"underpowered" poems
What makes us being coward?
What is that force that bends our knees,
makes us feel so underpowered
and orders our will to freeze?
Cowardice, doubts and betrayals
goes hand in hand, like sinners
and sink our ship who sails
to the horizon of winners.
More on:
www.mornincoffees.com/cowardice
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC
**** it up,* they'll say
and sit up straight.
But don't you see that we cannot simply do as we are told?
Our generation as a whole is the sweaty gym sock lost between lockers
and the confusion between the zebra being black with white stripes or white with black stripes
and the fine print on the advertisements that reads "for entertainment purposes only"
We, as one, are towered over
underpowered
piled upon with high pressure
and the balloon has to someday burst.
You can be whatever you want to be is the number one statement that the Statue of Liberty cannot hold for her hands are too high and the meaning is written in a frequency too low.
We are are the glass bones that will shatter on wood and there is no carpet or cushion below us and we are tumbling down in what we think we love and what we know we hate.
When the scissors cut crooked, think of us.
We are slammed while we slam and try to create a steady beat which goes stray within the car horns and crow caws.
Small and underestimated.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 12:49 AM UTC
She is a Generator.
But, she's about to cut-out,
Very soon!
She is underpowered
And overloaded!
She needs assistance--energy
From the Sun and the Moon.
But, the Sun's rays
Cannot charge her battery -
It is no longer recharging her,
At all!
Nor, can the Moon,
Any longer,
Be of any assistance,
Or help....
It's time to disconnect--
Discharge from all!
~ Too many plugs are in the wall!
By Lady R.F. (C) 2018
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 7:32 AM UTC
Engine: 2x Daimler Benz 601 A-1
Max Speed: 247 mph at 16,400 feet
Service Ceiling: 26, 250 feet
Range 1,224
Armament: 3-6x 7.9 mm machine guns
Bombload: 4410 lbs
Well armed
But underpowered and slow
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
I hate the way this game we play makes me hate your beautiful face
Eye Use you for my excape aint ready for change the pain always helps this music I make we are getting used too the pain
Cutting the roots so no food is obtained
Telling the truth when we blame
Begging for change like a *** with a sign
That says people cant change
Evil insane keep you in flames like a heart on fire no water for hours leaving this race
Running away with a sour taste another hour too waste hoping too devour a trace of that pain we incased in a painting today
Saving the grains evaded restraints taking the pain then
Staying awake
For a couple of hours taking meteor showers falling down on your surface till your earth splits fealing underpowered like a nervous coward
Dead flowers om the table my angel. I don't think this demon will save you ill take you beyond your limits its vivid but this spirit wont break you
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:08 AM UTC
like fearful birds we stay trapped
inside this small constricting barricade
hiding from whats in the world
as we continue to wither and fade
our numbers are constantly falling
while we are horrifically devoured
always under attack from everything, always
humanity plagues this world and leaves us so underpowered
I was deceived by this false sense of peace
along with the destruction of my walls
hoping my dismal fates will turn around
understand that
in this cruel disgusting world
doing nothing is a sin
so unless you stand up and fight
you can never hope to win
the window is left shattered now
our withered bodies try to shout
running away from this life we cant bring ourselves to devout
we scream for the things we can't live without
This is not what is best for us.
every day
every hour
we need to turn the pain into power
us fearful birds can not continue to be too scared of flying too high and losing our feathers
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC