"tricked" poems
Sunday sermons are spilling on the inner city streets
through the green heaps and brown bags
through the downtown whisperers
and sage solitude souls
Army bands prepare for march
(their trench members filling packs with canister and cane)
the high command and tricked militia head pinned
quick on the look for splinter, lorry and skuttle
Traffic patterns change at the COP connect
camouflage bearers break formal stride
battle men slip between colorful floats
unsuspecting slumlords (vein pricked and weary)
grin in their second suite dying rooms
Twitching men and rubbernecks
sit discreetly on the corner wall
JJ and the chief revere a 21 gun salute
holy rollers raise cheer (in a moment of silence)
chess men hold steady
with ivory cues
Flames belt from the distant foundry
streets come alive with crackle and dust
members of the attic group glance down from their perch
an elderly man in a straight jacket (happy in the now)
sits solemnly with a cold reflective stare
It’s not far from the steely mud holes
from the flying fragments and sharp broken dreams
from the arsenal digs and madmen (who quietly turned the *****
the ivy trellis
and flowing white gown
are a nocturne fit
for this elevated rolling highland
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 8:33 PM UTC
I was a caterpillar ,
before I became a butterfly .
The pain I had to endure in order to transform into the beauty I am today .
This is my tale .
In the forest there was,
My cocoon wrapped in the finest silk,
With a power to live in a colorful world.
To dream and conquer goals.
A Vivacious soul spinning in the purest silk
Growing and maturing as I spun.
Wishing for freedom with my beautiful wings,
Counting the days to be free and soar
as a lively butterfly
until
You winded into my community
Lured my queen and her uneven monarch.
Tempted to sabotage my purity.
For that you,
Lured yourself into my vulernable cocoon
with that trust,
you decided to disrupt my process.
How can one man ruin my nesting site?
And I had faith in you ,
to be a figure
I never had.
I wanted.
My heart ached for it.
I needed it.
To be loved .
To be nurtured.
To never be like those stray dogs
looking for a home.
This was the moment .
Where....
Innocence stripped, heart captured.
My Freedom gone.
You were naive to comprehend
On what you were doing...
You would stab my cocoon
with your sickening poison .
Over and over you stabbed .
Ruptured the veins of my innocence .
To break my finest silk .
Purity banished.
Stabbing your poison was
Making my cocoon
useless ,
worthless ,
unwanted,
colorless,
I tried to run and I tried to scream
but I was devoured by this poison
It was the love I deserve.
Couldn't escape , numb to the pain
For every poison injected, I began to
Question God?
Where was he ?
when I shed out a tear of help.
Where was he?
when my cocoon was destroyed.
Was I loved God?
when I muffled help in your name.
I hated myself ,
I stay in my cocoon
afraid to see my future.
I wasn't going to be a beautiful butterfly
Battered Butterfly
My life seemed to be colorless
No one wants a battered butterfly
My life....
It seemed it had ended
when poison sunk onto my helpless body .
No one wants a battered butterfly
Imprisoned to these chains.
Being poisoned every night by different
Predators.
Oh God....
Those predators ...
Battered lifeless little butterfly
Was I ever loved in my nesting site?
But then again nobody loves a battered butterfly
How can I reach to heaven when
I was worthless.
Believed I was a vile *****
Tricked into a poison of hell.
Battered Ugly Butterfly
***** Little butterfly*.
There was no light in tunnel
There was no holes in my silk
To escape this poisonous nest.
Why?
Because I believe nobody wants save a battered butterfly
How can the man I trusted ruined me.
I thought you could be the one to complete my lovely monarch .
To complete the missing piece.
But you continued to misuse me.
To haunt me.
To barricade my heart
To own my soul
But one thing I can truly say
You never once won over me.
You never imprinted my change.
I endured your pain
That was a sign of God
To show me what strength I am capable of.
That was the light that I found,
You had no control to inflict pain anymore.
Because I became impervious to your pain.
I am a beautiful butterfly
reigning over my monarch
with no thought of you.
That is my freedom
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
i've tricked them once again
i made them believe that everything was fine.
******* I'm good,
even after all this time.
i'm too good at lying to myself,
I'm too good at pushing away the pain.
and even tricking myself
into believing I'm okay.
you're telling me to breathe
but my throat keeps closing.
you tell me to sleep,
but every night is darkness without dreams.
how am i supposed to write,
without spilling blood on the page.
but this is my job now,
and i need a decent grade.
like forcing a bird to sing for food,
you're wringing me out.
my mind dripping to the floor,
i can't create beautiful things anymore.
i'm writing everything over again.
repeating
repeating
repeating myself.
what do you want me to say?
that everything will be okay?
you want me to make my own light,
give myself a nicholas sparks ending.
because now I'm exposed,
I'm standing in front of you all.
and you can practically see the blood
dripping down my wrists.
with the world standing behind me,
its hard to keep my focus.
"make it pretty" she says,
"don't let them see you're already dead."
i can't turn tears to holy water,
or my own blood into wine.
i can't create beauty,
staring Darkness in the eyes.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 12:50 AM UTC
[tongue taking taken prayer]
*come worship in my temple.
your tongue gowned by silence,
thy teasing vibrations disperse my slack,
exchanging it for a rigidity that is even softer, looser,
an improvement possibility impossibly incomprehensible
the noises of freedom from anonymity is thy silenced tongue
unleashed, teasing, speaking tongues unrelenting and unremitting, tongues unforgotten for they never were
learned, and incapable of being self-taught
my pleasure sprouts mushrooms in thy loamy foam,
thy rainfall nourishment, seed plant growing life morning borne,
thy tricked up sonnets played within my hearts harp,
tunes never known but coming from the land of plenty,
my new promised land
teach me where the apostrophe goes, the comma and
why the question mark is curved and dotted like my body,
why we need punctuation to separate the first from the next
trees weep as if every dry rain petal is instantly imbibed,
wanting more for my swollen by thy ministrations,
I cry out
my ice storm, my thunder, embalm me within the
electric spreading in my veins shocking steady constant
thy name thy name I beg to give thee a name
to understand what has befallen me*
you can call me by my favorite of
all my seventy two,^
your first baby squeals and
even now in human manufactured agreed upon symbols
(words),
every utterance a prayer heard and answered
my name is a heated and unbroken
hallelujah,
I am thy god, and you, darling you,
my beloved
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 2:58 PM UTC
They asked me
''How did you get over him?''
''How did you get over him so quickly?"
I smiled and I laughed
A crazy laugh
I cried and I laughed
A silent cry
A crazy laugh
I told them
"I tricked my heart into believing that I didn't need him."
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 3:27 PM UTC
To realize, your malice intent,
and power hungry destruction of my
most hidden and vulnerable *****
I am relieved to be free of your
vindictive and spiteful soul;
everything about you is abrasive,
brooding and angry, vicious and ugly
That person, so gentle and endearing
is lost, I am not so sure he even exists,
just one of your many disorderly personas
And to think of my pain,
self-mutilating thoughts and attempts
to make sense of the shock
trying to free myself from your lock of
enamoring lies. I could feel the
end when we had just sprouted,
battling my intuition with a fawn dawn heart-
with you, I finally felt full after some empty time.
But upon reflection of your undeniable misogyny,
I thank you! I could not be more thankful for you exiting my life,
the confirmation of this delusion we called love,
I am so thankful I was tricked, you see,
without honesty, I could only give you so much, and
only that much, is what you could take away from me-
Leaving behind such vitality and adventurous expression,
Charm, wits and sentiment for living
the performer in me you never could accept,
Merely shaking the strength only a woman could have.
You could never break me, although you tried-
and in that I find pity, that you feel so small
You seek power in destroying a lover
like breaking a heart is a triumph,
You are no huntsman and I am not your doe
I refuse to be your object for show
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 12:55 AM UTC
To ill is scourge hazard of modern man;
The way of life which tricked you leaves you weak.
Before it pounced, prevent you must! You can,
Your visions blur, your limbs cut, your times bleak.
Avoid refined sweetness pure, you should know,
The more you love to eat the more you crave;
Your sweet tongue urged pleasures deals a cruel blow,
The more you indulge, closer be your grave.
This sickness gradual erosion of health,
Like shrinking pools merciless sun would drain.
A diabetic's woe: no amount of wealth,
Could stop the vines that binds and break the chain.
Without remedy and won't heal for good,
So sweat, please monitor intake of food.
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 7:07 PM UTC
we've been poisoned
with hopes and dreams
of "true love"
its hysterical
how naïve we are
we fell so hard
put ourselves on the line
for a poorly constructed ideology
you idiot
darling i'm such an idiot
to think there was good
in this world
to think there was a chance
that selfless love existed
ah, what a fool
to think marriage
was anything more
than a social norm
a convenience
that relationships
were actually based on anything
more than a false sense of
comfort and security
highschool kids
throwing away their future
bunch of immature children
tricked into thinking
that someone could make them whole
*"let's get married"
"let's run away"
"we're in loooove"*
we've poisoned our youth
love should be the last thing
on their mind
women giving up their dreams
men giving up their lives
for W H A T
the idea that
someone could keep them
from drowning
darling
oh darling
i wish that were true
but
w a k e u p
no one can save you
love is cursed.
we are cursed.
love,
in its own essence
does not exist
and i was such a fool
**such a ****** fool**
to think it lasts
i guess it just made me feel relaxed
to think that there was one part of my life
that could be just for me
i thought love was my escape
i'm holding up the world
i thought it would give me a break
rest my head
HAH
hysterical
i swear to God i'm in fits of laughter
believe in love?
ask the kid of messy divorce
ask the single mom with no idea where her baby daddy went
ask the girl with a broken heart
ask the boy who gives his all, in return for none
love
is
just
another
word
for
loss.
sorry to burst your bubble
but
your idea of "love"
doesn't exist
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 1:28 PM UTC
I walk inside, and you turn to gimme a look,
Look who's talkin', homie, why YOU with your holy book?
I walk with pride, with dignity, I feel like I deserve it,
You think I'm full with violence, but where's that in my worship?
Jesus brought the bible, Moses brought the Torah, and Muhammad brought the Qur'an,
All those came from Allah.
I know one day you'll realize, the truth was in the Qur'an,
But by then... It'll be too late,
Imagine what you'll have to face,
Your punishment, in the grave,
That even the, snakes will hate,
But then they gotta tell you, you really deserve it,
And you still say, that I'm talking B.S,
You make me shut up, just because of what I say,
But who'll go with you, in your grave,
You won't be able to blame your mistakes on those who just faked,
Did I not tell you, you were getting tricked?
Your ribcage will tighten,
All the people 'ready left,
Why would they care, of the punishment you gotta face?
This is just an intro,
My friend: listen to what I gotta say,
Hell will come into view,
Screamin'; You wouldn't have deserved this,
All you had to do was just worship,
All you had to do, was show Allah he deserves it,
All the love and respect, you just had to show it,
Not believe those who said, religion don't deserve it,
You said you're not an Atheist, or an Agnostic,
You said you're not a Christian, why didn't you become a Muslim?
All the things I told you, were for this day to come,
I wanted to make you, somehow convert to Islam.
Tell me: Do you crave that punishment?
Then why the hell you ain't gon' listen?
All I want is best for you, you just gotta pay attention,
You call for me, I can't do one thin',
You ain't callin' him, who gave you everythin',
Homie, this ain't a fantasy,
You can't go back in time,
You can't fix all those things,
You just said you had no time,
To worship him who created you,
But when I say this to you, you think that I'm insane,
Pray for your next life, not your worldly fame,
They came with the message, but you never accept it, you said you don't need it,
But now you'd say you believed it,
All you had to do was just worship, but now you don't deserve it,
Don't tell me I never told you: Just become a Muslim,
All those years I tried, told you, you really deserve it,
Now you're shredding tears only full of blood,,
Told you they ain't Islam, they were just F'N up,
Told you I was peace, now what you gon' do,
I always only wished, for what was best for you,
Violence is not Islam,
Terrorists are not Muslims,
All they wanna do, is use up all their bullets,
Keep calm, 'cause I'm a Muslim, not a terrorist,
Hurry up, it ain't too late, look into Islam,
'Cause I know, you don't deserve ir,
You're so lucky, you have the truth in front of you,
You just outta accept it.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
I wish she didn't worry bout her look,
wish she didn't worry bout the way her hips shook.
Wish she didn't worry about her make up,
wish she didn't worry about getting all faked up.
Nails, Lips, Eyes,
I think the natural is fine.
But media corrupts what it wanna see,
cause we don't see what we wanna see.
Hair, Ears, Cloths,
all done for reasons I don't know,
jeweled out for reasons I don't know.
Going through pains I don't know.
I thought natural beauty is all that count,
I never understood why you'd get tricked out for self if it count.
Cause then I'm still told their is something wrong.
Why can't you just be with you and get along.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
I thought I was cured.
I thought that life might be like Super Mario, you were the villain that shrunk me and all I had to do was find a super mushroom to make me big again.
But life is never like a video game.
My super mushroom tricked me, it only worked for so long.
Now everything triggers your memory and I feel so small.
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
I'm six years old. I'm six years old and my favourite colour is green because it's the colour of my eyes and I think my eyes are the prettiest things I have ever seen.
I'm eight years old. I'm eight years old and I had a nightmare so bad I felt like my eyes were deceiving me. My favourite colour is now the same pale blue as my Mum's floral bedsheets because they make me feel safe.
I'm ten years old now. I'm ten years old and I'm a big girl because I'm allowed to walk to school with my friend instead of my Mum. We walk past fields of buttercups and other pretty flowers but my new favourite colour is the peach of the rose in my front garden.
I'm twelve years old. I'm twelve years old and I can't stand the colour green anymore because the meaner people in my school decided my self worth was less important than their jokes. I don't have a favourite colour anymore, but if you ask I'll say it's purple.
I'm fourteen years old. I'm fourteen which means I've been a teenager for a year and I still can't stand the colour green. My Mum let me dye my hair for the first time and now it is red and red is my favourite colour, but if you asked I would still tell you it's purple.
I'm sixteen now. I'm sixteen and I think I know everything, I met a boy that I like for the first time, my Mum doesn't know, but I think he makes the colour green a bit easier to look at because he told me he loves my eyes and that they are the most beautiful things he has ever seen. He gave me a pair of rose tinted glasses and I'm not quite sure why, but for now my favourite colour is the deep brown of his eyes but if anyone asks, my favourite colour is still purple.
I'm eighteen now. I'm eighteen and I can finally drink without it being illegal, and I have started drinking to forget everything except the colour of my Mum's pale blue floral bedsheets, the peach of the rose in my front garden, the bright red of my hair and the green of my eyes but most of all I'm drinking to forget the purple of the bruises that litter my skin, the purple that I always insisted was my favourite colour for reasons unknown to me.
I should be twenty years old now, and my favourite colour should be the orange of the sunset, the pink of the sunrise or maybe even the yellow of the buttercups in the fields I used to walk past on my way to school, but I did not make it to twenty years old. My favourite colour was never purple and I never asked for my skin to be constantly tainted that way, but you made sure I never healed and now my Mum is laying purple flowers on my grave and she's wishing she fought more to get my favourite colour to be green again like when I was six years old and in love with myself and the world around me, because if I still loved the innocent green then maybe I wouldn't be suffering my greatest nightmare as a child with the only comfort being tucked up in the seemingly endless sea of brown. I always tricked myself and everyone else into thinking things were perfect with rose tinted glasses but the lenses shattered and the last flower you laid on my grave was the peach coloured rose from my front garden, and now the petals have wilted and all of the colour has been drained from me but this new world has more hues than I could have ever dreamed of.
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 9:06 PM UTC
tattooed across my hand
it's a reminder.
now you're probably thinking,
"a reminder to what?"
you probably think it's something common like,
"INSANITY to remind you to be insane."
or
the profound few might think,
"INSANITY as a reminder that everyone else is insane."
but, darling,
really INSANITY's a reminder of the fact that
everyone else might be crazy,
and that's even worse.
everyone else might be insane.
you'll never really know.
but the insane ones are the ones
that can trick you,
and damage you,
and break you,
but you never notice until
it's too late.
You see, darling,
I've been tricked,
and broken,
and so unbelievably, damaged.
That I need the reminder,
INSANITY,
tattooed across my hand,
to remind me
that everyone
might be
crazy,
and I have good reasons
to be paranoid.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC
Apple floating in the leaves,
Apple shining bright,
Apple ready to be picked
(and lusted with)
Winking in the dusk,
Ready for a fight,
Get ready to be
Tricked
Whispers in your ear in the golden glow-
Uncover those instincts that just don’t show-
One little bite,
They’ll never know,
Reaching for that sin so time does slow
Just don’t think about it
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
In times of crisis or trouble
I’m the one that keeps it together
When the world's crashing around me
I remain everybody’s tether
“Hey are you alright?”
I offer words of comfort
I tell them: ‘all will be okay’
No matter what the problem is
I have something positive to say
“You know…. its okay to be upset”
‘I’m fine’, I tell them all
When things happen in my life
Everyone around me is impressed
That I’ve overcome another strife
“Just keep hanging in there”
The truth is no one knows
That this is how I cope
I hide behind the happy mask
So I can give others hope
“You’re taking this…really well”
But somewhere along the way
I lost track of how I feel
I even tricked myself into thinking
That my happiness was real
“Are….are you sure you’re okay?”
But I can feel my façade cracking
Emotions are breaking through
I don’t have any distractions
And I don’t know what to do
“But..if you’re really okay…”
I force my smile even bigger
And laugh without knowing why
I’ll do whatever I have to do
To maintain this beautiful lie
“…then why are you crying?”
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 3:26 AM UTC
Now I reached the lands again,
Still dazzled and confused I was,
From the encounter with an Angel,
Oh how she had filled my twilight,
Unable to forget her divinely touch.
Magical touch had enchanted me,
Able to recall it from the voyage,
I stumbled when disembarking,
Oh it was the first time for me,
My thoughts would last along.
After so many days at the sea,
I planned of bathing properly,
Her illusion tricked me thereto,
Oh how her traces remained on,
Facing mirror, I stood perplexed.
Still unable to accept the reality,
I longed for that night to repeat,
Heart beats Angel in each beat,
Life staged a drama too crazy,
Unwilling to take the reality.
My body carries the vestiges,
I turn crazier with each bath,
Her lips' traces keep appearing,
Driving me mad is her memory,
God! Bring her to life once more.
I had my powers as a commodore,
I sent for the captain of my ship,
"What bothers you, commodore,"
And so he asked of me kindly,
Then I told him of her traces.
Smiling he told me yet again,
"I had told you to get married,"
I agreed this time and nodded,
"Alright, search for me a bride,"
Going outside, he smiled plainly.
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 2:27 AM UTC
Today's world is not as it seems,
Cancer now comes in packs of twenty
And our idea of food is a burger with twenty-percent meat,
And NO-ONE cares or thinks for themself
Ones worth is measured only in wealth
The children are hungry,
Our veterans ignored
Hunger for money and lust for oil brought us war,
Ukraine in "crisis" and MH370 missing,
The C.I.A. funded Isis we just won't believe it,
So put down the phone and open your eyes,
Realize
Real Eyes
Real Lies
It shouldn't take a genius to see this
So I will not forgive,
I'll NEVER forget,
about 9/11 or Israel's daily blank check
Because we fund their wars with Gaza and more
We bomb the Mosques,hospitals and more
We've been deceived,shammed,tricked and lied to,
So ask yourself,who am I?
Who are you?
We're the awoken ones with SO much left to do
Open your eyes and simply wake
Wake the **** up for our children's sake
Sometimes I just think about things,
What will our children's future bring?
Will there be one at all or won't it exist?
Open your eyes
Realize
And think about it
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
Rusty dusty pick up trucks
Old Fords and busted Chevys
Trucks that tear the road apart
And some stuck down the levy
Showing off at the truck show
All polished up and nice
When an old man in a beat up Ford
Looked us over once or twice
It don't matter how the cover looks
It's what's beneath the hood
You may look awful pretty
But, with no power...it's no good
You wanna get the ladies
Remember, it's what's beneath the hood
Although they like a real good ride
There ain't no ride, if there's no wood
I smiled and I watched the gent
Walk and laugh and smile some
He'd mumble something to the girls
And they'd follow to where he'd come
His truck, was old and battered
Wasn't tricked out like the rest
But, when it came to having girls around
This old man was the best
It don't matter how the cover looks
It's what's beneath the hood
You may look awful pretty
But, with no power...it's no good
You wanna get the ladies
Remember, it's what's beneath the hood
Although they like a real good ride
There ain't no ride, if there's no wood
A truck may last a long long time
But you've got to use it right
You've got to check the engine
And try to run it every night
I remember what the old man said
It's about what's there beneath the hood
The girls don't want it pretty
The girls, they want it good.....
It don't matter how the cover looks
It's what's beneath the hood
You may look awful pretty
But, with no power...it's no good
You wanna get the ladies
Remember, it's what's beneath the hood
Although they like a real good ride
There ain't no ride, if there's no wood
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
A Silence stirs within the people,
As the King anoints his knight.
The man of righteous renewal,
From the very start.
So it began,
His journey across Tamriel.
Searching for a way,
To save his people.
Armor of White,
Spear of the dragon.
He comes to fight,
Those who oppose him.
His only distraction,
A fair maiden.
With lips of ruby,
Hips of curve.
She can ****** anyone,
Then rob their home.
She sneaks within the night.
Only to serve.
Nocturnal the Daedric Goddess of the Dark World.
Evergloom shail it be.
When they cross paths.
Each night they meet...
So goes the Son of Skyrim,
Being tricked.
By the anointing Imperial.
Mother of the Pack.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC
A million bitten off breaths
Hang quietly.
I’m close enough to hear
her thudding -
A jarring noise that parts
a cloud of frothy swans.
We’ve all seen photographs
in Wildlife Books –
I’m sure you can conjure up
the moment a water bird
lances a sunlit river
with the very tip of its beak
to gobble a fish.
It’s a difficult photo to take,
It’s all over so quickly -
The fish caught,
The river moving, moving,
Still.
But here she is in front of me,
That bird,
Suspended with one
Foot in this world,
And the other
In another.
Her toes grind up the
Spotlight,
Trampling into
the moon and balancing there,
(I'm surprised the stage
is not full of chalk.)
It's not beautiful,
Not ghostly,
But all visceral meat glistening,
Fitness, strength, survival,
Like nature…
No need to take a photo,
She is a picture that my mind has
Tricked me into taking.
So perhaps that’s talent, darling..?
Or
Perhaps it’s something else, with a name I never knew.
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC
Freedom, sweet freedom,
I wish for thy.
My masters are cruel and mean and sly.
Freedom, sweet freedom,
Oh how I wish to be my own “man”.
I wish for wages and clothes, instead of doing my master’s evil plan.
Freedom, sweet freedom,
I can almost taste it when I am with him.
Not suppose to help him, I am not, but if I don’t his future is grim.
Freedom, sweet freedom,
I found in a form of a sock.
Master was tricked, it was quite a shock.
Freedom, sweet freedom,
though life is great now, it still is not fine.
No one wants a house elf that has demands like mine.
Freedom, sweet freedom,
An old man was so kind.
He gave me a job and pay and time off to unwind.
Freedom, sweet freedom,
the dark lord is back.
I will do all I can to help my young wizard friends counterattack.
Freedom, sweet freedom,
I think my time here has to come to an end.
Glad I am to leave in the arms of my friend.
(Rest in Peace Dobby)
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
I’ve got a small house made of cobblestone,
and I have a mountain made of chairs.
I’m safely inside; withering to the bone,
and hanging onto my last remaining hairs.
I know what awaits outside my window
and I won’t open the door for anyone.
It’s not like I have any special place to go,
and I don’t care much for the beating sun.
The lights are all off, but I risk a candle
in truth it’s as much light as I can handle.
It’s solely so that I prepare for the battle
against the first foe; the lurking shadow
we all know.
But when a voice rings out
begging and pleading for my help,
asking me to simply let them inside.
I’m more worried about myself,
and preserving what’s left of my health.
I can’t prevent it, I run and hide,
I refuse to go outside.
Savor what’s left of my last breath,
today I won’t be tricked by death.
I let the stranger into my abode anyway
I guess I let my compassion get the best of me.
Emphasizing he had only minimal time to stay
he reassured he wasn’t tricking or testing me.
“Don’t you miss the trees and sun in a park,
why do you live like this way?” is what he said,
I replied “I’d rather be nothing in the dark,
instead of being dead.”
I won’t fade into my made bed.
But he’s the one that is bleeding,
medical attention he’s needing.
But I won’t let anyone into my fortresss of solitude.
Tells me he’s not trying to scare me
but letting him in was already daring,
I just can’t stand to be so cruel, uncaring or rude.
I refuse to be subdued.
He may not make it out alive
but maybe neither will I.
He shows his true colors and they thrive
as he shows me how to die.
The hand knocked and made it’s mark
but it wasn’t a delusion in my head.
While I’d rather be nothing in the dark
instead of being dead.
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 1:00 PM UTC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
that which used to take ten minutes
now takes an hour or
two
something's that used to take an hour or
two,
now take ten minutes, give or
take,
(mostly I do the taking)
(or as the little voice whispers, the mostly
faking)
betcha you'd like to which is what
and what is which being bewitched,
I ain't spilling no beans
cause I value my insanity's privacy,
and I don't got to give that up just yet
but if you want the worst of what little I got left,
unhappily I will approach the old muse
begging me giving me something to use,
bad she turns away bad she say
*"You all tricked out,
you wares worn,
ye old styles from yester last month
you been styled by
H&M;
30 days max,
then
ring in the new, and if all sold,
or none-at-all,
too bad for you*
then you gotta decide:
wear a watch
or watch the wearing
with small
pleasures sighed,
confirming, night-moves,
gonna
Keep On Keeping On
Living
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 2:31 AM UTC