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"trolled" poems
Orcas in Puget Sound Along the road, abandoned wild apple trees bend with their heavy loads, dusty skirts of blackberry bushes purpling fingers, piercing flesh mouths ringed with berry juice, vampires all. Along San Juan Island salmon leap clear out of the briny water, just yards ahead of their predators, Orcas, dorsal fins curving shiny black, sluicing and slicing the surface like sharpened knives They have bred with one another for 10,000 years trolled these waters through famine, earthquakes, world wars through shifting continents, glacial avalanches, through the extinction of whole civilizations. Standing on a cliff, my daughter and I watch the Orcas churning the water - studies in grace the largest gem on the necklace of a great food chain and when we sleep we too chase the great King Salmon of our deepest dreams, the fathers we lost, the currents that bear along children Translucent jellyfish, palm sized, breath below sideways exhale, convulsive inhale umbrellas opening and closing a thousand years or more sliding through forests of brown kelp where mollusks cling We have clung like this to one another, with my body thrown over hers for protection and her exhaling away from me If Mama Orca keeps her young close, so will I If there are salmon to chase and harbor seals to command, so we will Arcing in the late August sky slapping and parting the surface, over and over the whales, lords of the Sound, swim in our brains as we sleep sparkle against blackening waters You are of my body from my body cleaving there for 10,000 years Whatever quarrels there are on land vaporize In the presence of these creatures, arcing against all that is temporal, vicious, small, studies in power and grace The tide pulls out, skimming across rocks and oysters in their muddy beds But this need to care for you remains as big as an Orca your appetite for adventure as voracious and I watch you, my child, disappearing with summer into high school, into womanhood, into the salty, light-dappled ocean
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Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 4:15 PM UTC
Orcas in Puget Sound
Orcas in Puget Sound Along the road, abandoned wild apple trees bend with their heavy loads, dusty skirts of blackberry bushes purpling fingers, piercing flesh mouths ringed with berry juice, vampires all. Along San Juan Island salmon leap clear out of the briny water, just yards ahead of their predators, Orcas, dorsal fins curving shiny black, sluicing and slicing the surface like sharpened knives They have bred with one another for 10,000 years trolled these waters through famine, earthquakes, world wars through shifting continents, glacial avalanches, through the extinction of whole civilizations. Standing on a cliff, my daughter and I watch the Orcas churning the water - studies in grace the largest gem on the necklace of a great food chain and when we sleep we too chase the great King Salmon of our deepest dreams, the fathers we lost, the currents that bear along children Translucent jellyfish, palm sized, breath below sideways exhale, convulsive inhale umbrellas opening and closing a thousand years or more sliding through forests of brown kelp where mollusks cling We have clung like this to one another, with my body thrown over hers for protection and her exhaling away from me If Mama Orca keeps her young close, so will I If there are salmon to chase and harbor seals to command, so we will Arcing in the late August sky slapping and parting the surface, over and over the whales, lords of the Sound, swim in our brains as we sleep sparkle against blackening waters You are of my body from my body cleaving there for 10,000 years Whatever quarrels there are on land vaporize In the presence of these creatures, arcing against all that is temporal, vicious, small, studies in power and grace The tide pulls out, skimming across rocks and oysters in their muddy beds But this need to care for you remains as big as an Orca your appetite for adventure as voracious and I watch you, my child, disappearing with summer into high school, into womanhood, into the salty, light-dappled ocean
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42
Contemptuous of his home beyond The village and the village pond, A large-souled Frog who spurned each byeway, Hopped along the imperial highway. Nor grunting pig nor barking dog Could disconcert so great a frog. The morning dew was lingering yet His sides to cool, his tongue to wet; The night dew when the night should come A travelled frog would send him home. Not so, alas! the wayside grass Sees him no more:--not so, alas! A broadwheeled waggon unawares Ran him down, his joys, his cares. From dying choke one feeble croak The Frog's perpetual silence broke: "Ye buoyant Frogs, ye great and small, Even I am mortal after all. My road to Fame turns out a wry way: I perish on this hideous highway,- Oh for my old familiar byeway!" The choking Frog sobbed and was gone: The waggoner strode whistling on. Unconscious of the carnage done, Whistling that waggoner strode on, Whistling (it may have happened so) "A Froggy would a-wooing go:" A hypothetic frog trolled he Obtuse to a reality. O rich and poor, O great and small, Such oversights beset us all: The mangled frog abides incog, The uninteresting actual frog; The hypothetic frog alone Is the one frog we dwell upon.
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3.7k
The Frog
Dark Shadows Lurked Her Flesh, On A Night Of Cloudless Fog! Cricket Noises Trailed Their Den, The Falling Leafs, On Wind They Trolled! On A Dreaded Night, The Clouds Rode, Far Flying Crows ,Weightless They Plagued The Sky; Humming Sweet Sonorous Chimes!
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC
THE CROW
I'm not taking a side I think you're all daft With words that deride Afore and aft It doesn't have to be snide Trolling can be quite a laugh But it lacks imagination And creates an irritation When you're ******* at it and use it as an excuse to just be nasty to each other and then you don't step away, and just keep arguing and arguing and arguing like you're in nursery, and nobody gets a solution because the whole thing is pointless and irrelevant and based on opinions that don't matter of people you will probably never meet and it's just so ridiculous I can't even end this sentence because of how ridiculous it all is and its made me forget about punctuation and sentence structure and everything because I'm annoyed at having to read such pointless ******* and I'm tired because here in England it's after midnight and I'm laid here reading ******* rather than sleeping when I just want to read some poetry aaaaaarrrrrgggghhhh and all I know is to make this line rhyme I need to end it in ation!!! A rhyme about other trolls Troll troll You've got a big head And you're made of stone And you aren't red Troll troll You're in a film called the hobbit And you're made of stone And you're not a rabbit Troll troll You could be a rabbit One made of stone You could be red Made of red stone But you lack imagination Like an Internet troll Because you're head is made of rocks And you were made by some sort of evil wizard or something So at least you've got an excuse Unlike people Who lack imagination when trying to be a troll Because they lack even the imagination of a troll Who is actually a troll But came in 6 movies rather than sitting behind a computer screen blaming other people for their loneliness I'm off to fester in my own self pity, silently waiting to have my troll poem trolled by trolls who aren't really trolls. I'll be back tomorrow for more fun and games. That's all folks!!
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Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 7:46 PM UTC
A poem about trolls
I'm not taking a side I think you're all daft With words that deride Afore and aft It doesn't have to be snide Trolling can be quite a laugh But it lacks imagination And creates an irritation When you're ******* at it and use it as an excuse to just be nasty to each other and then you don't step away, and just keep arguing and arguing and arguing like you're in nursery, and nobody gets a solution because the whole thing is pointless and irrelevant and based on opinions that don't matter of people you will probably never meet and it's just so ridiculous I can't even end this sentence because of how ridiculous it all is and its made me forget about punctuation and sentence structure and everything because I'm annoyed at having to read such pointless ******* and I'm tired because here in England it's after midnight and I'm laid here reading ******* rather than sleeping when I just want to read some poetry aaaaaarrrrrgggghhhh and all I know is to make this line rhyme I need to end it in ation!!! A rhyme about other trolls Troll troll You've got a big head And you're made of stone And you aren't red Troll troll You're in a film called the hobbit And you're made of stone And you're not a rabbit Troll troll You could be a rabbit One made of stone You could be red Made of red stone But you lack imagination Like an Internet troll Because you're head is made of rocks And you were made by some sort of evil wizard or something So at least you've got an excuse Unlike people Who lack imagination when trying to be a troll Because they lack even the imagination of a troll Who is actually a troll But came in 6 movies rather than sitting behind a computer screen blaming other people for their loneliness I'm off to fester in my own self pity, silently waiting to have my troll poem trolled by trolls who aren't really trolls. I'll be back tomorrow for more fun and games. That's all folks!!
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35
The bullet was made by an expert discovered when removed. At the autopsy of a young guy one of several just arrived. Not a gang war it was known but a ****** working alone. The public scared out of their wits the police under pressure. Three dead this boy the latest victim attacks in varied locations. Was it by somebody from the military an expert with a unique ability. No clues was not good to hear the public afraid to be here. Tall buildings made them easy targets when would the next strike be. Though summer the temperature cold through information they trolled. As another victim was gunned down more evidence was found. Two teenagers saw a man with a case get into a city works van. Contacting with what they had seen a new image came on the screen! Every law officer was instantly alerted a face found to fit description. An ex soldier with traumatic stress caution the critical word. Quickly a sighting was received the entire force relieved. A gun battle ensued policemen hurt not killed in the line of duty. A swat team eventually shot him dead in a disused ammunition factory. News soon spread of the snipers demise the gloom factor began to rise. You can never argue with a bullet! The Foureyed Poet.
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Jun 15, 2011
Jun 15, 2011 at 1:20 PM UTC
******
Got fired but looked as if he bluntly had resigned, Got penalized for improving every product's design. And yet created another one, cuz as hell was creative his mind, "Stay hungry, Stay foolish", was his ultimate key-line. Not a coder, not an engineer, no technical precision, No determined profession, except for a couple of visions. Loved his work and worshipped his love, Stood apart form the crowd to put himself above. Eliminating the unnecessary was the magic of his sight, What phone would you be using, if on his was a copyright? His fame is the consequence of what he always used to say, Conventional is always preferred, can you think it in a different way? Got trolled as the company's name was based on the name of a fruit, However it has been for many decades, digital technology's roots. He taught us how to follow one's dreams without always being afraid, Because thousands of supporters stand behind some handful filled with hate. He taught me to grab the golden opportunity and not regret on the one that drops, As like him one day, I will be able to say, "Ladies and gentlemen, My name is Steve Jobs!"
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Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
Think different....
The trolls are funny and have secrets untold The blood elves well they just get trolled The taurens are peaceful and kind The goblins are quite hard to find The orcs have a mighty roar The undeads of a thirst for war These are the Horde we all know and love The next ones you see beat the ones above The dwarves are are born to be hunters The gnomes are sick of the punters The humans build great cities of gold The night elf leaders are kind of old The draenei come from far away I guess the worgen have to stay My writing is done and I bid you good day The end is done I have nothing left to say
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Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
Races of World of Warcraft
We never knew it If you called the phone was ringing on a line that led nowhere The pain didn't shake itself to frothing fury We merely spilled an accidental ant infestation Could be ordered by dripping maple syrup out of pocket Certificate On Demand <>< <>< <>< Well they are also being trawled Trolled, rolled, and hashed Backwards into oblivion Forwards we march to the void With no uniform but the one you made us pay for With every ability but the one to accept a bit of discipline A lashing of the tongue A rolling of the eyes These we claim as ekstatic empyrean and lofty Base and belonging We have never had much of a chance or survived Making time is the one operation that computers are incapable of doing accurately The slow movements of tektonik A bit of spatial dejazz Combines slyruping away at our self-gnawing ganymede Diana sysysus There are Bacchantic poems Earth is playing slower and heavier with us Then then there them We decided deicide was old hats and new sweaters path-dependencies Llavanderias and futbol gols for 2016 never score again if winning tastes like the defeat of all desire than massage me back into a fashion I need a sauna and 3 bathing attendants The stars need less light from us and more humble pie The pour poor por que por que no?
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Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 12:25 AM UTC
Discipline
Yeah you, ******* Woody! If you're gonna get mad at being trolled, You troll, Don't you dare take it out on my pack See? Now I'm a "woof ***** I was a Phoenix before, But reincarnation got the better of me this time round So! Allons-y, mofongulu! In case you don't get that, roughly, that's Later, mother ******
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Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 4:11 AM UTC
Hey You!
I. I was on 7th Street; a troop of boys was riding ahead of me, their backs blazing in light, small lit men full of air, their t-shirts billowing behind them like their swelling lungs, as though they would restrain or guide them— it is the same thing. At 4 in the afternoon the sun could collide at just the angle with the façade of the derelict building beside us, half a blown-out wing —just dissolved: A blind man in sunlight. Its bewildering joy in that moment, as it stood in sun, the carved interior of its lungs gasping in air was enough to split the heart. II. He came back from his brief sojourn at the institution slightly derelict, like a rock tossed and left in the sun. I could see from here his crystalline lungs expanding beautiful and raw in the breaking. He muttered apologies and confessions too desolate to fully sound them. Unbelievably whole in body, his remaining architecure might have stood as only a testament to past, a remnant. You never think you’re going to witness the ruin of another human being. Sunlight and chords fractured in the crystal prism of his lungs remind you that he was human. III. On my desk, a small piece of sea glass occupies a corner with the shells that I stole from a beach in Florida, one of those summers I trolled sand for a single jewelled semicircle, edges raised and grainy with the lapping salt: The carelessly halved base of something gathered in glassy waves slowly disintegrating among my books and shells. At times, boys up the street ride past on their bicycles, or pause to carry small burdens to each other, their dialects lost on the June air as I watch from up the street. They are remnants of me looking for shells or grasping listlessly at walls dissolving in air and sunlight. I try to gather some of the crystalline fragments in my hands. In the afternoon, salt drifting across the table, I glean a few discordant shards, charged with surreptitious and bewildering light.
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Oct 2, 2011
Oct 2, 2011 at 3:29 PM UTC
Derelict
I. I was on 7th Street; a troop of boys was riding ahead of me, their backs blazing in light, small lit men full of air, their t-shirts billowing behind them like their swelling lungs, as though they would restrain or guide them— it is the same thing. At 4 in the afternoon the sun could collide at just the angle with the façade of the derelict building beside us, half a blown-out wing —just dissolved: A blind man in sunlight. Its bewildering joy in that moment, as it stood in sun, the carved interior of its lungs gasping in air was enough to split the heart. II. He came back from his brief sojourn at the institution slightly derelict, like a rock tossed and left in the sun. I could see from here his crystalline lungs expanding beautiful and raw in the breaking. He muttered apologies and confessions too desolate to fully sound them. Unbelievably whole in body, his remaining architecure might have stood as only a testament to past, a remnant. You never think you’re going to witness the ruin of another human being. Sunlight and chords fractured in the crystal prism of his lungs remind you that he was human. III. On my desk, a small piece of sea glass occupies a corner with the shells that I stole from a beach in Florida, one of those summers I trolled sand for a single jewelled semicircle, edges raised and grainy with the lapping salt: The carelessly halved base of something gathered in glassy waves slowly disintegrating among my books and shells. At times, boys up the street ride past on their bicycles, or pause to carry small burdens to each other, their dialects lost on the June air as I watch from up the street. They are remnants of me looking for shells or grasping listlessly at walls dissolving in air and sunlight. I try to gather some of the crystalline fragments in my hands. In the afternoon, salt drifting across the table, I glean a few discordant shards, charged with surreptitious and bewildering light.
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63
I''ll keep this short and brief. Like Sue, I am being trolled. I just want to let those who take the time to leave kind comments and support, I am very grateful for all you have given me here. Please don't think that I am the one giving your comments any thumbs down. On my heart and everything that I have, I am not. I value anyone and everyone who is positive, and that is what makes you true Kings and Queens in my eyes. This will not stop my ink flowing, on that I promise. This page has given me so much and I want to give much love and light back in return. I just wanted to clear the air. Thank you. Lyn ***
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Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC
Also Trolled
It was 64ºf and overcast this morning when Lisa and I started our 5-mile jog to the New Haven Harbor and back. We always start our semesters this way. We’re emotionally ready for fall weather and hopefully, a long and cruel winter. Sunny, Lisa, Leong and I were starting the morning with breakfast together. We have summer catching up to do. Of course, Sunny never does the expected. Over a bowl of heart-shaped Cheerios in the cafeteria, she announced that she’s “really going to try this year.” “That's a choice,” Leong admitted dryly. “You mean academically?” Lisa asked, for clarification purposes. “Wait,” Leong updogged, “Did your parents ask for proof that you were here?” Sunny rolled her eyes, she knew she’d get trolled with a newfangled declaration like that, but she meant it and she wasn’t tempted to elaborate. “You’re a phoenix, rising from the ashes,” I said encouragingly. “It’s a 4th in a lifetime opportunity,” Lisa noted. Handling university academics is largely a structural task. All it requires is artfully arranging information and slices of time. “You’ve got this,” I affirmed. “Let’s not get excited,” Sunny cautioned, “One reason I’m so hot is that I’m emotionally unavailable.” “It’s your best quality.” Leong observed. Tick tock, we’re all still unpacking but things are taking shape. Senior year starts in 3 days. . . A song for this: Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing by Stevie Wonder
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Aug 25, 2024
Aug 25, 2024 at 1:31 PM UTC
lulls
It was 64ºf and overcast this morning when Lisa and I started our 5-mile jog to the New Haven Harbor and back. We always start our semesters this way. We’re emotionally ready for fall weather and hopefully, a long and cruel winter. Sunny, Lisa, Leong and I were starting the morning with breakfast together. We have summer catching up to do. Of course, Sunny never does the expected. Over a bowl of heart-shaped Cheerios in the cafeteria, she announced that she’s “really going to try this year.” “That's a choice,” Leong admitted dryly. “You mean academically?” Lisa asked, for clarification purposes. “Wait,” Leong updogged, “Did your parents ask for proof that you were here?” Sunny rolled her eyes, she knew she’d get trolled with a newfangled declaration like that, but she meant it and she wasn’t tempted to elaborate. “You’re a phoenix, rising from the ashes,” I said encouragingly. “It’s a 4th in a lifetime opportunity,” Lisa noted. Handling university academics is largely a structural task. All it requires is artfully arranging information and slices of time. “You’ve got this,” I affirmed. “Let’s not get excited,” Sunny cautioned, “One reason I’m so hot is that I’m emotionally unavailable.” “It’s your best quality.” Leong observed. Tick tock, we’re all still unpacking but things are taking shape. Senior year starts in 3 days. . . A song for this: Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing by Stevie Wonder
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20
one above another seeking power beyond Mother, Father, God; three of a kind trolled into a full house to douse the criers with gaslighting and rhetoric: "make America hectic"; painting the targets brightly through the sights of terrorists sowing blight in the name of white, white, white power, money, *** insecure, bored, loathing-- guns, roaming thoughts, looming large online, in hot spots traffic's booming, grooming a genocide that hides in plain sight
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Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 12:56 AM UTC
plain sight
I've counted sheep, twisted and rolled as I lie awake by nature being trolled Looking for a place where sleep is sold anything I'd do to slumber in this cold take me to a place where stories are told not only to the Young, but also to the old of fairytales and treasure like ruby and gold to lure Morpheus out his heavenly fold... I need a break for this world feels like hell anybody knows anyone with sleep for sale?
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Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 7:27 PM UTC
Sleep for sale
*White Oaks display tenuous longevity Tethered to red dirt , moss populated living testaments , etched in black decay like tombstones marking an ending location What man did fire in anger from this hillside Fire for daily bread , wracked in hunger , steeped in the unknown , slighted by his brethren , ill recompensed , foolhardy leg deep sagebrush foraging lonely wilderness outposts , a foreign beast racked with chilblain , feverish at deaths gate Hickorys cry golden kin in frosted wind , red inquiries mingled in dark earth decay , vermin infested rot , pungent pile reeking recompense , scavenger trolled dead carpet , crying in fog drenched stupor , collecting in leaf well , motif sunbeam , signaling the birth of midday shine neath Maple umbrellas Beside talking waters , ravenous , diamond temptress , committing Summers deceased corruption to the sea Mosaic sands , evergreen curiosities , glass creek- boulder kaleidoscopes , lapping shorelines , mud foaming froth hiding unknown depth Laughing , forever cascading artery without mercy Teeming with pan , bream , perch and sturgeon Alligator shell scavenger , water moccasin , consumption Pine labyrinths , sunless Fern gardens , Snake , Dew , Red berry briarpatch mazes , rolling countryside without fence , encaged in Crescent Moon , lantern fly obscurity with voracious Aedes vampires , humid , blistering night without end* ...
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Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 8:48 PM UTC
Lost ...
*I drew a heavy hit of fruity sweetness trapped in a familiar spicy bouquet Trolled guitar strings in search of something ear worthy Marveled at the outdoors with full knowledge of my place within her taut boundaries Drew another hit for old friends Then another for no reason at all*
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Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
A good smoke , a guitar and a front porch
I know you are scared... You should ask us if we scared too. I know you are scared Me too... I hate the sound of fireworks. Reminds me all the gun shots near the pier. She brought a 6 pack of beer to remind me that life ain't fair. Life was a dream at one point, then I was rick rolled. Trolled. By all these producers and all these fake agents. Wishing to myself hoping that I made it. Heavily degraded. Two adjectives to smush in like our lips. Please lord give me one more wish.
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Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
He is Kazaam
I knew not of the world I was living in, the existance here, as bleak as the mourning clouds, Trolled by the heavens, and hell alike, This living, is worthless Where once flowed the river Where once blowed the peaceful air Is now dead Not as dead though, as the people living there So as destiny pours stammers on our way Let everything be done, as they may I watch the blunders curl As I pretend to live in this worthless world!
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Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 12:46 PM UTC
Worthless world
exploded, The white balloon filled with black smoke, choked, the little hands that holded, self-centred, doctors asked for big dough, if they wanted to treat their doll, begged, The family members for mercy, joked, The staff and the medico knocked, The doors of society with great hope, peeped, The ghastly devils from the key hole, wanted, The fresh meal of a soul, trolled, The depressed anemic parents, gazed, The time was in hurry , killed, The hopes that were free, drilled, The heart of young she, filled, The eyes with tears, chilled, The warm lap of a mother, grilled, The love of a father, burnt, The two soul alive, and the devils quickly arrived.
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Aug 30, 2019
Aug 30, 2019 at 9:02 AM UTC
Am I a joke to you
You neurotics, projecting your fears… We have savored the salt of your tears. Though he fell with a thud, (yes, the man was a dud) We still trolled you with Trump for four years.
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Sep 28, 2021
Sep 28, 2021 at 6:12 PM UTC
Orange Limerick
Magic Soldier Locked up like a criminal A recluse A lone straggler I treat life as an auction. Yes, I’m a Haggler. I am bankrupt inside I am a magic man See me thick skinned Here is a broken man,,, Strong enough to make his stand. Hiding my broken heart with this stubborn pride. Losing my family Blamed for other’s financial and heart destruction.. Respect is a luxury Life is a school. A learning institution I hardly taste this Caviar I try and out run my history. I have traveled with my baggage quite far A damaged good Inside and out Beaten, ***** and emotionally controlled Another travel to the glamorous neighborhoods. Those in which I see the inhabitance gawk and Point in their polished homes.. shocked at this visitor and feeling “April Fools” Tricked and trolled.. I rose up like the Joker I’m the crazy man “who just sits there to pout.” Giving up the future Half way to an elderly ward He gets through the thick scenes In his strength.. spirts used in bouts.. Words cut a man to his bone.. Stitch my heart with sutures “Make due and mend.” I am brave and sane Even though it hurts to see others as one and I am all alone.. Even when I was stuck in a corner Drugged in a mental ward. I look out a window. Tears hitting the pane. I became the spokesman for strength Take my words, my hand, and Human value I refuse to stay I am far from what these images of my shell appear to you. Alone without his plan and potential forefilled Even the Pandemic couldn’t **** me I manage a miracle and provide some skills That set my pain free Even on the wrong chemically induced life path I dried up and learned The right ways to be a friend A rogue soldier Strength like a tank’s armor.. Dreaming and fighting for the life In which he has always yearned. I shall never let myself end this life Even though moments of hurt cut me like a knife.. without gaining what I deserve After losing the battle I’m winning the war See him stand tall A tall man matched with challenges That never to his soul..do they rattle Steady and viable Due your worst As I can fight and dance to this “rock and roll” Now, see him smile..as his feeling heart Through his chest..it Starts to burst.
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Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 1:50 AM UTC
Magic Soldier
Magic Soldier Locked up like a criminal A recluse A lone straggler I treat life as an auction. Yes, I’m a Haggler. I am bankrupt inside I am a magic man See me thick skinned Here is a broken man,,, Strong enough to make his stand. Hiding my broken heart with this stubborn pride. Losing my family Blamed for other’s financial and heart destruction.. Respect is a luxury Life is a school. A learning institution I hardly taste this Caviar I try and out run my history. I have traveled with my baggage quite far A damaged good Inside and out Beaten, ***** and emotionally controlled Another travel to the glamorous neighborhoods. Those in which I see the inhabitance gawk and Point in their polished homes.. shocked at this visitor and feeling “April Fools” Tricked and trolled.. I rose up like the Joker I’m the crazy man “who just sits there to pout.” Giving up the future Half way to an elderly ward He gets through the thick scenes In his strength.. spirts used in bouts.. Words cut a man to his bone.. Stitch my heart with sutures “Make due and mend.” I am brave and sane Even though it hurts to see others as one and I am all alone.. Even when I was stuck in a corner Drugged in a mental ward. I look out a window. Tears hitting the pane. I became the spokesman for strength Take my words, my hand, and Human value I refuse to stay I am far from what these images of my shell appear to you. Alone without his plan and potential forefilled Even the Pandemic couldn’t **** me I manage a miracle and provide some skills That set my pain free Even on the wrong chemically induced life path I dried up and learned The right ways to be a friend A rogue soldier Strength like a tank’s armor.. Dreaming and fighting for the life In which he has always yearned. I shall never let myself end this life Even though moments of hurt cut me like a knife.. without gaining what I deserve After losing the battle I’m winning the war See him stand tall A tall man matched with challenges That never to his soul..do they rattle Steady and viable Due your worst As I can fight and dance to this “rock and roll” Now, see him smile..as his feeling heart Through his chest..it Starts to burst.
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68
Panic attack Life controlled Humanity lacked Evil trolled Lose ends Sealed jaws Life ends Brutal laws Guns fired Aimless shot Hostage wired Others fought Religion begged Stop killing Ears packed Evil spilling Tv channels Wave rights Sitting panels Look delight Hopeless motion Vote casting Hail caution Tanks blasting Watching helpless Widowed beings God bless Forgive thy sins... ©sim
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Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 3:55 AM UTC
Lose Ends