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"revoke" poems
Forget the days we shared Forget the smiles, the tears, the words too coarse to bear. Forget the blooms in Spring dancing through the air Forget the garden we abandoned there Leave thorns of plenty, and roses rare Forget the voice of a sweet melody Forget the buzzing bees tending to honey Forget the notion of you and me Forget the spices in recipes spoilt The taste is a bitter sweet result Forget what weather we braved together Forget the cliche that everything gets better Forget what you want to remember Forget what should be and what doesn't matter Revoke your thoughts, the hypocrisy they flatter. Forget waking up in warming arms, Seducing me with your charms Forget whatever you gave me, though it wasn't much A breath, A kiss, A touch. Enough! Forget all that I've said These thoughts turning in my head Filling me with dread The words I've written and you have read Forget it! Those days are over my mind is set Forget we ever met.
0
Mar 1, 2011
Mar 1, 2011 at 2:56 PM UTC
Forget Me, Forget Me Not
like Gatsby no longer happy hosting a party I know longer enjoy all I have wanted and now I want nothing so like Gatsby I revoke my R.S.V.P I leave my party I go I leave I die nothing like Gatsby just happy
0
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 5:28 PM UTC
Gatsby ( 2008)
Leave me to be young, to shrivel. A white gardenia always must wither, and shrivel; Die. Leave me to marry, to love. A heart can pump alone I assure you, leave me to revoke my own sins. A lost cause you take me, and your silence will break me. Your pesticides will **** off anything natural I possess! A White Gardenia must shrivel and, die. Success is what disillusions me, in pretense I fight. A war on egos, envy and such! It is all I know in my mechanical set-up, is to follow the world in it's redundant tide. A White Gardenia can bloom, it can shrivel, wither. A White Gardenia always must die.
0
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 1:37 PM UTC
The White Gardenia
Oh, how I wish you still called To hear that crack in your voice Flaws and all You were still my first choice. Oh, how I wish you still called To talk the fears back Because since we fell off It brought the tears back. The comforted words you spoke The life in your laugh All the memories I have to revoke Brings all the pain back.
0
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
Oh, how I wish...
What happened to the dandies Those gentlemen of the grandest Culture Destroyers of dreaded boundaries Mockers of meaningless morality Inquisitors of a profound lack of imagination Guardians of good taste Messengers of modernity What happened to those 19th century hipsters Who so gracefully dissected Society And whose wit and wisdom Shook the foundations Of mainstream hypocrisy Of inept intellectualism And lamentable lies We are in dire need of retrieving The lost art of being a dandy To shake the foundations once more And to revoke the righteous rage Of the cultural creed To set society aflame With wit and wisdom
0
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 10:01 AM UTC
The lost art of being a dandy
your words once again have made so cold my skin i pray for someone to turn my mind, revoke my sin take your wounds and cover them up with a bandage of denial a seed of doubt planted in our minds your heart shut down closed for now you say it numbs the pain prevention of undeniable grief you stole your own happiness a selfless thief perhaps the wind will blow again away your troubles forget your sins if only if only the rain would return to wash me wayward and beyond thought to the wistful wonders of a world without you
0
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
seabreeze
By: Cedric McClester Be careful what you say Your words can convey A message that uplifts Just like birthday gifts Or by their mere sound Bring someone down Cos words can be profound Whether adjective or noun Think before you speak And be kind to the meek Words can soothe away The worries of the day Or words can cause pain And bring nothing but disdain They can linger and remain Implanted in your brain Words can be like tools For geniuses or fools But once they're cast about They remove any doubt About whoever spoke them And it's hard to revoke them So try not to provoke them Better that you yoke them Words better left unsaid Should remain in your head Once they're in the atmosphere They can't simply disappear Consider this when you speak Or an errant word might leak Even when it's tongue and cheek That excuse is very weak (c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
0
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
WORDS (Be Careful What You Say)
On crimson tides we ebb and flow no technicolor dreams to show the darkness falls at our behest as from our hands the senses wrest take the tincture to ease the pain release the heart from this dark refrain shadows revoke our light of day to incumbent solace we must sway
0
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
Crimson tides
oh my baby expectant seeds of memory and truth do surge in unanticipated but ****** flows surge and bring thee closer; no, into my realm; devolve mysteries resolve the unsolved, evoke and revoke my stain, my misery be my home: forlorn as i am I stand proud as your knight and you my Queen.
0
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
evoke...
My soul ached For his skin and bones And all the beating somethings in between- That nothing, Perhaps not even time, Could revoke the hormone-driven, Empty-souled desire I had For every participle of his being To deluge me through my core And past every withering remain Of sanity or stability I so feebly clung to.
0
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 5:58 PM UTC
Pyrrhic
#Anonymous  (1730s ?) In good King Charles's golden days, When Loyalty no harm meant; A Furious High-Church man I was, And so I gain'd Preferment. Unto my Flock I daily Preached, Kings are by God appointed, And Damn'd are those who dare resist, Or touch the Lord's Anointed. ***And this is law, I will maintain Unto my Dying Day, Sir. That whatsoever King may reign, I shall be Vicar of Bray, Sir!*** When Royal James possessed the crown, And popery grew in fashion; The Penal Law I hooted down, And read the Declaration: The Church of Rome I found would fit Full well my Constitution, And I had been a Jesuit, But for the Revolution.  And this is Law, &c. When William our Deliverer came, To heal the Nation's Grievance, I turned the Cat in Pan again, And swore to him Allegiance: Old Principles I did revoke, Set conscience at a distance, Passive Obedience is a Joke, A Jest is non-resistance.   And this is Law, &c.; When Royal Ann became our Queen, Then Church of England's Glory, Another face of things was seen, And I became a Tory: Occasional Conformists base I Damn'd, and Moderation, And thought the Church in danger was, From such Prevarication.   And this is Law, &c.; When George in Pudding time came o'er, And Moderate Men looked big, Sir, My Principles I changed once more, And so became a Whig, Sir. And thus Preferment I procured, From our Faith's great Defender, And almost every day abjur'd The Pope, and the Pretender.   And this is Law, &c.; The Illustrious House of Hanover, And Protestant succession, To these I lustily will swear, Whilst they can keep possession: For in my Faith, and Loyalty, I never once will falter, But George, my lawful king shall be, Except the Times should alter.   And this is Law, &c;.
0
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 11:06 PM UTC
The Vicar of Bray
#Anonymous  (1730s ?) In good King Charles's golden days, When Loyalty no harm meant; A Furious High-Church man I was, And so I gain'd Preferment. Unto my Flock I daily Preached, Kings are by God appointed, And Damn'd are those who dare resist, Or touch the Lord's Anointed. ***And this is law, I will maintain Unto my Dying Day, Sir. That whatsoever King may reign, I shall be Vicar of Bray, Sir!*** When Royal James possessed the crown, And popery grew in fashion; The Penal Law I hooted down, And read the Declaration: The Church of Rome I found would fit Full well my Constitution, And I had been a Jesuit, But for the Revolution.  And this is Law, &c. When William our Deliverer came, To heal the Nation's Grievance, I turned the Cat in Pan again, And swore to him Allegiance: Old Principles I did revoke, Set conscience at a distance, Passive Obedience is a Joke, A Jest is non-resistance.   And this is Law, &c.; When Royal Ann became our Queen, Then Church of England's Glory, Another face of things was seen, And I became a Tory: Occasional Conformists base I Damn'd, and Moderation, And thought the Church in danger was, From such Prevarication.   And this is Law, &c.; When George in Pudding time came o'er, And Moderate Men looked big, Sir, My Principles I changed once more, And so became a Whig, Sir. And thus Preferment I procured, From our Faith's great Defender, And almost every day abjur'd The Pope, and the Pretender.   And this is Law, &c.; The Illustrious House of Hanover, And Protestant succession, To these I lustily will swear, Whilst they can keep possession: For in my Faith, and Loyalty, I never once will falter, But George, my lawful king shall be, Except the Times should alter.   And this is Law, &c;.
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58
Tired of explaining       Ignoring the presence of my stillness== as you walk with bitterness== your radiance is no longer true== a melody with seduction over due== the song so bad wiped out by you== rotating my abdomen== from the soul== the worms inside== they all die== under your control== separating the way== is as if though== all the beauty in the world== up and lived== you are more than i need== drowning in my own abyss== judging you one== right after the other== a hellish so profound== Revelations passed so suddenly== expression of limbo i replay== the revenge== the revoke== suffer catting my oxygen== they illness== then lifeless== they identify== then disgust== never play the sensitive== feel my needs== like the wound full of abscess== a sore to never go away== yes like the illness== then lifeless== dropped addict== these shivers down my spine== identify, escape, abuse of certain== announcing it even more== proof that i am found== out of love== the mind finally receives== Revolution with open eyes== the heart is trapped to proceed== clever than the open skies== old sweat glands in my hand== retiring the mind== the best of my heart has no stand== died from your retrieving cries== advancing to my knowledge== the darkness that you lend== DISCLOSURE== to== in the depth of your eyes == i run before you hypnotize== oblivion to the Valley of your wits== refusing to relive the song== feeling that are gone== never will it feel right== i still feel the rotation== exhale went out your soul== exiting far from sight== revoke an end to your light== a kiss of death to you good night== a kiss of death to you good night== By: p.d.
0
Jun 2, 2010
Jun 2, 2010 at 3:58 AM UTC
Tired of Explaining
Tired of explaining       Ignoring the presence of my stillness== as you walk with bitterness== your radiance is no longer true== a melody with seduction over due== the song so bad wiped out by you== rotating my abdomen== from the soul== the worms inside== they all die== under your control== separating the way== is as if though== all the beauty in the world== up and lived== you are more than i need== drowning in my own abyss== judging you one== right after the other== a hellish so profound== Revelations passed so suddenly== expression of limbo i replay== the revenge== the revoke== suffer catting my oxygen== they illness== then lifeless== they identify== then disgust== never play the sensitive== feel my needs== like the wound full of abscess== a sore to never go away== yes like the illness== then lifeless== dropped addict== these shivers down my spine== identify, escape, abuse of certain== announcing it even more== proof that i am found== out of love== the mind finally receives== Revolution with open eyes== the heart is trapped to proceed== clever than the open skies== old sweat glands in my hand== retiring the mind== the best of my heart has no stand== died from your retrieving cries== advancing to my knowledge== the darkness that you lend== DISCLOSURE== to== in the depth of your eyes == i run before you hypnotize== oblivion to the Valley of your wits== refusing to relive the song== feeling that are gone== never will it feel right== i still feel the rotation== exhale went out your soul== exiting far from sight== revoke an end to your light== a kiss of death to you good night== a kiss of death to you good night== By: p.d.
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66
always woke up with nothing to say to her not a thing. we slept in rooms separate, but she would bust in on me, occasionally, to have an occasion, never knocking, just door pounding, just to annoy, just to see if I still cared, hoping to revoke what passed for pseudo-serenity. some times entireties would pass before you had the energies to swing your legs over the side of the day~bed, conceding, white flag surrendering, losing the commencing-avoidance of the start-of-the-day battle of pseudo-existence. hoping against hope you don't meet, hoping against hope she doesn't say accidentally, good morning. so you don't have to Lincoln~Douglas debate, aerate, concentrate, orate, how to answer without bitterness intended to maim. knowing you could not e'er possess a good morning, day, night, by definition, by ruling of the gods in charge of never. sometimes you made it out of the apartment that had no ingress, only egress, happy happy no converse. used to go to a Barnes & Noble, get a refillable endless Starbucks, from open to closing. read all day, sitting with strangers, till my **** hurt so bad, didn't think I could walk again. now and then, smiled at the ladies, tho nothing could come of it, nothing ever did. she never asked me where I egressed too. didn't care, that was better for sanitizing my pseudo-sanity. came home cautiously, door opening silently in case I was home prematurely, she still there. sometimes you wake up with nothing to say to yourself. that is even worse, cause the meaning clear, breaking point is near. have a picture of me from those days. a cellphone photo I took myself, of course. serious, bearded, short haired, red eyed, unfiltered. Sometimes I think I will banner it, so you can tap into a part of me that words just cannot do injustice to, more than was already done. here, while composing, I fell asleep. tired? maybe.  maybe, sometimes you just don't want to remember.
0
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 11:46 AM UTC
Always woke up with nothing to say to her
always woke up with nothing to say to her not a thing. we slept in rooms separate, but she would bust in on me, occasionally, to have an occasion, never knocking, just door pounding, just to annoy, just to see if I still cared, hoping to revoke what passed for pseudo-serenity. some times entireties would pass before you had the energies to swing your legs over the side of the day~bed, conceding, white flag surrendering, losing the commencing-avoidance of the start-of-the-day battle of pseudo-existence. hoping against hope you don't meet, hoping against hope she doesn't say accidentally, good morning. so you don't have to Lincoln~Douglas debate, aerate, concentrate, orate, how to answer without bitterness intended to maim. knowing you could not e'er possess a good morning, day, night, by definition, by ruling of the gods in charge of never. sometimes you made it out of the apartment that had no ingress, only egress, happy happy no converse. used to go to a Barnes & Noble, get a refillable endless Starbucks, from open to closing. read all day, sitting with strangers, till my **** hurt so bad, didn't think I could walk again. now and then, smiled at the ladies, tho nothing could come of it, nothing ever did. she never asked me where I egressed too. didn't care, that was better for sanitizing my pseudo-sanity. came home cautiously, door opening silently in case I was home prematurely, she still there. sometimes you wake up with nothing to say to yourself. that is even worse, cause the meaning clear, breaking point is near. have a picture of me from those days. a cellphone photo I took myself, of course. serious, bearded, short haired, red eyed, unfiltered. Sometimes I think I will banner it, so you can tap into a part of me that words just cannot do injustice to, more than was already done. here, while composing, I fell asleep. tired? maybe.  maybe, sometimes you just don't want to remember.
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75
We will live like smoke. Free and flowing and forever changing. Shaped by the wind and carried by invisible powers. Love will lift us, trust will twist us, energy will enter us and in the dark assist us. We will be tendrils tumbling smooth. Never captured never controlled. If people were fire, you'd be a pyre and we'd be the sparks in the wind. We will live like shooting stars. Bright and surprising and ever-enticing. Burned in your sight so even when you close your eyes we shine. When you sleep we will soar, when you're wishing for more, t'will be us that you see out your window. We will live like dragons of old. The legends become us, and we become told. You'll hear of our ventures, 'How daring!' 'How bold!', but your eyes only glisten with the flash of fool's gold. We dragons have secrets to uplift your soul, we can strip off your shackles and let wings unfold. If only you'll listen to tales gone untold, we whisper the truth; You're being controlled. Just like the mice who are trapped in a maze, you sense out your prize and move on your way. But all routes have been found, to keep you contained, and though down on the ground, you feel unafraid, if you look up and around, you can see that you're caged. Even our paper has lines there to rule us, but essence and vapor have no need for cruel 'must'. So if you find out that the chains are unjust, remember that even iron can rust. A word of advice, for those who revoke, do not fear fire, once you've awoke. There's no hidden danger, dagger or cloak; For it is us Dragons, that live in the smoke.
0
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 5:29 PM UTC
We Will Live Like Smoke
We will live like smoke. Free and flowing and forever changing. Shaped by the wind and carried by invisible powers. Love will lift us, trust will twist us, energy will enter us and in the dark assist us. We will be tendrils tumbling smooth. Never captured never controlled. If people were fire, you'd be a pyre and we'd be the sparks in the wind. We will live like shooting stars. Bright and surprising and ever-enticing. Burned in your sight so even when you close your eyes we shine. When you sleep we will soar, when you're wishing for more, t'will be us that you see out your window. We will live like dragons of old. The legends become us, and we become told. You'll hear of our ventures, 'How daring!' 'How bold!', but your eyes only glisten with the flash of fool's gold. We dragons have secrets to uplift your soul, we can strip off your shackles and let wings unfold. If only you'll listen to tales gone untold, we whisper the truth; You're being controlled. Just like the mice who are trapped in a maze, you sense out your prize and move on your way. But all routes have been found, to keep you contained, and though down on the ground, you feel unafraid, if you look up and around, you can see that you're caged. Even our paper has lines there to rule us, but essence and vapor have no need for cruel 'must'. So if you find out that the chains are unjust, remember that even iron can rust. A word of advice, for those who revoke, do not fear fire, once you've awoke. There's no hidden danger, dagger or cloak; For it is us Dragons, that live in the smoke.
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6
She laughed. It was a mirthless sound, full of echoes and taught with strain A sharp flash of insight to some pulsing, deep-rooted ache; A crackling outburst of electricity With heat and light searing through, The passageway opportunely provided By the void in the afflicted sound All which dimmed swiftly As the noise abruptly faltered, Caught, died. With it died his illumination Of some burning passion she kept, Deeply hidden, closely guarded. The sound and percipience had ended. She could not revoke the gesture. A silent ambivalence grew quickly.
0
Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 3:29 AM UTC
Glimpse
Litigation of repressed distraught, Ambiguous embellishments of euphoria, Cast asunder infatuation in hopes her eyes capture, Perchance hell revoke my admission and allow an old soul A craved desire coveted keenly upon the heaving ***** Lest I cling tight with passion adieu, And ****** not skin but a heeded heart, summation of abysmal damnation. Capture my love hold dearly my heart in your claimed hand...
0
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
somewhere
<soft spoken intro> ...see your still here again,     .....think your still welcome here?                  ...here, huh Closed our mills, took our jobs, put in down our throats, Fed us lies, took the pensions, thought we were a joke, Media all bia's -steal my sentence, voted 'ere to revoke, Cratering down! Cratering down the steepest slope! *We're taking you, out back and to the side, Gonna be a genocide...* *We're taking you, out back and to the side, Gonna be a genocide...* White people,      are raging, against,            The Machine.. So Welcome, welcome...welcome...       To The Machine...             Floyd I once woke up covered in blood on my parent's steps, My truck was miles away on the side of the road. *We're taking you, out back and to the side, Gonna be a genocide...*
0
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 11:22 PM UTC
******* Rap
I'll keep drinking my coffee, but i'm afraid of the crash the life i've lived lying in front of me in tiny remnants staring at the basket, i wish to smell that sweet orange i wish i felt something when my young sister dances "just open your eyes" she said "you will see the pathway" darling, you know i would, but i'm afraid to peek "But i remember you running in the dark, never reluctant to peek you knew that i had you, i'd never let you crash i crushed all of the sticks under my feet, creating a pathway all you had left were the shameful remnants at the end of the night you said that the leaves did their dances don't you remember when i picked you that orange?" she thinks i can smell that sweet scent of an orange i'm certain i could, if i were back at my peak those were the times i could join in on her dances the days when beauty could revoke the crash before my soul felt scattered to remnants an illuminating light created my pathway "sister, my darling, your pathway is gold the grass that surrounds it turns orange from light soon all the green will be remnants of dark the sun will shine bright from the peak the crash you are feeling only hurts for a while it all blows away when the leaves do their dances" my sister she dances at the thought of this all leaving her pathway of charm and beauty i've never seen such perfection crash or come close her twirling body, her orange locks falling gently at the peak of her shoulders my sister she left me her remnants of toast i watch her continue her dances of joy she noticed me peak as i sipped on my tea her pathway, large enough for us both to enjoy i peeled the last orange, breathed in its citrus scent the empty tea mug made a crash in the sink
0
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 6:50 AM UTC
sestina with a little bit of a twist
I'll keep drinking my coffee, but i'm afraid of the crash the life i've lived lying in front of me in tiny remnants staring at the basket, i wish to smell that sweet orange i wish i felt something when my young sister dances "just open your eyes" she said "you will see the pathway" darling, you know i would, but i'm afraid to peek "But i remember you running in the dark, never reluctant to peek you knew that i had you, i'd never let you crash i crushed all of the sticks under my feet, creating a pathway all you had left were the shameful remnants at the end of the night you said that the leaves did their dances don't you remember when i picked you that orange?" she thinks i can smell that sweet scent of an orange i'm certain i could, if i were back at my peak those were the times i could join in on her dances the days when beauty could revoke the crash before my soul felt scattered to remnants an illuminating light created my pathway "sister, my darling, your pathway is gold the grass that surrounds it turns orange from light soon all the green will be remnants of dark the sun will shine bright from the peak the crash you are feeling only hurts for a while it all blows away when the leaves do their dances" my sister she dances at the thought of this all leaving her pathway of charm and beauty i've never seen such perfection crash or come close her twirling body, her orange locks falling gently at the peak of her shoulders my sister she left me her remnants of toast i watch her continue her dances of joy she noticed me peak as i sipped on my tea her pathway, large enough for us both to enjoy i peeled the last orange, breathed in its citrus scent the empty tea mug made a crash in the sink
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35
When breathing will only bring pain,
 The kind of pain that is emotional,
 You have no choice that seems rational
 But to exert all force to feign
 Some sort of spirit that seems real
 To everyone around you.
 Only the slightest few
 Will understand how you really feel.
 That small percentage of folk
 Might even only include one
 Who will straighten your backbone
 And your right to whine revoke.
 Forever you’ll have someone to defend,
 As she has become your best friend.
0
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
Semi-Sonnet
Giving kisses won't take back the excuses you gave an embrace can't erase what you did "good deeds" don't make up for the terrible ones being here now doesn't change that you hid words won't rebuild the bridges you burned silence won't forget the words that were spoken time won't heal the wounds you inflicted good intentions can't remake what was broken lending a hand won't wipe old tears away telling the truth won't atone for your lies being friendly doesn't revoke you as a traitor there is no gift that could un-sever our ties there is no response in which I answer your call no plead that would sway my last choice nothing is persuading my mind otherwise I can't stand the sound of you voice it doesn't matter what you believe i don't care if you thinks it's a crime nothing you do will break down these walls sorry for wasting your time
0
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
Excuses
i am the forgotten son. cast down from the kingdom, kicked out of the family name, removed from patriarchal figures all my fathers now revoke the names they'd given me. i am the forgotten son. my loud words resonate in none of the senses of my fathers. i am truly the son, forsaken. thank god.
0
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 3:18 AM UTC
dear paul, dear god, dear paul, dear god, dear paul, dear god.
The depths of nothing rise and fall creating tones unknowable to the human ear invisible to the eye Creating a labyrinth to confuse her to evoke feelings in her to make her revoke those feelings and crush them into nothing to be plunged into the depths And become the depths themselves.
0
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 10:58 PM UTC
Corner
I've seen more beer cans on the ground of the backstreets of my town than kids playing outside I hear the background music of apps like temple run more often than I hear book pages being flipped on a train While hearing the explanation to why my friend is in a fight with her boyfriend key words like "opened my snapchat" "read my text" "ignored my dm" are brought up more than you can ever imagine I stand up for millennials, I am a millennial but in light of the good we cannot ignore the bad we have made technological advances that once were unfathomable We have made scientific discoveries that were once unimaginable We are the future But we can not ignore how we might lead to our own downfall We are the future But do we want our kids to live in an even more intense version of this technological blur This addiction, this technological addiction will lead to our own demise The youth will never see another playground again because they can visit one in their screen for points Children today are addicted to phones before they can even project their own sentences Adults use it as an escape to quiet their kids for a little, "to distract them" "keep them occupied" A few years later they ask them why they never leave their room, why they are glued to their laptop You cannot punish the robot you created You cannot revoke the escape key you once gave them There is a problem in today's generation And we need it to change One day iWish to walk the streets of my town and see more children than empty bud lights
0
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 7:28 PM UTC
Generaton iDemise
I've seen more beer cans on the ground of the backstreets of my town than kids playing outside I hear the background music of apps like temple run more often than I hear book pages being flipped on a train While hearing the explanation to why my friend is in a fight with her boyfriend key words like "opened my snapchat" "read my text" "ignored my dm" are brought up more than you can ever imagine I stand up for millennials, I am a millennial but in light of the good we cannot ignore the bad we have made technological advances that once were unfathomable We have made scientific discoveries that were once unimaginable We are the future But we can not ignore how we might lead to our own downfall We are the future But do we want our kids to live in an even more intense version of this technological blur This addiction, this technological addiction will lead to our own demise The youth will never see another playground again because they can visit one in their screen for points Children today are addicted to phones before they can even project their own sentences Adults use it as an escape to quiet their kids for a little, "to distract them" "keep them occupied" A few years later they ask them why they never leave their room, why they are glued to their laptop You cannot punish the robot you created You cannot revoke the escape key you once gave them There is a problem in today's generation And we need it to change One day iWish to walk the streets of my town and see more children than empty bud lights
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20
All it takes is you believing we could make this work,     but leaving          just to lurk     prompting grieving          just to perk                 me up ascending on some chariot you broke                             defending all the arson in the mirrors with the smoke I cough, and choke til I awoke        the words still stuck inside my throat        you swore you wrote this swollen note Tell me then, pleading, revoke to which you reply, I misspoke. All it takes is you believing faintly, even so I'll pound pavement retrieving anything we need to go. All it takes is you believing and I'll vicious fight our cause til I'm buried or I'm ashes consuming body by my mind which precedence for you defined to hush protests below mustaches bristled veil the daily grind and anyone leaves us behind sees our reflections brightly shined and they all crashes and they all crashes all it takes is you believing.
0
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
ToPasa