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"tweeted" poems
←  ↕  → U text me dis I text U dat She dissed my dis I sent last Sat. U LOL’ed on down the list I sexted sixth— my 7th missed. U banned my width I booked your face U twittered on— She saved my space. U scrolled me down He tweeted smiles We USB’ed, recharging miles . . . U giga-bit encrypted files; I saved as mine and cached denials. In digital we re-erased, then Skyped our souls and interfaced.
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Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC
Cuneiform: Textual ***********
“I would never be like those girls, they’re crazy.”   Thats what I told myself when I saw every girl fan girling over some boyband. I always wonder why they have to cry even though their idols just tweeted a picture or releases a new song; music video. I always wonder why they have to waste their time to vote. It annoys me when they try their best to get their idols attention by spamming them. Fangirls get to my nerves, but I stayed quiet. I hated it. I hated them because they’re dedicating their life to someone who doesn’t even know they exist. I mean I like some bands, but I never ever did those stuff. "I would never ever.” I told myself. But one day, I woke up… "Hi, we’re 5 Seconds Of Summer." Then everything started to change.   — *And then and there I knew… Im such an hypocrite.*
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
I hate fangirls
“Social media is taking over our lives,” she tweeted angrily.
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Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 1:40 PM UTC
social media
*The revolution will not be televised. The revolution will not be televised. The revolution will not be televised. The revolution will be live-* The revelation will be streaming through your Windows laptops and smartphones. The revolution will be blogged Tweeted, liked, shared, RE-blogged RE-tweeted and Stumbled Upon in between midnight ************ sessions sandwiched between funny cat memes. The resolution will be HD. It's evolution will be high speed. The whistles will be blown at with frequency. The revolution will be commented on; Scrutinized. Vandalized. Scandalized. Stylized and advertized. People will pay attention - People will forget to mention that some stand up, occupy, riot and die. The revolution will not be televised. The revolution be streaming live through the filter of your choice. The facts will be democratized. The democracy will be corporatized. The corporations will personified. People, objectified - Spied on and villainized   The powers that be will will lie, deny, and try to justify. The people will be disenfranchised. Prisons will be privatized. Death drones will be utilized. No one will bat an eye. Because revolution will be multiplied, over-simplified, The violence, normalized. Lives, sacrificed to satiate the Golden Calf's appetite. The revolution will not be televised but Jerry Springer will... Go figure.
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Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 12:45 AM UTC
#TR;NT
The Donald went down to Georgia He was lookin' for a state to steal He was angrily blind 'cause he was way behind And he was lookin to make ah deal When he came across this Q man Sawin' on Twitter and layin' plots And the Donald jumped upon a hickory stump And said, "Q let me tell you what" "I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a Twitter tweeter too And if you'd care to take my fare, I'll Twitter follow you Now you lay pretty good tweets, Q, but give the Donald his due I'll bet a Tower of gold for your soul 'Cause I think your tweets are cool" The Q said, "My game's phony, and it might be a sin But I'll take your bet, you won't regret 'Cause my tweets'll ensure you win Q, fire up your phone and type your Twitter hard 'Cause Hell's broke loose in Georgia and the Donald deals the cards And if I win, you get this shiny Tower made of gold But if you lose, the Donald gets your soul The Donald opened up his cell and he said, "I'll start this show" And fire flew from his thumb tips as he tweeted just for show And he pulled his thoughts across word streams and he made a evil hiss And a band of MAGAs joined in, and they tweeted somethin' like this When the Donald finished Q said, "Well, you're pretty good ol' Don But sit down in that chair right there And let me show you how tweet's done" "Biden's in the Basement", run, boys, run The Donald's in the Whitehouse having fun Ivanka's in the West Wing makin' dough Jared, do your thoughts bite? No, Don, no The Donald bowed his head because he knew that Q could tweet And he laid that golden Tower at the ground of Q's feet Q said, "Donald, just don't concede if you ever wanna win again I done tweeted you once, you son of a ***** Cuz my tweets will make you win" he played "Biden's in the Basement", run, boys, run The Donald's in the Whitehouse having fun Ivanka's in the West Wing makin' dough Jared, do your thoughts bite? No, Don, no
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Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 8:07 PM UTC
The Donald Went Down To Georgia (re-write of The Devil Went Down To Georgia, by Charlie Daniels
The Donald went down to Georgia He was lookin' for a state to steal He was angrily blind 'cause he was way behind And he was lookin to make ah deal When he came across this Q man Sawin' on Twitter and layin' plots And the Donald jumped upon a hickory stump And said, "Q let me tell you what" "I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a Twitter tweeter too And if you'd care to take my fare, I'll Twitter follow you Now you lay pretty good tweets, Q, but give the Donald his due I'll bet a Tower of gold for your soul 'Cause I think your tweets are cool" The Q said, "My game's phony, and it might be a sin But I'll take your bet, you won't regret 'Cause my tweets'll ensure you win Q, fire up your phone and type your Twitter hard 'Cause Hell's broke loose in Georgia and the Donald deals the cards And if I win, you get this shiny Tower made of gold But if you lose, the Donald gets your soul The Donald opened up his cell and he said, "I'll start this show" And fire flew from his thumb tips as he tweeted just for show And he pulled his thoughts across word streams and he made a evil hiss And a band of MAGAs joined in, and they tweeted somethin' like this When the Donald finished Q said, "Well, you're pretty good ol' Don But sit down in that chair right there And let me show you how tweet's done" "Biden's in the Basement", run, boys, run The Donald's in the Whitehouse having fun Ivanka's in the West Wing makin' dough Jared, do your thoughts bite? No, Don, no The Donald bowed his head because he knew that Q could tweet And he laid that golden Tower at the ground of Q's feet Q said, "Donald, just don't concede if you ever wanna win again I done tweeted you once, you son of a ***** Cuz my tweets will make you win" he played "Biden's in the Basement", run, boys, run The Donald's in the Whitehouse having fun Ivanka's in the West Wing makin' dough Jared, do your thoughts bite? No, Don, no
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41
-Light up a cliche under a streetlight while singing "the Star Spangled Banner" and receiving oral from a trans-woman. **** in the drive-thru of an Arby's. -Fist fight a bear that people find much uglier than myself. Made a bucket list of **** I think might be legitimately worth doing; haven't run it by my girlfriend yet. Speaking of which, she deserves a round of applause for dealing with my melodramatic ******** -Strike a police officer, after robbing a bank with a water pistol. I wanted to call her to let her know I'd chased a bird till it crossed the street and tweeted at me in anger or excitement. Flipping the bird "the bird", I shouted, **** YOU BIRD!" and continued home. -Throw a rock at a train. -Toss a Molotov Cocktail at a moving car, and cook a hot dog in the flames. She deserves a million dollars and a ******* Nobel peace prize. -Call one of those panhandling money worshiping televangelists a **** bird, and offer them to **** themselves [the ugliest people I can think of]. -Wear a habit over a burka. I don't believe in souls, soul mates, anything supernatural or special, but I love that woman, and that's why I believe in love. -Not die alone.
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Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
"If Your Bucket List has Sky Diving, You're a ******** [and Other Statements I'll Regret Saying]."
I wove my own web and netted my prize, I cold-pressed my words and refined my disguise. I goggled at life and faced up to that book, I tumbled and tweeted and baited my hook. I blipped and I blogged, I bantered and blushed, I followed and friended, I grovelled and gushed. I doled out the instant, ten grams at a time, To fuel my addiction for caffeine and rhyme. I reshopped my pic, I swiped left, I swiped right, I pinned and I posted deep into the night. I gloated and gossiped, I chatted and cheered, I logged in and logged out without favour or fear. For is it not fun - this mad media storm? Viewing and voting from dusk until dawn. Yet love me or like me, let it never be said, That despite how it seems, it’s gone to my head.
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Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
Media Storm
There's a tree that rest in middle of forest.  A beautiful evergreen tree   Just as shiny and precious as a Jade.  May all the seasons change , Let it rain ,storm, snow, and shine.  The beautiful evergreen tree still Stands just as shiny as a full moon on a midsummer night. It's so astonishing to glare. This rare Evergreen Tree . A beautiful Blue Jay Bird An striking blue bird colored like the ocean . Fierce bird as the tormenting waves . A bird call of heaven  So sweet , adorable     Migrating to post to post.    The blue jay sway into     The evergreen tree.     It tweeted on its delicate branch. A beautiful humming tune , sound of the heavens   Slowly it cured the tiny imperfections              that linger around the tree.              An impeccable romance              A beautiful bond establish.                May the seasons change . Thunderstorm, Snow, Hurricanes ,Tsunami  The evergreen tree will glow sanely Under the moonlight always waiting for the Blue Jay to visit To listen for the humming tune of a romance Under the deep moonlight on a midsummer night           Blue Jay & Evergreen Tree
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 4:03 AM UTC
Blue Jay and Evergreen Tree
I smile when my profile picture gets 50 likes but would it mean more if I liked my face without the assurance of others? Maybe not, I'm a millennial, after all. 1994, born and raised a "90's kid." I tweeted that...it got 12 favorites. Too bad I can't favorite my internal thoughts in order to validate them without sharing them. I sent that as an iMessage to my friend who responded "#deep." I'm posting this poem on the internet so that people I don't know can read it. Maybe they'll even leave a comment. I say what I feel, via text message, followed by an emoji and a hashtag as a sort of millennial footnote, minus the APA style. I'll use LOL style or FML style or the style of ironically using texting lingo to prove that I'm not #basic. I, Lex the Millennial, wrote this poem on my iPhone 6.
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 9:02 PM UTC
Lex the Millennial
Composed wandering the Commons, quietly listening to the sounds of Childish Gambino Confused Looking for the sixteenth time for An escape from the Pru Sipping a glass of Sam Adams Boston Brick Red at a corner of WHISKEY'S on Boylston Stopped in at Ben & Jerry's on Park: Bought a cone of ™ Paid for it with my Bank of America® VISA® P L A T I N U M P L U S ® Checked in on foursquare and read the protest tweets on my verizonwireless® hTC® ThunderBolt™ with Google: @OccupyWallSt #NYPD collapses on #Sanctuary and begins arresting clergy and occupiers inside. #D17 #Re-Occupy #OWS \_Retweeted by Occupy Boston @HoraceBoothroyd @OccupyWallSt Links to sanctuary/clergy violations? Erst I wandered the sights and thought of thoughts Tweeted a picture of the “pro-corporate” march Pictured Headlines: Area Cop Arrests Area Man for Obeying Traffic Signal "Didn't anybody tell him that's not how its done round here?" Cell of Young Idealists with ties to Low-Level Terrorist Organization Busted & Detained: Found Plotting the Grassroots, Digitized, Non-Violent Overthrow of the Status Quo Op-ed: City upon a Hill: “Whose city?! Whose hill?!” #SOPA #NDAA #OCCUPYBOSTON ~D.B. Guy, 12/17/11
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Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 3:35 AM UTC
Another for #occupyboston
She dragged a steak knife   across her forehead. I said,    What the **** is your-- Hey, we all have problems. She killed herself with the memory    of a system. Everyone was begging. Beg. Beg. Beg.    Make me a star!! I want to be    Kurt Cobain!! So, they dragged blades and did smack. Tweeted lyrics and took selfies with a poster of-- But she was never alive, right? There can't be a her if there's a me. But I suppose what it condensed is bound to   shoot out into itty     bitty stars. Good ******* Christ, redeem the men and women slaughtering genitals. Grinding against   the hole in society. Are you ******* serious?   Oh my god, I will die if he takes off    his skin!! What a hunk. It was all elaborate and people were saying   "droll". That's a thing. Everyone was ******* lame. Then, the men stripped. One, Jupiter. One, Titan. And what was stopped was a hurried whisper, traveling the confines of the classroom.   And the men clothed. And the instruments   unused. Sketches ceased before creation. Paint without purpose. What a Greek tragedy. Boo-fucking-hoo. What I could only imagine a slurry of too many words aiming at my brain. The mention of us all. You don't understand. **** you. She dragged a steak knife across her forehead. I said,    What the **** is your problem?
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Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
Certificate of Achievement
You're going to die But there's a list of the 30 best cat selfies on buzzfeed Something is going on in Ukraine, or is it Venezuela? But it's ok... Sherlock is back on And you haven't finished Game of Thrones yet God is a twisted sadist if he exists at all But you have some notifications on Facebook Don't think, Just pick up the phone and play Flappy Bird Let the feelies get to those thoughts that creep in The revolution wasn't televised It was tweeted And its auto-tune remix went viral the next day
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
Untitled
The essential inconsequential Texted, tweeted and emailed Tumblred and Facebooked Of each embarrassing moment. Hollywood star marital atonements, Selfie in the bathroom, Selfie in the bar, Selfie in the shower, Selfie in the car, The intrinsic need, To document each Major or minor event, Led many to the public noose For what they had let loose. They are tried in the press And and found wanting. Wanting more! and wanting more! Only to satisfy ourselves, that we are Hash Tag Selfie Me Truly the center of the universe ....................................JMF 10/5/14
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 2:09 AM UTC
The Essential Inconsequential...a.k.a.Selfie
For far too long we have been victims of police brutality. We came in peace but got treated like criminals on the 21st of October. These are the very same men and women who we trust to protect us. But they failed us dismally, barricaded us from expressing our concerns. You could see the visuals all on TV, it was all too hard to believe. The revolution will not be fully televised, it will be tweeted. For far too long we’ve accepted the government’s mediocrity. For far too long we’ve been victims of police brutality. Your teargas, rubber bullets and stun grenades will never stop us. Our parents were sold dreams in 1994, we’re just here for the refund. Now it’s time to finally bump the cheese up, so what’s the hold-up for? History is repeating itself in South Africa, what a time to be alive. They’ve become worse than their oppressors but they won’t oppress us. Sorry for the inconvenience, we are just trying to change the world. We will keep protesting in Jo’burg, Pretoria and Cape Town until we’re heard. There’s no amount of police brutality that can dampen our spirits and no gun you make can **** our souls. Our parents were sold dreams in 1994, we’re just here for the refund. Now it’s time to finally bump the cheese up, so why is there a hold-up? Hold up, we’re tired of being victims of hate, fate and police brutality. We came in peace but got treated like criminals on the 23rd of October. For far too long we’ve accepted the government’s mediocrity. Your riot police, rubber bullets and stun grenades will never stop us. Sorry for the inconvenience, we are just trying to change the world. When burning buildings come down, I just hope you’ll be ready for us all. When burning buildings come down, we will effortlessly heed the call.
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 6:21 AM UTC
Burning Buildings
For far too long we have been victims of police brutality. We came in peace but got treated like criminals on the 21st of October. These are the very same men and women who we trust to protect us. But they failed us dismally, barricaded us from expressing our concerns. You could see the visuals all on TV, it was all too hard to believe. The revolution will not be fully televised, it will be tweeted. For far too long we’ve accepted the government’s mediocrity. For far too long we’ve been victims of police brutality. Your teargas, rubber bullets and stun grenades will never stop us. Our parents were sold dreams in 1994, we’re just here for the refund. Now it’s time to finally bump the cheese up, so what’s the hold-up for? History is repeating itself in South Africa, what a time to be alive. They’ve become worse than their oppressors but they won’t oppress us. Sorry for the inconvenience, we are just trying to change the world. We will keep protesting in Jo’burg, Pretoria and Cape Town until we’re heard. There’s no amount of police brutality that can dampen our spirits and no gun you make can **** our souls. Our parents were sold dreams in 1994, we’re just here for the refund. Now it’s time to finally bump the cheese up, so why is there a hold-up? Hold up, we’re tired of being victims of hate, fate and police brutality. We came in peace but got treated like criminals on the 23rd of October. For far too long we’ve accepted the government’s mediocrity. Your riot police, rubber bullets and stun grenades will never stop us. Sorry for the inconvenience, we are just trying to change the world. When burning buildings come down, I just hope you’ll be ready for us all. When burning buildings come down, we will effortlessly heed the call.
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25
As poets we listen for the songs of the singing trees, There is no road map as to where to go, Our GPS, it doesn't know, Goggle maps hasn't gotten there yet, The internet will tell you what it knows - Some rehab some restaurant some business selling shoes. It's not on Facebook, My phone may be smart but it doesn't know a thing about the songs of the singing trees. My Twitter account was attacked by a cat, I swear I tried to rescue it, But it tweeted away as it got jumped over the fence. The t.v. drones on and on, HD pictures explode. Our eyes, tho, are far away from all this, Our voices, they long to harmonize with the songs of the eons, The songs of the singing trees. You and me and Thoreau sitting by the pond, the river, the ocean, All day long in this solitude we know, Watching the light dissolve, The moon, it rises too, While we together me and you, Thoreau too, Listening so carefully for the lilting epics of the songs of the singing trees.
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Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
Songs of the Singing Trees
If there was a Medal worn on your Neck Un-Commissioned by any Metal or Cast Was one Purple Flag which many would respect But worry on how your ****** will last Such Flag just stood by, waiting for Salute, Open-palm-right timed to Shots Twenty-One Take it or leave it; Your Brand absolute Better to change Clothes than survive with none What Concern, Sir, does my own interfere If Bland Words tweeted are Letters unread Folly how your Cousin charges me here To assume such Feelings are most undead. He thinks of the Separate and Exist And so do you, which you tend to Resist.
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Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - FIFTY-SEVEN - TOM DALEY
i sexually identify as the 28 degree january breeze sneaking through your cracked window at 5am one time a school of fish said to me, "everything will be fine. we promise. just hang around longer." it was mid-june, i believed them one time i tweeted, "you have so much undiscovered depth. you are an ocean," referring to my gay friend who is known for being sassy and, well, gay and not for what he really is or what he's worth anyway, someone replied to it "you're a cork in the ocean" and to this day i still think about what the **** that even means but its poetic sounding and i like it i guess we are all the **** of a great cosmic joke and i am not me anymore i'm a hurricane aftermath it swept away all the worth i had left and here i am, incompletely resolute my favourite shade of orange is the one leaves turn before they commit suicide and if that doesn't say something about my personality then i don't know what does all i'm trying to say is that the grass is green for a reason and it turns brown and ugly sometimes but it always goes back to how it was before and i need you to promise me that you'll hold on
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
if i took enough drugs to possibly turn me comatose would you still love me: an autobiography
I texted you, You Whatsapped back. I posted on your Wall, You pinged me on GTalk. I pinged back on GTalk, You Vibered me. I buzzed you on Lync, You mailed me on Yahoo. I messaged you on FB, You shared a post on G+. I messaged you on Linked In, You sent a talking parrot on Farmville. Seriously? I invited you to an Outlook meeting, You invited me to your Picasa album. I pinned an interest, You YouTubed yours. I wrote this blog post while you Tweeted. It's time to throw away this smartphone and call home. If you don't answer, I'll see your light on, cross the street and knock on your door.
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 12:56 AM UTC
Exacting Smartness
The sun, on his return, briskly moved to the western horizon, a red cloud thanked him for his shimmering parting gift, a songbird enamored, tweeted with happy abandon: "Wow! can't take my  eyes off, what a perfection, I am impressed" The sun, gently smiled, didn't pretend, he heard, those words. Darkness, infuriated chased the bird away scolding, "keep quiet, you brat, don't disturb, the sun's meditation!" Then, spreads the stillness, no bird is at sight, even winds and waves, stood with bated breath. The purple sun, inch by inch descended to the seabed.
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Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 1:35 PM UTC
At the moment of sunset
Once I had thought that wizards existed and I was king of Persia. I drew with chalk on the ground and sang to the birds, thinking I could speak their tongue. (In my mind...) I could fly, far to distant lands. I could morph into animals and warriors, defending the Queen Grandma from the evil villain Grandpa. (In my mind...) Long ago, those dream were real. There was no difference. (In my mind...) I was invincible. (In my mind....) Then life hit me. (In my mind...) Grandma and grandpa could no longer play horsey and aged to a ripe old age. I morphed into an adult, with bearded chin and hairy chest. My wings were clipped and I was forever grounded. (In my mind...) The birds tweeted, and my chalk broke. My crown was tossed into the bin with my childhood. (In my mind...) Wizards only exist in books. Persia is long gone. Where did life go? Give me my wings back. Crown me again. Let me fly high, let me be king again. All of this, in my mind.
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Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Shipwrecked and Comatose
Strength, oft forsook this Un-Scrupulous Tongue A Tape-Measure's past of Time's Friend prevent I tweeted my News. When his Will was rung To accept this Swallowed Gift I present I never expected such Addled Theme Where the Culprit layed his Murderous Mourn With White Intent, a Blonde's Purpose took scene Then scorched my Patience of trying to learn Because of this all Tee's Hells grew devout And cashed my Young Ally to cost-betray Since for my Horn I expected your Bout But strung to your Brother's Reflex that day. Twelve-by-Six Dues. That is what I should owe A Knot by nature. In Mind's Eye I know.
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY: WILLIAM DALEY
**** sonnets she screamed, half awake,, raspy broken chords **** mistletoe He responded, barely breathing, words are a chore **** surrender She moaned, lonely against the canvas of silver and gold **** alarm clocks He smirked, craving the fabric and minutes to unfold **** ghosts She whispered to the abrupt emptiness of 4 in the morning **** stairwells He mumbled to the steps that tripped without warning **** forever she breathed, breathless against the waves of waterfalls **** sidewalks He admitted as he wandered aimlessly appalled **** flowers she scowled at the precipice of tomorrow **** candles He gritted at the concept of unrequited sorrow **** Thursday she exclaimed at the notion of fresh beer blossom gardens **** July He exhaled against the women who dressed without pardon **** Twitter she tweeted three nights deprived of sleep **** Xanax he stumbled five Klonopin deep **** stars she wished with a mouth of cigarettes and strangers **** memories he insisted accompanied by potions and danger **** you She would have laughed against the midnight canvas **** me He would have crafted versus the twilight lanterns
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 9:47 PM UTC
Greyson
Romeo, oh Romeo Wherefore art thou Romeo? I friended you on Facebook an hour ago and I saw you tweeted recently, so... Romeo, oh Romeo I can see you're location with these iPhone apps And I e-mailed thee this route from Yahoo maps so you should of been here, but perhaps... Romeo, oh Romeo I stare at your picture in utter torment because you deleted my Myspace comment I know! I'll text bomb your phone 'till ye repent! Romeo, oh Romeo They say stalkers should feel ashame' Thy parents say I only have myself to blame I say deny thy father, and...(oooh, I just Googled thy name)
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Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 3:56 PM UTC
Modern Juliet
Today i feel like time wins We never had row, no we didn't But now she refrains from walking slowly Coz when she did i was wasted, Snoozing her out every time she tweeted And I never knew when she flew out of that door And flew and kept on flying Until that day when i got up And i was like What the hell is that grey thing on my head! When her voice grew louder From within the cuckoo The cuckoo in the clock I was a boy when papa got her home Now i am old and grey But she is still yellow and pretty And tweets every single day Waiting for and bowing to none And she never loses For she has got eternity And what have I got? A packet of black dye.
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Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 11:54 AM UTC
Cuckoo In The Clock