Night.
With every passing second, minute, hour, day my happiness keeps slipping away. Further and further into a hole. I fall deeper and deeper with nothing to hold. A rope is thrown in hopes to save, the falling girl, but there is no escape. For she missed the rope, it was out of reach. Yet this rescuer hasn't given up on me. Why would you stay to help the helpless? Why are you trying to find a bottom to this bottomless pit? So many questions that will have no answer. Who is this angel, my rescuer? Why spend your time on someone like me? What do you see that is so lovely? What makes you think I'm a person worth saving? My rescuer, this angel, she's my safe haven. Maybe it's not me, maybe it's you. This can just be something you do. You like to help others, you have a good heart. You help me because that's the type of person you are. But what if I'm special and important to you. Yes you help others, that is what you do. But maybe you'd choose to help me over somebody else. Maybe you really want to see me well. While you may care about others, you also care about me. Maybe you help cause you love me. She is finally back with a longer rope this time. I could surely reach it with a small climb. But my mind is telling me I don't deserve this help. That her time would be better spent on someone else. I don't think it's true, it just can't be. I didn't ask for help, it was offered to me. Why would it be offered, if she didn't care? There are enough nice people in this world to share. So I jump up and reach for the rope. And as I grab hold of it, I also grab hope. Hope for a better life, a happier one. I was losing this battle, but in the end I won. I won with some help, and that is okay. Because at the end of the day, I feel great. And now that I'm safe and happy again, I can go thank my new friend. Who made me smile in the midst of my tears. And helped me overcome some of my fears. She literally turned my frown upside down. She had the power to turn this poem around. Not only did I gain a friend, but an important lesson too. I hope if you are lonely this will help you. Darkness is only there to help out the light. After all, the brightest stars shine during the darkest night.
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50
What's in a name? Let me tell you a story, Of how my life changed, And how my name changed, Every time it appeared on the newspaper. Replaced by a pseudonym, Something to do with courage, I was namelessly admired, slandered, and debated over, Media’s Exclusive Coverage! The newspaper headline read in big block letters: “14 YEAR OLD GIRL SAVES SIX KINDERGARTNERS”, That made me smile. Just maybe I thought we had come that extra mile. But no for I noticed, My name was changed, And the Printing Department was not at fault. That’s just how my country dealt with ****** assault. I never asked them to hide my name, They had presumed, of course, that I was ashamed, Of saving lives. It took me a minute to remember, I had called Jyoti Nirbhaya for years. I wanted them to know who I was, Hiding I thought was for criminals, Until I realized that I WAS one when, On returning from the hospital I saw, Pain in my mother’s, Anger in my father’s, And disgust in my relatives’ eyes. No idea why a part of me had come expecting pride. In school my “friends” guiltily refrained from talking to me, Neither were my teachers too happy to see, That I had returned to the same school, Bringing with me my painful story, Which I had mistaken as one of glory. And when I went to receive the “Bravery Award”, Only the trophy didn’t read compensation award. They looked at me with too kind eyes calling me a “hero” Their smiles told me they meant violated. As I received the award, I saw they were trying really hard, To not let it show, That they wanted me to know, The difference between: Bullet marks on the chest to bite marks on the breast, Blue around the eyes to blue around the thighs, Scratches on the fists to cuts on the wrists, Loud screams in the cold to muffled screams against the cold, The red of the torn ligament to the red of the torn ***** The difference between a soldier’s and a victim’s blood. And suddenly I felt as if I was, The rescued, Not the rescuer, The maimed, Not the fighter, The oppressed, Not the rebel, The hostage, Not the warrior, I thought myself to be. What’s in a name? Apparently, a lot.
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Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 11:36 AM UTC
What's in a name?
What's in a name? Let me tell you a story, Of how my life changed, And how my name changed, Every time it appeared on the newspaper. Replaced by a pseudonym, Something to do with courage, I was namelessly admired, slandered, and debated over, Media’s Exclusive Coverage! The newspaper headline read in big block letters: “14 YEAR OLD GIRL SAVES SIX KINDERGARTNERS”, That made me smile. Just maybe I thought we had come that extra mile. But no for I noticed, My name was changed, And the Printing Department was not at fault. That’s just how my country dealt with ****** assault. I never asked them to hide my name, They had presumed, of course, that I was ashamed, Of saving lives. It took me a minute to remember, I had called Jyoti Nirbhaya for years. I wanted them to know who I was, Hiding I thought was for criminals, Until I realized that I WAS one when, On returning from the hospital I saw, Pain in my mother’s, Anger in my father’s, And disgust in my relatives’ eyes. No idea why a part of me had come expecting pride. In school my “friends” guiltily refrained from talking to me, Neither were my teachers too happy to see, That I had returned to the same school, Bringing with me my painful story, Which I had mistaken as one of glory. And when I went to receive the “Bravery Award”, Only the trophy didn’t read compensation award. They looked at me with too kind eyes calling me a “hero” Their smiles told me they meant violated. As I received the award, I saw they were trying really hard, To not let it show, That they wanted me to know, The difference between: Bullet marks on the chest to bite marks on the breast, Blue around the eyes to blue around the thighs, Scratches on the fists to cuts on the wrists, Loud screams in the cold to muffled screams against the cold, The red of the torn ligament to the red of the torn ***** The difference between a soldier’s and a victim’s blood. And suddenly I felt as if I was, The rescued, Not the rescuer, The maimed, Not the fighter, The oppressed, Not the rebel, The hostage, Not the warrior, I thought myself to be. What’s in a name? Apparently, a lot.
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61
depression is not crippling sadness as most think it is. well, sometimes. it is apathy most of the time who cares? no point. everything ***** I lost my job today cried, a little but I cry about everything. mainly apathetic now I truly have no reason to ever get out of bed sure, I'll look for another way to live but this ***** leaves me with no motivation no motivation to apply to colleges, even though I have a 3.9 GPA no motivation to hang out with friends even though I am lonelier than ever no motivation to eat food even though I am starving after I left my now "old work" I had the impulsive decision to rescue a dog. maybe if I have another creature to look after love feed I will start to care for myself, too. the shelter made my heart hurt the kittens weren't crying just sleeping in their jail cells uninterested in life or their possible new friend looking at their possible rescuer with disinterest looking through their cage like me. finnegan was a terrier mix a stray he was whining licked my hand when I reached to him eight years old missing his right eye life has trampled him yet he is not hardened I cried with him as I walked him around the play area he sniffed everything he could. curious investigating not crying anymore just happy to be free from the hell in his cage he treated the workers with affection like he treated me with affection it took awhile until he came close and cried while I pat him climbed in my lap and cried I know buddy walked him inside. the woman, at the counter looked at me eagerly, "so?!" I looked away. can't do it not today I'm sorry him and I are both looking for affection love a way out of this mess. but I can't help him. no job, no sure way I can buy him food buy me food. I can't buy a living creature out of impulse. he needed security I cannot provide that only warmth. I need to be happy he cannot provide that only warmth. goodbye, cutie puller of heartstrings I promise someone better than me will take you away. not today lost myself lost my passion lost my lust lost my job lost my soul.
0
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 5:45 PM UTC
A NOW UNEMPLOYED HOPELESS MESS IN THEIR EARLY TWENTIES
depression is not crippling sadness as most think it is. well, sometimes. it is apathy most of the time who cares? no point. everything ***** I lost my job today cried, a little but I cry about everything. mainly apathetic now I truly have no reason to ever get out of bed sure, I'll look for another way to live but this ***** leaves me with no motivation no motivation to apply to colleges, even though I have a 3.9 GPA no motivation to hang out with friends even though I am lonelier than ever no motivation to eat food even though I am starving after I left my now "old work" I had the impulsive decision to rescue a dog. maybe if I have another creature to look after love feed I will start to care for myself, too. the shelter made my heart hurt the kittens weren't crying just sleeping in their jail cells uninterested in life or their possible new friend looking at their possible rescuer with disinterest looking through their cage like me. finnegan was a terrier mix a stray he was whining licked my hand when I reached to him eight years old missing his right eye life has trampled him yet he is not hardened I cried with him as I walked him around the play area he sniffed everything he could. curious investigating not crying anymore just happy to be free from the hell in his cage he treated the workers with affection like he treated me with affection it took awhile until he came close and cried while I pat him climbed in my lap and cried I know buddy walked him inside. the woman, at the counter looked at me eagerly, "so?!" I looked away. can't do it not today I'm sorry him and I are both looking for affection love a way out of this mess. but I can't help him. no job, no sure way I can buy him food buy me food. I can't buy a living creature out of impulse. he needed security I cannot provide that only warmth. I need to be happy he cannot provide that only warmth. goodbye, cutie puller of heartstrings I promise someone better than me will take you away. not today lost myself lost my passion lost my lust lost my job lost my soul.
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141
My name is a reflection of you, The manner in which it's pronounced makes it all the more true. My talk is a reflection of you, The accent in which I speak in is all you- a sign of a sick tribute. My walk is a reflection of you, The way my left foot follows my right, and how my thighs are placed together- never bidding adieu. My sleeping schedule is a reflection of you, How I stay up in fear of you coming but not being seen by a rescuer- always out of view.. My thoughts are a reflection of you, Paranoic and the over-analyzation of everything following through. My mirror is a reflection of me, Tainted, shattered, distorted- indefinitely.
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Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
Reflection
*A peace permeates my heart lights gleam in my eyes when I feed the little birds feel all darkness soon dies. Disappear chunks of my woes a smile breaks on my lips as I hold them warm n close my fingers kiss their beaks. A bliss they give without price that dissolve my aches n pains when I look deep in their eyes touch there a divine innocence. In rough tides my solace rescuer from life’s quicksand they import me a happiness while pecking from my joyous hand.*
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 7:58 AM UTC
When I feed the birds
Saturday morning cartoons in the late 80's Beeeeeep Beeeep Beep! Blankets get thrown Quick yawn and a stretch And I'm gone. Run to the cabinet grab my rescuer's toothbrush and colgate. Its the total complete toothpaste Brushing frantically in the pantry and I grab the frosty flake You know they're  Greeeeeeeat. Get to the sink and rinse with a swift swish and a spit. Done with that, as I dig through the drawers for my plastic Punch Bowl. Pour in the entire box of cereal and a half gallon of liquid gold 6:53am tap the power button on the remote control, stack all the pillows and blankets in the middle of the room, 5 min left till my favorite shows 7am and it begins, Spider-man and his amazing friends 7:30 and its the Wonder Twins Commercial break for school house rock, go take a **** then switch my cereal to cookie crisp 8am silver hawks and the copper kid, 8:30 voltron black lion forms the head While thunder cats at 9am battle Mumm-Ra the un-dead 930 pound puppies that was my thing Bright eyes, violet, and cooler was the man When 10am came that meant the shows were coming to an end. That half-hour reserved for Prince Adam of Eternia better known as He-man And the last of the shows came after 1030 to 11o'clock. Here came "the Little's" cuz the Little's don't stop. The sunlight peaking through the blinds, 11 years old, cereal all gone spazzed on a sugar rush, Waiting to play with my cousins. Grandma picks me up from uncle Gary then off to Dain and Tony for destruction, bike race, GI Joe and burgers from Rally's Those were the days The good ol days -Alexis J. Meighan- July 13 at 8:11pm ·
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Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
Saturday morning cartoons in the late 80's
Saturday morning cartoons in the late 80's Beeeeeep Beeeep Beep! Blankets get thrown Quick yawn and a stretch And I'm gone. Run to the cabinet grab my rescuer's toothbrush and colgate. Its the total complete toothpaste Brushing frantically in the pantry and I grab the frosty flake You know they're  Greeeeeeeat. Get to the sink and rinse with a swift swish and a spit. Done with that, as I dig through the drawers for my plastic Punch Bowl. Pour in the entire box of cereal and a half gallon of liquid gold 6:53am tap the power button on the remote control, stack all the pillows and blankets in the middle of the room, 5 min left till my favorite shows 7am and it begins, Spider-man and his amazing friends 7:30 and its the Wonder Twins Commercial break for school house rock, go take a **** then switch my cereal to cookie crisp 8am silver hawks and the copper kid, 8:30 voltron black lion forms the head While thunder cats at 9am battle Mumm-Ra the un-dead 930 pound puppies that was my thing Bright eyes, violet, and cooler was the man When 10am came that meant the shows were coming to an end. That half-hour reserved for Prince Adam of Eternia better known as He-man And the last of the shows came after 1030 to 11o'clock. Here came "the Little's" cuz the Little's don't stop. The sunlight peaking through the blinds, 11 years old, cereal all gone spazzed on a sugar rush, Waiting to play with my cousins. Grandma picks me up from uncle Gary then off to Dain and Tony for destruction, bike race, GI Joe and burgers from Rally's Those were the days The good ol days -Alexis J. Meighan- July 13 at 8:11pm ·
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33
Girl Can't be anything but A girl *** an ESP Girl Sensitive is weak Girl Rescued becomes rescuer Girl Dance for yourself Girl Water burns too Girl Came from his rib Girl He came from you Girl Bodies in quicksand Girl Stabbed your origins Girl Cheered for your tears Girl I told you so Girl When you went off alone Girl Perfume and death Girl While your wearing a ring Girl See the imprint it leaves Girl As you chisel it off
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Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 8:47 PM UTC
*** & ESP
Another ordinary day Or so seems from the Outside I portray I'm so content on the outside While my whole inside is Dark and grey My enemies reflect magnify And measure my flaws My friends are hurting from the pain that cancers cause It's not just one It's so many building up It's time to fix all this I've had enough I try to take matters Into my own hands Refuse to listen to Gods perfect plan I try to perfect my self Craving for escape And when I cave in It's not even worth the taste The numbers don't match up And this is getting tough It's all these things inside me All bottling up I've got to fix this all It's getting so rough I peer into the eyes of uncertainty loss an hurt I try to stay open when others slam you out I can see what your going through I know what hurt is all about I want to show who Is helping me But when I'm falling fast What example can I be Fix this please! No one getting any sleep Im losing fire inside of me I need some oxygen I need to breathe You're losing hope again The smiles are just pretend You need a rescuer You need to be set free
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Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 2:53 PM UTC
Set Free
Once upon a time There was a girl who dared to dream In the cold, air conditioned room of reality she sat For hours on end Suddenly, her rescuer appeared Golden yarns of sunshine leaked through the windows, Wrapping themselves around her, Pulling her away In the blink of an eye She was no longer in the place of gloom But in a magnificent garden Where flowers of every kind, like her, Dared to bloom She tarried there For hours, days, weeks Sitting amongst the blossoms Admiring them and befriending The other children who would arrive from their own prisons Each backstory unique, Some grotesque, some disheartening But that mattered not For the children would wrap their fingers Around each other's cold hands And begin again In this new, dreamlike place
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Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 10:00 AM UTC
Daydreaming
Invisible line of faith balances the rocks of life the sun and the moon the day and the night hopeful desires of the heart and the guilty reasons of the mind many a questions unanswered line of karma, hard to find Passive contentment that everything is right Or the proactive approach for the future bright Dwindling thoughts from extreme left to right Rescuer brain finds the middle path in sight Manisha
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Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
Balance
Unrepentant with a hole in her soul The brass faced liar has steely control Nothing fazez her. no fib was too big or small. Man this girl was a smooth criminal and a really close acquaintance She would give a polygraph the shakes and it's our little secret. umm, Mom and dad know. family secret. I reversed engineered the brass faced liar and all the tumblers clicked. The truth to her is like Kryptonite to Superman. I dropped a small stone down her throat one day and counted to ten before it hit bottom with a far away clunk.. Faceof brass ,heart of stone.animal rescuer Liar to the bone. Manipulates children poor self esteem Brass faced liar isn't what she seems. Out.  To impress now.finally starting to dress now Drawing flys like rotten meat. Wicked comes in all shapes and sizes Turn back the covers,know what your surprize is ?. A zombie in a guilded mask. Long dead and putrid..a walking talking husk. Lies pour out of her mouth like green blowflies And crawl back in under her disguise. To fester. Brass face jester R.I.P.
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Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 9:24 PM UTC
Brass faced liar
The sweet scarlet lady Condemned by the collective Piously cursed by all As they revel in their contemptuous scorn As a cocktail of lust and hate Is dealt to her by many With a heart crushing arrogance In this dark hidden world The spite of the respectable Is poured over her with a disregard That burns like a molten lead While on Saturday roses are pruned And front doors are painted She collects the angst And disappointments of lost youth Of the sleepy bitter soul As she becomes a giant dustbin For this world What great resilience What amazing strength As her ****** center dissolves All the unhappiness of this world As she is a hidden angel Defiled by the world she absorbs all For she is painted with the projections Of the worlds forbidden fruit But she is the rose tinted lady Dreaming of greater times A coffee in st Peterburgs square Oh what a brave dare filling her sisters needs With all these gracious deeds Living in this thankless world She is the rescuer of many men Used and abused by The emotionally inept She remains centered In a hidden dignity Only known by her As she gives and gives Many faces made and portrayed As she gives herself up She becomes a plasticine For the childish souls to play As she lives in a surrender That no monk would ever know Her surrender so complete she disappears into her center A holiness the devils mock And all the angels and Jesus flock Her submission to nature carrying A purity that says yes to life In the back drop of this world The Lord can only find a relief If we find the surface of a ********** ***** It is only because we project The dirt of our own soul As we defile their outside with our inside As they are truly hidden angels Sent to clean this world
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Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
THE **********
The sweet scarlet lady Condemned by the collective Piously cursed by all As they revel in their contemptuous scorn As a cocktail of lust and hate Is dealt to her by many With a heart crushing arrogance In this dark hidden world The spite of the respectable Is poured over her with a disregard That burns like a molten lead While on Saturday roses are pruned And front doors are painted She collects the angst And disappointments of lost youth Of the sleepy bitter soul As she becomes a giant dustbin For this world What great resilience What amazing strength As her ****** center dissolves All the unhappiness of this world As she is a hidden angel Defiled by the world she absorbs all For she is painted with the projections Of the worlds forbidden fruit But she is the rose tinted lady Dreaming of greater times A coffee in st Peterburgs square Oh what a brave dare filling her sisters needs With all these gracious deeds Living in this thankless world She is the rescuer of many men Used and abused by The emotionally inept She remains centered In a hidden dignity Only known by her As she gives and gives Many faces made and portrayed As she gives herself up She becomes a plasticine For the childish souls to play As she lives in a surrender That no monk would ever know Her surrender so complete she disappears into her center A holiness the devils mock And all the angels and Jesus flock Her submission to nature carrying A purity that says yes to life In the back drop of this world The Lord can only find a relief If we find the surface of a ********** ***** It is only because we project The dirt of our own soul As we defile their outside with our inside As they are truly hidden angels Sent to clean this world
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61
I was once a castaway Of an unforgiving sea I made a castle in the sand To ease the pain in me I made the ramparts ten feet tall The walls were four feet thick I filled the moat with lots of sharks I built it brick by brick I walked the walls most every day No rescuer about But I did not want folks to come in I wished to keep them out! The sand was cast in hate you see The mortar my foe's blood I repaired the walls quite often 'coz My inner tears would flood Within the walls, a prisoner, My anger was my meat My only water my own tears They washed about my feet Finally the water rose, From weeping, o'r my head Their waves erroded at the walls And the SEA was fed! Whilst the walls were quickly shrinking A tide, like floods, came in! All the sharks went out to sea, My destiny was grim! I made a fine, tall castle, yes, Of sand & shells & grout To shelter me within? Oh no! To keep my loved ones OUT! And others unforgiven. And the ones I hated. And other prejudices, yes, That went on unabated... And so I found a Mighty Rock Upon which I stood. I finally found life's meaning, *YES! I finally understood!* Forgiveness? A DECISION. To put pride on the shelf. And freeing up your fellow man You  become FREE YOURSELF. Though for years, I drank my tears, My thirst was never slaked. And hatred's fused & melted sand Does not a DIAMOND MAKE. SoulSurvivor (C) 4/3/2017
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Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 10:21 PM UTC
Castaway Castle
chasing other people's dreams like a star catcher with a net she holds onto hope while deceiving devastation reaching out her hand for the next victim of inspiration baring scars upon her body like battle wounds of lifetimes before each cut from failure of another disappointment leaving her exhausted, bruised and sore. she's a rescuer- a fixer upper new siding on an old slab house fresh paint on horribly marked walls fresh breath in a room of stale air. her heart beats at the ache of another tears ravage her own cheeks for the sake of someone else's heartbreak she's a rescuer a fixer upper for another person she will always wake- while waiting for someone to save her.
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Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
the rescuer needs rescued.
so let’s talk, old friend. what is it that you want to say to little old me? I’m not good enough? you don’t trust me? I’m not sure that’s my fault. I admit there were issues with our ship, but I didn’t wreck it. here we sit old friend, on this deserted island. each searching for something the other just can’t provide. I’m going to get up and run to the arms of my Strong Rescuer. while you sit in the sand, and continue to cry because no one will save you. I’m truly sorry that things didn’t go so well. but here’s the thing, I’m making my way off this island. you won’t come with me so I’ll have to leave you behind, but you have to at least try. I’ll see you again sometime in the future, once you have let your feet lead you to the Rescuer.   for now, goodbye old friend.
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 7:06 PM UTC
stranded together
While many slept and all nuzzled in their beds There were others driving on the road The winter mist all happened like this The biggest snowstorm suddenly came It was direct with precise aim At first the snow came down light Then with the added fog it became a blinding sight What a holiday feel in the Christmas reel As the snow got heavy it became a blanket of white To all the kids it was a beautiful sight School would definitely be closed The Teachers would be happy also I suppose Kids all played in the snow Yet this was a day to make a snowman Cars, trucks and buses all stuck in where they were Buses not having any heat Stranded with no food to eat Everyone caught in defeat Suddenly a dog driven sleigh added towards rescuer way There were no words that anybody could say Mighty as the snowstorm It was a definitely a adventure being the norm It was an icy chill Everyone nuzzled together in warmth being still Mind over matter Oh yeah there was plenty of chatter Like a miracle everyone made it through the snowstorm A snowstorm that all started that night It was one bright star that shined ever so bright It once seemed snowstorm was going to cause a plight But the snowstorm brought people together and no one was uptight As another night approaches and I say good night.
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Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
IT HAPPENED AT MIDNIGHT
It's her, the woman of steely resolve, who fills every lighted part of my consciousness,so thankful, I am to her The wife who never lets down her man who faltered and fell, love being the ***** in her armor she is careful not to hurt there, our eyes exchange texts, only we could read and an instance She was the one who found me out lost from the neighborhood of her heart, brought me back from the outback from the jaws of the beasts of prey, where i was stuck in a thorny thicket, lost almost for ever bleeding,pale, if only she didn't decide to conduct a one woman adventure, a rescue mission against all odds,with much ***** and presence of mind, one rarely see even in alpha males,who habitually boast aloud,of having ***** to stand up against any adversity and fight. For me it was she who did it and all alone! Young and callow, a bird of infirm wings still, alone i flew long distances circled around,hallucinatory visions, lost my way, eventually went down, my love may have failed before, but she happened ,in the moment of epiphany, otherwise would I ask her , without a second thought to be with me all through the journey of my life? It would not have been,but her heart listened to my voice wistfully spoke to it, as if becoming weak, caught in a storm lashed over the thicket and she came searching at the right time, rescuing me . Gun fights and volcano eruptions we survive, even thunder storms, mad dog attacks and cheats, broken hearts and misfortunes of every kind too. Never do I forget this dear face of courage, the woman staying firmly behind me, a sturdy rock, sticking to her faith on me and a prayer on her lips, with the staunch belief that I'll come out a winner.
0
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 6:07 AM UTC
The spunky lady, rescuer of me
It's her, the woman of steely resolve, who fills every lighted part of my consciousness,so thankful, I am to her The wife who never lets down her man who faltered and fell, love being the ***** in her armor she is careful not to hurt there, our eyes exchange texts, only we could read and an instance She was the one who found me out lost from the neighborhood of her heart, brought me back from the outback from the jaws of the beasts of prey, where i was stuck in a thorny thicket, lost almost for ever bleeding,pale, if only she didn't decide to conduct a one woman adventure, a rescue mission against all odds,with much ***** and presence of mind, one rarely see even in alpha males,who habitually boast aloud,of having ***** to stand up against any adversity and fight. For me it was she who did it and all alone! Young and callow, a bird of infirm wings still, alone i flew long distances circled around,hallucinatory visions, lost my way, eventually went down, my love may have failed before, but she happened ,in the moment of epiphany, otherwise would I ask her , without a second thought to be with me all through the journey of my life? It would not have been,but her heart listened to my voice wistfully spoke to it, as if becoming weak, caught in a storm lashed over the thicket and she came searching at the right time, rescuing me . Gun fights and volcano eruptions we survive, even thunder storms, mad dog attacks and cheats, broken hearts and misfortunes of every kind too. Never do I forget this dear face of courage, the woman staying firmly behind me, a sturdy rock, sticking to her faith on me and a prayer on her lips, with the staunch belief that I'll come out a winner.
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Self deceived, I squander marrow, I masquerade the straight and narrow, Seasons stretched, my essence hollows, Desire, dreams and purpose follows. My journey dulled by everyday, Monotony, days veiled in grey, Life's sombre ruin underway, Significance, my yesterday. Deceit defends; my bow and arrow, Mentality in disarray, Love recedes, eternal sorrow, Vitality wearing away. Before me you materialize, Rescuer, hero undisguised, Bore truth, bore love, to my surprise, Abetted, found what underlies. Imminent growth, restored, I ascend, Weakness' welcomed, defenses end, No longer wish to play pretend, More pleased than I could comprehend. Discovered where desire lies. Forever impassioned, we transcend Forsaw my future in your eyes, My flame, my lover, my best friend.
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Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 6:33 PM UTC
Forever Impassioned
The brightest star up in the sky, My head tilts back as I look up to my hero The star light kissed my cheek, and glows against my bones Sweet, Sarcastic, and serious – so solid with compassion I can call upon him at any moment, and without any doubt, He will be there if it’s a car crash, broken toe or a stupid boy who crashed my heart Time never seems like an obstacle to be a super hero Sweeter than a big butter cream flower on my birthday cake and selfless for his blood I’m a princess of the king He’s a soldier and was a hero in the god forsaken fight of life Taught the best lessons by the most heartless teachers One would think he’s granite cold But none the less he’s hot coffee Warming you through after the first gulp Reaching out to every sense Comforting and calming the tension In your bubbling veins My father is my rescuer Peanut butter lover A freshly crackled glow sticks in the dark A fighter for love and life He’s my daddy and my friend I’m his little girl for life
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Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 2:06 PM UTC
Ode To My Dad
The death toll is still rising, our pain has just begun. A tragedy has happened, in this city under the sun. Airplanes that were hijacked, and filled with human life. Beaten and tortured along the way, while some were killed with a knife. Used for mass destruction, the airplanes hit the wall. Everyone was powerless, as the Twin Towers began to fall. A plume of dust and smoke, both fill the city sky. The towers crumbled downward, and our country began to cry. Survivors walk the streets, wondering how this can be. Dirt and smoke have covered them, and there barely able to see. Some are trapped inside this mess, hoping to get out. The rescuer's are working hard, trying to hear them shout. Another plane hits the Pentagon, with a mighty blow it seems. Here we sit in total shock, and listen to the screams. Now our country is in pain, a war is on the way. This world unites in tragedy, on this hurtful day.
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Oct 17, 2010
Oct 17, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
September 11, 2001
I have fallen into the pit. And as I stretch my arms and hope for wing I remember I am no angel. Flailing through the air I hold my breath denying the loneliness in that hangs there. I am not lonely! I scream in my head though the only thing that passes my lips are the silent sobs and gasps of the tears that streak my face. The pit is not silent. You would think with no one around there would be no words but the voices in my head say differently. They pick my every flaw. They strip me of my hope and inhibition and it is they who pointed out my lonely pit. They where the ones who pushed me into the pit in the first place, after all. Monophobia. Philophobia. Together they morphed and created a pit for me to fall in. And they mock as I begin to hope for a rescuer, I have to wings and they pit has no end. I want to be saved but I do not want to fall in love. It hurts too much. Tired of being alone and too afraid to try to fall in love I stretch my arms out on more time.... As the pit takes over my heart....and pretend wing spring from my back. The feathers are onyx black and i know better than to try the fly. The pit has consumed me and I have embraced its darkness.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
The Pit