"somebodys" poems - Hello Poetry

I really think that it is just a sin. That when there is trouble The Big Boys join in. They all come across saying that they'll make a change and then somebodys World they will then rearange. The US and Russia along with us Brits don't want it that way so we blow it to bits. We give guns to him, supply arms to another. Then we sit back and watch as Brother kills Brother. Who are we to guide? Who are we to preach. When we cling on to their assets like a blood ******* leach. We should leave others alone till our own house is done, yet we watch as our schools become run by the gun. Where now it's the norm to be shot as we learn, just as long as big commerce is able to earn. Those who should know better don't know how to behave Happy to see another Child in a Grave. So you Big Boys go elsewhere because it's well known that if you come to play you come armed with a Drone. While you're sitting back comfy in your armchair. You can relentlessly **** from a place that's not there. Then when you pull the plug and remove your devices we are faced with a problem of people making bad choices. We have made problems worse! We have let people down and when we get a world crisis we'll react with a frown. We don't want them here. They cannot go there. A whole host of humanity who is welcome Nowhere. We created this problem! We created this way. So in the future keep The Big Boys away.

0

Oct 3, 2015

Oct 3, 2015 at 1:56 PM UTC

christopher-k-bayliss

The Big Boys

I really think that it is just a sin. That when there is trouble The Big Boys join in. They all come across saying that they'll make a change and then somebodys World they will then rearange. The US and Russia along with us Brits don't want it that way so we blow it to bits. We give guns to him, supply arms to another. Then we sit back and watch as Brother kills Brother. Who are we to guide? Who are we to preach. When we cling on to their assets like a blood ******* leach. We should leave others alone till our own house is done, yet we watch as our schools become run by the gun. Where now it's the norm to be shot as we learn, just as long as big commerce is able to earn. Those who should know better don't know how to behave Happy to see another Child in a Grave. So you Big Boys go elsewhere because it's well known that if you come to play you come armed with a Drone. While you're sitting back comfy in your armchair. You can relentlessly **** from a place that's not there. Then when you pull the plug and remove your devices we are faced with a problem of people making bad choices. We have made problems worse! We have let people down and when we get a world crisis we'll react with a frown. We don't want them here. They cannot go there. A whole host of humanity who is welcome Nowhere. We created this problem! We created this way. So in the future keep The Big Boys away.

56

TRUE RELIGION *If you must **** for your religion Then your religion is not true For the true God showed compassion And he died for me and you No true religion will require That you take somebodys life You cannot force them to believe When they don't think the way you like A true religion sees no difference In those who will believe Men and women stand together And as equals they are seen The choice it must be given For a religion to be true It is only God from up above Who in the end can then judge you If you must **** for your religion Then your religion is not true For the true God showed compassion And he died for me and you* Poem by: Carl Joseph Roberts Please add to a few collections and help trend

0

Feb 18, 2015

Feb 18, 2015 at 6:19 AM UTC

carl-joseph-roberts

True Religion

TRUE RELIGION *If you must **** for your religion Then your religion is not true For the true God showed compassion And he died for me and you No true religion will require That you take somebodys life You cannot force them to believe When they don't think the way you like A true religion sees no difference In those who will believe Men and women stand together And as equals they are seen The choice it must be given For a religion to be true It is only God from up above Who in the end can then judge you If you must **** for your religion Then your religion is not true For the true God showed compassion And he died for me and you* Poem by: Carl Joseph Roberts Please add to a few collections and help trend

23

There's too much of me So I slice into parts Don't know who I am Who I was Where to start My fingertips stained a raspberry color Let's cut off another Another Another My softness dismantled Set the mood light some candles This hole inside grows So I must learn to handle Those times where my head was held under water Men dont give a **** if "that's somebodys daughter" When all that you've taught me is I should be better I think of my past self and send em a letter The version of me that was put under ground Carving into myself cause I cant speak out loud Skipping breakfast and dinner or stuffing our faces For some sense of control To hope it erases The feeling inside that all that you can be Is how flesh meat and bone Hangs off of your body When your own heart could stop From barely a flutter Flesh of the womb Laying wet in the gutter Taking what's ours They go on with their lives Resorted to tonics and herbs Backyards and midwives He said it's not that bad you ******* faker Beat in her face Just to text her phone later All my exes are crazy I just wanted to bang her Cut her down from the rafters when you know what hanged her It's funny it's sad at the end of the day We're in hell together Across hot coals we lay Dress your own wounds Don't bend over for them Instead let's Redacted Redacted Redacted

0

Aug 9, 2023

Aug 9, 2023 at 12:00 AM UTC

RatQueen

Redacted

There's too much of me So I slice into parts Don't know who I am Who I was Where to start My fingertips stained a raspberry color Let's cut off another Another Another My softness dismantled Set the mood light some candles This hole inside grows So I must learn to handle Those times where my head was held under water Men dont give a **** if "that's somebodys daughter" When all that you've taught me is I should be better I think of my past self and send em a letter The version of me that was put under ground Carving into myself cause I cant speak out loud Skipping breakfast and dinner or stuffing our faces For some sense of control To hope it erases The feeling inside that all that you can be Is how flesh meat and bone Hangs off of your body When your own heart could stop From barely a flutter Flesh of the womb Laying wet in the gutter Taking what's ours They go on with their lives Resorted to tonics and herbs Backyards and midwives He said it's not that bad you ******* faker Beat in her face Just to text her phone later All my exes are crazy I just wanted to bang her Cut her down from the rafters when you know what hanged her It's funny it's sad at the end of the day We're in hell together Across hot coals we lay Dress your own wounds Don't bend over for them Instead let's Redacted Redacted Redacted

54

As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. From a Friend to you I have seen too many dear friends leave this world, too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. Whose business is it, if I choose to read, or play, on the computer, until 4 AM, or sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 &70s, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love, I will. I will walk the beach, in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves, with abandon, if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old. I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And, I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years, my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break, when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebodys beloved pet gets hit by a car? But, broken hearts are what give us strength, and understanding, and compassion. A heart never broken, is pristine, and sterile, and will never know the joy of being imperfect. I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I dont question myself anymore. Ive even earned the right to be wrong. So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it).

0

Dec 8, 2020

Dec 8, 2020 at 3:07 AM UTC

leo-janowick

As I’ve aged

As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. From a Friend to you I have seen too many dear friends leave this world, too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. Whose business is it, if I choose to read, or play, on the computer, until 4 AM, or sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 &70s, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love, I will. I will walk the beach, in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves, with abandon, if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old. I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And, I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years, my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break, when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebodys beloved pet gets hit by a car? But, broken hearts are what give us strength, and understanding, and compassion. A heart never broken, is pristine, and sterile, and will never know the joy of being imperfect. I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I dont question myself anymore. Ive even earned the right to be wrong. So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it).

11

hows your love life are you somebodys exwife do you lie fat and cry blame him and not try does the single life taste bad try another old picture want ad you say your fat but youre fixxing it but you still want a man that is bank and fit im a fat wallet dude sweet *** on to sit but ill pass on your jabba **** blubbery *** youve wrinkled your envelope really bad you still claim youre beautiful wow thats sad far from your sloth nest is where i will fly and grind my hips on some younger thin thigh see ive got an exwife and now i love life

0

Jun 4, 2016

Jun 4, 2016 at 9:00 AM UTC

chump

hippo crite

hows your love life are you somebodys exwife do you lie fat and cry blame him and not try does the single life taste bad try another old picture want ad you say your fat but youre fixxing it but you still want a man that is bank and fit im a fat wallet dude sweet *** on to sit but ill pass on your jabba **** blubbery *** youve wrinkled your envelope really bad you still claim youre beautiful wow thats sad far from your sloth nest is where i will fly and grind my hips on some younger thin thigh see ive got an exwife and now i love life

16

go for the chills my boy whatever the hell it takes - go for the full body chills, the ones that start in your **** trickle down the backs of your knees drift up into the top of your cabeza make ya think there's chakras and all that, kind of chills that make ya think somebodys standing behind ya in the best possible light, hand on your shoulder watching you make the right decision over and over and over again. go for those chills, my love. go for the risk. where's the risk? who's got the risk? gimme! gimme! pshh... selling risk up and down the stairs like foolhardy can-boys sell miller lite at the ball games that we coulda gone to, where i never woulda seen your picture. selling risk like it's real risk - saying, hey! hee.. haa.. lookee over here - we got risk for ya: start a family! aint nothing more risky than that! and then boom! your lying on your back, in bed with an accountant, and he's a'counting out your finances planning your pleasures down to the dime, [won't letcha buy that dress that slips right off. ya know, one with the black lace all over? never did a great job hiding nothing from me, ya little piece uh risky business, you]. *no, err, sorry then... can't afford that risk... not in the spreadsheet... can'tttttttttt compute .... err... no second opinions... err... find FAQ's for further information.* i got a wooden spoon, derr..... that's me ^^^. spot the difference. one makes ya smile, the other takes it away. one makes ya laugh, the other takes it away. one makes you come, the other takes it away. one gives you chills, the other takes 'em away. how's about we dine on perrier and Michelin stars, tonight? i promise i'll wear the napkin round my esophagus, but only if you reach 'cross the table and tie it tight around me. mmmn... tie it a bit too tight at first, then slip a finger in between. can you feel my pulse?

0

Jun 13, 2019

Jun 13, 2019 at 9:44 AM UTC

stephane-noir

shush now, the chills are coming...

go for the chills my boy whatever the hell it takes - go for the full body chills, the ones that start in your **** trickle down the backs of your knees drift up into the top of your cabeza make ya think there's chakras and all that, kind of chills that make ya think somebodys standing behind ya in the best possible light, hand on your shoulder watching you make the right decision over and over and over again. go for those chills, my love. go for the risk. where's the risk? who's got the risk? gimme! gimme! pshh... selling risk up and down the stairs like foolhardy can-boys sell miller lite at the ball games that we coulda gone to, where i never woulda seen your picture. selling risk like it's real risk - saying, hey! hee.. haa.. lookee over here - we got risk for ya: start a family! aint nothing more risky than that! and then boom! your lying on your back, in bed with an accountant, and he's a'counting out your finances planning your pleasures down to the dime, [won't letcha buy that dress that slips right off. ya know, one with the black lace all over? never did a great job hiding nothing from me, ya little piece uh risky business, you]. *no, err, sorry then... can't afford that risk... not in the spreadsheet... can'tttttttttt compute .... err... no second opinions... err... find FAQ's for further information.* i got a wooden spoon, derr..... that's me ^^^. spot the difference. one makes ya smile, the other takes it away. one makes ya laugh, the other takes it away. one makes you come, the other takes it away. one gives you chills, the other takes 'em away. how's about we dine on perrier and Michelin stars, tonight? i promise i'll wear the napkin round my esophagus, but only if you reach 'cross the table and tie it tight around me. mmmn... tie it a bit too tight at first, then slip a finger in between. can you feel my pulse?

58

I made preludes to understand loss. I broke the rules, I dont understand mathmatics, My friend a disabled tragedy, Convinced herself, The rules are mathmatic. I dont count on death the way a Funeral home director makes his car payment. Or howmany shards of glass are stuck in somebodys head. She had to know something physics The nite he died. It was a first hand demonstration. One of the those moments of inspiration. She celibrates with a drink every nite. Her walker makes sure you can walk straight. And the bartender made sure hes ontop of Every drink, like the lime in a plastic sword. The juice is arsenic. And she will slowly poison herself till she dies.

0

Oct 26, 2013

Oct 26, 2013 at 3:37 AM UTC

jack-dalton

I made preludes to understand math

I made preludes to understand loss. I broke the rules, I dont understand mathmatics, My friend a disabled tragedy, Convinced herself, The rules are mathmatic. I dont count on death the way a Funeral home director makes his car payment. Or howmany shards of glass are stuck in somebodys head. She had to know something physics The nite he died. It was a first hand demonstration. One of the those moments of inspiration. She celibrates with a drink every nite. Her walker makes sure you can walk straight. And the bartender made sure hes ontop of Every drink, like the lime in a plastic sword. The juice is arsenic. And she will slowly poison herself till she dies.

19

Freebie's are not Me, I'm a hardworking mujer. I take what I can Get, I give my heart from What I bet, I leave past behind And do forget, the crime's of other's Of fateful mess, but I do my best if Someone else don't like, it's OK I'm Fine, I'll be alright, because on when I Shine, I will pass the other's who do not My heart was broken long ago, now it's better I've grown some, I have lost a little, gained some. Tossed a light extra baggage to the side, sweet twenties, For some a year for parties, nightclubs and the fake life. Twenties for me is ballerina and me, my daughter, and I hope To be somebody's wife.

0

Sep 22, 2015

Sep 22, 2015 at 8:48 AM UTC

jessica-packer

Somebodys wife

Freebie's are not Me, I'm a hardworking mujer. I take what I can Get, I give my heart from What I bet, I leave past behind And do forget, the crime's of other's Of fateful mess, but I do my best if Someone else don't like, it's OK I'm Fine, I'll be alright, because on when I Shine, I will pass the other's who do not My heart was broken long ago, now it's better I've grown some, I have lost a little, gained some. Tossed a light extra baggage to the side, sweet twenties, For some a year for parties, nightclubs and the fake life. Twenties for me is ballerina and me, my daughter, and I hope To be somebody's wife.

16

Inevitable, You can’t just “let it” No one wants its, But we all get it Sure we pretend, We’re always “surprised”, But we know that no one gets out alive, Sooner or later, That bird comes tappin’ One crack in the glass, And it just “happens” The end at last, “Never more”, It will happen again, As its happened before Next to the window, My back to the door I tease that bird, Because I am bored Young and foolish, The sense I lack, Despite the crack, Tapping back! No worries, It's never broken before… “Gotta go...somebodys knocking at the door”. ©B L Costello 2018

0

Mar 25, 2018

Mar 25, 2018 at 7:59 PM UTC

bonita-costello

COME IN

Inevitable, You can’t just “let it” No one wants its, But we all get it Sure we pretend, We’re always “surprised”, But we know that no one gets out alive, Sooner or later, That bird comes tappin’ One crack in the glass, And it just “happens” The end at last, “Never more”, It will happen again, As its happened before Next to the window, My back to the door I tease that bird, Because I am bored Young and foolish, The sense I lack, Despite the crack, Tapping back! No worries, It's never broken before… “Gotta go...somebodys knocking at the door”. ©B L Costello 2018

27

this world has taught you to dream to live a different life never yours always somebodys don't you dare color outside the lines dont forget to look around ask if youre doing it right so you wake up on a daily in an unfamiliar body never yours always some body you travel through the bed sheets you find your dreams under the pillow so you leave them there just like momma taught you ''dreaming is not for the likes of us'' but what if- what if you leave your bed you carry your dreams your heart on your sleeves dare speak up even if your voice shakes dare break out of the cell you were born in what if- this is everything you've been waiting for? what if you open your eyes in the mirror and finally say welcome home? what if the thunder breaking your windows was for your own good at least now the sun can shine through what if this time, this life is everything you've ever lost returned back to you?

0

Feb 26, 2019

Feb 26, 2019 at 9:34 AM UTC

Inkspilled

we've lost our dreams

this world has taught you to dream to live a different life never yours always somebodys don't you dare color outside the lines dont forget to look around ask if youre doing it right so you wake up on a daily in an unfamiliar body never yours always some body you travel through the bed sheets you find your dreams under the pillow so you leave them there just like momma taught you ''dreaming is not for the likes of us'' but what if- what if you leave your bed you carry your dreams your heart on your sleeves dare speak up even if your voice shakes dare break out of the cell you were born in what if- this is everything you've been waiting for? what if you open your eyes in the mirror and finally say welcome home? what if the thunder breaking your windows was for your own good at least now the sun can shine through what if this time, this life is everything you've ever lost returned back to you?

33

What am I doing? It's after midnight and I'm up. I have school at 7:55 in the morning. I don't want to sleep. Nightmares. Plus, I keep waking up panicking that this couch is smooshing me. I'm drinking coffee, mixed with hot chocolate, but coffee still. I won't sleep. I'm so tired of life, but I won't sleep. I saw him today. His hair is growing out and he wore a baseball cap. He doesn't wear baseball caps. He used to have a golf cap that he wore when I first met him. I loved it. I think he's sleeping with his ex. Not that I care. **** I've ****** two people since we broke up. Okay, so maybe he broke up with me . Whatever. It was basically mutual. I don't think I love him. I don't understand this feeling. It's like I miss something. But I don't know what. Am I pretty? Because I wanna be pretty. And now I'm crying. Do you think I'll ever find somebody? I want to. Somebody who gets my crying and buys me coffee and tea and lets me make a mess in the kitchen and somebody who I can yell with and fight with and **** with. I'm not a good person. I know that. And maybe this ****** life of mine is karma for that. But I swear to god. I'm trying. I am. Will you love me? I miss love. Even when it got messy. I want to sleep with somebody. Feel something. I'm not nice. I can't have a nice guy. I'm sorry. I can't. I'm rough and I'm a ***** and when I make love it's passionate and fleeting and everything. Will you be there? I want to spend less time faking. I want to take midnight walks in the park and swing and go to the store and buy gelato. I want dates and kisses and doing that thing where you hold me and I rest on your hips with my legs around your waist. You don't have to like me a lot. I don't like me a lot. Just be there. I don't know who this is to. Maybe it's you. The one reading it. I do have a fantasy about meeting somebody through hellopoetry or tumblr or anything. You'll be reading my stuff, smoking a cigarette or eating or just sitting and you'll think "She's crazy." But you'll smile. Can that happen? Or is that just a sad girls fairy tale. I don't look like my picture anymore. I cut off all my hair. I'm not pretty. I'm not like the others. I'm me. And I"m different. I hate coffee, but I want to do slam poetry in a dark coffee shop and drink dark coffee. So, I'm teaching myself. It's late and I'm rambling and I don't have anyone to talk to. Sorry about that. One. Day. I'll find it. My *** of gold isn't money. It's you. I don't know if soul mates exists. Or somebodys. He was right. We think we know, but we don't. But even if you are just my somebody for a little while that's good. I just want to meet you. Be my best friend. Please. I'm so tired of being alone and pretending like it's all okay. I don't have to pretend on here. I don't have to pretend. I want to spend less time pretending. Help me.

0

Mar 5, 2014

Mar 5, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC

cassie-stoddard

I want to spend less time

What am I doing? It's after midnight and I'm up. I have school at 7:55 in the morning. I don't want to sleep. Nightmares. Plus, I keep waking up panicking that this couch is smooshing me. I'm drinking coffee, mixed with hot chocolate, but coffee still. I won't sleep. I'm so tired of life, but I won't sleep. I saw him today. His hair is growing out and he wore a baseball cap. He doesn't wear baseball caps. He used to have a golf cap that he wore when I first met him. I loved it. I think he's sleeping with his ex. Not that I care. **** I've ****** two people since we broke up. Okay, so maybe he broke up with me . Whatever. It was basically mutual. I don't think I love him. I don't understand this feeling. It's like I miss something. But I don't know what. Am I pretty? Because I wanna be pretty. And now I'm crying. Do you think I'll ever find somebody? I want to. Somebody who gets my crying and buys me coffee and tea and lets me make a mess in the kitchen and somebody who I can yell with and fight with and **** with. I'm not a good person. I know that. And maybe this ****** life of mine is karma for that. But I swear to god. I'm trying. I am. Will you love me? I miss love. Even when it got messy. I want to sleep with somebody. Feel something. I'm not nice. I can't have a nice guy. I'm sorry. I can't. I'm rough and I'm a ***** and when I make love it's passionate and fleeting and everything. Will you be there? I want to spend less time faking. I want to take midnight walks in the park and swing and go to the store and buy gelato. I want dates and kisses and doing that thing where you hold me and I rest on your hips with my legs around your waist. You don't have to like me a lot. I don't like me a lot. Just be there. I don't know who this is to. Maybe it's you. The one reading it. I do have a fantasy about meeting somebody through hellopoetry or tumblr or anything. You'll be reading my stuff, smoking a cigarette or eating or just sitting and you'll think "She's crazy." But you'll smile. Can that happen? Or is that just a sad girls fairy tale. I don't look like my picture anymore. I cut off all my hair. I'm not pretty. I'm not like the others. I'm me. And I"m different. I hate coffee, but I want to do slam poetry in a dark coffee shop and drink dark coffee. So, I'm teaching myself. It's late and I'm rambling and I don't have anyone to talk to. Sorry about that. One. Day. I'll find it. My *** of gold isn't money. It's you. I don't know if soul mates exists. Or somebodys. He was right. We think we know, but we don't. But even if you are just my somebody for a little while that's good. I just want to meet you. Be my best friend. Please. I'm so tired of being alone and pretending like it's all okay. I don't have to pretend on here. I don't have to pretend. I want to spend less time pretending. Help me.

1

Sometimes I feel like there's a deep hole inside of my heart, a void that at times seems to burn. Its funny to think about, but I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean. Waves of powerful emotion thrashing against a cold hearted wall, thats long forgotten how to feel at all. I have this dream of being happy, and whole. Not going to bed every night.. Waiting.. Wanting.. Wanting something that may not even be in the cards for me. I just wanna be seen. I just wanna be loved. I just wanna be somebodys somebody. I just want.. The real thing.. The kind of love that whispers softly to your soul and lights you up like the fourth of july. The kind of love that with just a kiss, time slows down and the world melts around you..like a flame to a candle. But its hopeless to dream... Sometimes I think, maybe I already had my chance at happiness.. Maybe I was supposed to feel the crash and burn of unrequited love. Maybe the firey second degree burns from that firey end was suposed to be my lessons learned.. I dont know... I know that I dont want to believe it. But maybe love just isnt meant to be... For me.

0

Oct 26, 2017

Oct 26, 2017 at 4:13 AM UTC

Behind_Hazel_Eyes

Heart.

Sometimes I feel like there's a deep hole inside of my heart, a void that at times seems to burn. Its funny to think about, but I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean. Waves of powerful emotion thrashing against a cold hearted wall, thats long forgotten how to feel at all. I have this dream of being happy, and whole. Not going to bed every night.. Waiting.. Wanting.. Wanting something that may not even be in the cards for me. I just wanna be seen. I just wanna be loved. I just wanna be somebodys somebody. I just want.. The real thing.. The kind of love that whispers softly to your soul and lights you up like the fourth of july. The kind of love that with just a kiss, time slows down and the world melts around you..like a flame to a candle. But its hopeless to dream... Sometimes I think, maybe I already had my chance at happiness.. Maybe I was supposed to feel the crash and burn of unrequited love. Maybe the firey second degree burns from that firey end was suposed to be my lessons learned.. I dont know... I know that I dont want to believe it. But maybe love just isnt meant to be... For me.

23

Once upon a time in a land not so far away, a bunch of yesterday's rebels tried to re live days gone by. Stomping and romping and doing it large, with arthritis pains rageing and eyesight in decline. But happy in memories and re living their youth, tommorow it's doubtful they will be able to move! But all was not old, all was not done. For a face at the bar kept watch over them. She wasn't a bouncer or doorstaff in a huff! Just somebodys daughter, who gave a toss. She watched over her dad to make sure he was good. As he forgot the pain of a marriage that broke. In a Harley top and a tartan skirt they oggled at her and her rainbow hair. Just a girl, eye candy to them. A memory of youth and a life misspent. Now that's the thing! We ain't all the same and one of them wanted to know her name. Wanted to know what was she doing there. And looked at her eyes and not at her chest. Laughter and jokes and hello this is dad, hell we even tried to find him a date! His friends said wow Mike who was that? Then stereotypical, Foxy you old dog! He said just someone I met, who shares a few friends and is here with her dad looking out for him. All the way home they poked fun at him judging by their standards and not his. So often in life we do nothing and time passes by. Try saying hello and break the ice. I won't deny she was pretty too view with a tattood thigh and bright beautiful eyes. A figure that wars have been fought over in vain... But to me, I just knew her as Jade x

0

Oct 23, 2017

Oct 23, 2017 at 6:47 PM UTC

MichealWolf

Once upon a ...

Once upon a time in a land not so far away, a bunch of yesterday's rebels tried to re live days gone by. Stomping and romping and doing it large, with arthritis pains rageing and eyesight in decline. But happy in memories and re living their youth, tommorow it's doubtful they will be able to move! But all was not old, all was not done. For a face at the bar kept watch over them. She wasn't a bouncer or doorstaff in a huff! Just somebodys daughter, who gave a toss. She watched over her dad to make sure he was good. As he forgot the pain of a marriage that broke. In a Harley top and a tartan skirt they oggled at her and her rainbow hair. Just a girl, eye candy to them. A memory of youth and a life misspent. Now that's the thing! We ain't all the same and one of them wanted to know her name. Wanted to know what was she doing there. And looked at her eyes and not at her chest. Laughter and jokes and hello this is dad, hell we even tried to find him a date! His friends said wow Mike who was that? Then stereotypical, Foxy you old dog! He said just someone I met, who shares a few friends and is here with her dad looking out for him. All the way home they poked fun at him judging by their standards and not his. So often in life we do nothing and time passes by. Try saying hello and break the ice. I won't deny she was pretty too view with a tattood thigh and bright beautiful eyes. A figure that wars have been fought over in vain... But to me, I just knew her as Jade x

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i remember a time, when i was young, about the age of twelve, i came to a realisation with myself. i was entering a stage of puberty then, trying to figure out what was happening to me, made things difficult you see, especially, when you have no one to talk to about these things, not even your family. what made me come to the realisation that i was ugly, was the emphasis of that word placed in my life, as i was growing up, by my mom and dad. it made me feel weak like a mouse, when they always reminded me of how i won't grow to be beautiful, or the star i someday wished to be. and so i faced reality, i allowed that word to sink deep inside of me, seeping into my heart, mind, it made my life a misery, i hated the reflection i saw on the mirror, because i couldn't stand the fear, the mirror inflicted on me. i grew up believing that i would never be pretty, or somebodys, somebody. until i met you, my friend, my brother, lover to the end. you gave me courage to believe in myself, that i was a beautiful creation of God, and that God placed me on earth for a purpose in life. through you and God i found a greater love like no other, and those words of pain no longer mattered to me anymore, God loves me just the way i am.

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Oct 8, 2014

Oct 8, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC

queen1e

Untitled

i remember a time, when i was young, about the age of twelve, i came to a realisation with myself. i was entering a stage of puberty then, trying to figure out what was happening to me, made things difficult you see, especially, when you have no one to talk to about these things, not even your family. what made me come to the realisation that i was ugly, was the emphasis of that word placed in my life, as i was growing up, by my mom and dad. it made me feel weak like a mouse, when they always reminded me of how i won't grow to be beautiful, or the star i someday wished to be. and so i faced reality, i allowed that word to sink deep inside of me, seeping into my heart, mind, it made my life a misery, i hated the reflection i saw on the mirror, because i couldn't stand the fear, the mirror inflicted on me. i grew up believing that i would never be pretty, or somebodys, somebody. until i met you, my friend, my brother, lover to the end. you gave me courage to believe in myself, that i was a beautiful creation of God, and that God placed me on earth for a purpose in life. through you and God i found a greater love like no other, and those words of pain no longer mattered to me anymore, God loves me just the way i am.

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