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"unfortunate" poems
Now you have to understand that the greatest gift a child can receive is a sibling. Wrapped up in that hospital delivery is limitless potential. They can be your partner in crime, or the key witness in your conviction. A sibling fights the same battles you do just with different tactics. Some prefer to pit mom against dad others dad against mom. No one will ever walk the earth as close to you. Part of the DNA that makes you unique flows in their veins. Even if circumstances change that bond can’t be broken. They will annoy you, steal from you, drive you crazy, and if you’re lucky enough hate you. And yet they are your best friend, confidant, and the person who if you’re unfortunate enough will go to hell and back as fast for you as you would do for them. So to all the siblings out there. May you be playmates in adversity and friendly rivals in joy
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
Siblings
She comes over for the night, She seems to be alright. I'm not sure if I like her yet, But that doesn't seem to matter, She's just that close to my sister. She started to stay over on school nights, Something just wasn't right. Soon enough she never left, I began to feel like I was being replaced. I'm not trying to sound selfish, And no I'm not jealous. But I am confused, Why are you telling me this unfortunate news? She hasn't left for weeks. I'm sick of being the subject of greed. I want my family back. Just tell me that she'll eventually leave. I'm now starting to feel neglected. I've been replaced in every way I had imagined. But you don't seem to see it that way. I don't think the girl is leaving any time soon.
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Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
The Girl
I have the unfortunate belief that my self-worth lies in the quality of my hair. It may sound ridiculous, but it's true. Go ahead, touch my hair. I feed off of your fascination -though I remain engaged only as long as you do- my tolerance for my hair is equivalent to its length. I once had someone tell me "I like your hair better straight" And that was when fifth grade ruined me. I thought by changing they would accept me. And Daniel would like me like he liked Taylor and all of my likes would be returned and Eddie would choose me because we were best friends and I had the fortune of being beautiful but I wasn't allowed to be beautiful to him because I have this hair. People wonder why I spend hours with an iron. But when you're so different that boys won't like you because your hair is curly and you teeth are crooked you have no choice but to change the things that are in your power. I could never make myself fully white But I sure as hell can straighten my hair and let Mamaw buy me braces. They can call you giraffe neck still, but at least your hair is straight like everyone else. Yes, you like to touch it and it's "neat" and it's "soft" But why on earth should that matter to me? People respect my hair because it is mine. But he will not love it unless it is like hers- wind-caught silk that hangs to her waist. I weep for my hair. I weep for my hair. You do not understand how different it is. You do not understand how hard it is to stick out like a sore thumb because your genetics were oppressed for 500 years. I am ugly Because of my hair. No number of people telling me of its beauty will matter because I cannot see it. He cannot see it either.
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
The Biracial Blues (A Tale of Curly Hair)
I have the unfortunate belief that my self-worth lies in the quality of my hair. It may sound ridiculous, but it's true. Go ahead, touch my hair. I feed off of your fascination -though I remain engaged only as long as you do- my tolerance for my hair is equivalent to its length. I once had someone tell me "I like your hair better straight" And that was when fifth grade ruined me. I thought by changing they would accept me. And Daniel would like me like he liked Taylor and all of my likes would be returned and Eddie would choose me because we were best friends and I had the fortune of being beautiful but I wasn't allowed to be beautiful to him because I have this hair. People wonder why I spend hours with an iron. But when you're so different that boys won't like you because your hair is curly and you teeth are crooked you have no choice but to change the things that are in your power. I could never make myself fully white But I sure as hell can straighten my hair and let Mamaw buy me braces. They can call you giraffe neck still, but at least your hair is straight like everyone else. Yes, you like to touch it and it's "neat" and it's "soft" But why on earth should that matter to me? People respect my hair because it is mine. But he will not love it unless it is like hers- wind-caught silk that hangs to her waist. I weep for my hair. I weep for my hair. You do not understand how different it is. You do not understand how hard it is to stick out like a sore thumb because your genetics were oppressed for 500 years. I am ugly Because of my hair. No number of people telling me of its beauty will matter because I cannot see it. He cannot see it either.
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43
Oh black negus. Why do you hate me so much? Noticed I called you by your rightful title. Negus King, Ruler, Emperor Not ***** or ****** The derogatory term originating from the crackers, or ***** the mild disparagement softened by society made to think that it's acceptable. But anyway let's get back to it. Why do you hate me? Is it because of my full lips or my round hips? My low tolerance for ******** The way that my stretch marks are engraved in my skin? Or how the roots of my hair aren't so thin. Is it my naturally sun kissed skin? Even toned complexion? It just can't be my uncanny resemblance to Isis the Egyptian Goddess! So why not praise me for my natural features Why go on one knee for their paid for enhancements Should I react like Angela Basset in Waiting to Exhale? Screaming and shouting while my face is growing pale. But pardon my melanin I was perplexed by this darkness that stared at me in the mirror That stared at me looking in my lovers eyes and taunted me Smiles behind hidden hate they constantly berate my beauty But pardon my melanin My superiority is in my melanin Encased in my skeleton Our ancestors wouldn't like this They would not be proud of that colorism that exist They slander us for our features yet they list after it This systematic thinking has our men slandering us but they won't admit You continue to beat me down yet I am your mother. I am the fruit of this nation. But pardon my melanin So I'll ask again Why do you hate me? We are carved in the same beauty and without each other we can't exist I still remember the first day that we kissed but a few months later you left me for hailey in an unfortunate bliss Melanin filled girls I am here to say You are a queen never be afraid to be seen The brother that disrespect and degrade are absolutely absurd! You are not ratchet bitter or mean Youre a stunning melanin queen So pardon my melanin? Naw enlightened by me melanin.
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Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 1:02 AM UTC
Pardon my melanin
Oh black negus. Why do you hate me so much? Noticed I called you by your rightful title. Negus King, Ruler, Emperor Not ***** or ****** The derogatory term originating from the crackers, or ***** the mild disparagement softened by society made to think that it's acceptable. But anyway let's get back to it. Why do you hate me? Is it because of my full lips or my round hips? My low tolerance for ******** The way that my stretch marks are engraved in my skin? Or how the roots of my hair aren't so thin. Is it my naturally sun kissed skin? Even toned complexion? It just can't be my uncanny resemblance to Isis the Egyptian Goddess! So why not praise me for my natural features Why go on one knee for their paid for enhancements Should I react like Angela Basset in Waiting to Exhale? Screaming and shouting while my face is growing pale. But pardon my melanin I was perplexed by this darkness that stared at me in the mirror That stared at me looking in my lovers eyes and taunted me Smiles behind hidden hate they constantly berate my beauty But pardon my melanin My superiority is in my melanin Encased in my skeleton Our ancestors wouldn't like this They would not be proud of that colorism that exist They slander us for our features yet they list after it This systematic thinking has our men slandering us but they won't admit You continue to beat me down yet I am your mother. I am the fruit of this nation. But pardon my melanin So I'll ask again Why do you hate me? We are carved in the same beauty and without each other we can't exist I still remember the first day that we kissed but a few months later you left me for hailey in an unfortunate bliss Melanin filled girls I am here to say You are a queen never be afraid to be seen The brother that disrespect and degrade are absolutely absurd! You are not ratchet bitter or mean Youre a stunning melanin queen So pardon my melanin? Naw enlightened by me melanin.
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43
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
0
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
Cruel Inhumane Autocracies
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
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55
One friend is deaf but manages to hear twice as much as I do, while simultaneously embedding himself in games and genius. One friend is kind and smart, always complimenting and supporting others before herself. One friend is quiet, and she is both easily embarrassed and easily embarrassing. One friend is the previous friend's brother, and crushes on me while never saying enough. One friend is very intelligent and geeky, and detests wearing skirts even more than I. One friend is really in your face and dramatic, pushing the boundaries on everything, but noone hates him. One friend is the unfortunate brother of a great annoyance, but is her polar opposite. One friend has hair of constantly changing color; blue, green, pink, black, yellow, brown, but always the same hoodie no matter her hair choice. One friend has a thousand faux laughs, but guards his true one from the light. One friend has a mocking joke for everything, and you can't help but laugh with her. One friend has a treasured hat and while sketching everyone, everything, and everywhere, lays my insecurities to rest as I do the same for him, both of us in need of some love and understanding from a kindred spirit. One friend has an obsession with a band and a book and a show, and an overbubbling enthusiasm for everything in her life. One friend has a meme for everything, and a perverse thought for every situation he encounters. One friend is half blind but she manages to see twice as much as me and explains everything beautifully. One friend is crazy and gets away with the exclamation of abraham lincoln in any awkward silence because its just his nature. One friend is as a mouse, but a genius in every aspect and hides behind her glasses. One friend is obnoxiously loud and more of a dork than the gangster his hoodie implies so everyone simply laughs. One friend smiles like a duck in the cutest way, and wears her square glasses in the best way. One friend longs for a love that is loyal and hide s behind his temperment
0
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 5:58 PM UTC
a silly poem for my silly friends
One friend is deaf but manages to hear twice as much as I do, while simultaneously embedding himself in games and genius. One friend is kind and smart, always complimenting and supporting others before herself. One friend is quiet, and she is both easily embarrassed and easily embarrassing. One friend is the previous friend's brother, and crushes on me while never saying enough. One friend is very intelligent and geeky, and detests wearing skirts even more than I. One friend is really in your face and dramatic, pushing the boundaries on everything, but noone hates him. One friend is the unfortunate brother of a great annoyance, but is her polar opposite. One friend has hair of constantly changing color; blue, green, pink, black, yellow, brown, but always the same hoodie no matter her hair choice. One friend has a thousand faux laughs, but guards his true one from the light. One friend has a mocking joke for everything, and you can't help but laugh with her. One friend has a treasured hat and while sketching everyone, everything, and everywhere, lays my insecurities to rest as I do the same for him, both of us in need of some love and understanding from a kindred spirit. One friend has an obsession with a band and a book and a show, and an overbubbling enthusiasm for everything in her life. One friend has a meme for everything, and a perverse thought for every situation he encounters. One friend is half blind but she manages to see twice as much as me and explains everything beautifully. One friend is crazy and gets away with the exclamation of abraham lincoln in any awkward silence because its just his nature. One friend is as a mouse, but a genius in every aspect and hides behind her glasses. One friend is obnoxiously loud and more of a dork than the gangster his hoodie implies so everyone simply laughs. One friend smiles like a duck in the cutest way, and wears her square glasses in the best way. One friend longs for a love that is loyal and hide s behind his temperment
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34
I wish you detox from drunken heights, I’m jesus for today until my current shift ends and the next one begins, after many nights, in the garden centre of fallen south coast eden. Shine shine shine Light of mine For now everything’s just fine People’s faces glitter as I go by, memories of sinless youth, for my hands blind with nostalgia, that my being resurrects. The child Lazarus scurries past my side, to his home with his future in his hands, in my hands, cupped wide. Shine shine shine Light of mine For now everything’s just fine I can love the unfortunate, for my fortune is golden. Delivered in letters from North, West, East. My trinity circle who join me at my supper, breaking the garlic bread and sipping the borello, to top crab ravioli baptised in the stream of sauce. Shine shine shine Light of mine For now everything’s just fine The gates of heaven are open, unblocked by the deaths of Keats, Shelley and Williams, their souls not blocking the exit with an Underground Queue. I give my blessings to Livingstone and Charles Gordon The one native he changed and the others’ sacrifice at Khartoum Gained me my crown to modestly flaunt. Shine shine shine Light of mine For now everything’s just fine I float down the hall, to His Mighty Voice, as my gold becomes a donation on the alter, to gain the choral hymns of Mercury gilded rock gods that will brighten my days for now, oh glorious moments. Amen.
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Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 12:22 PM UTC
The Messiah In Miss Hart's Class.
Tell me why it seems like the walls are closing in Tell me why my hopes they're stretched far and thin Tell me why my dreams still struggle in this fight Tell me why every time I draw air but it feels so tight. Tell me why in this turmoil my heart does wallow Tell me why lifes' lessons by the heapfuls I choke to swallow Tell me why I'm somewhat free but then again I am not Tell me why I really do have but I haven't really got. Tell me why I try to sleep many a restless night Tell me why I am so afraid of many a fearful fright Tell me why I still feel the way I have felt before Tell me why I ask many questions which leaves me broken and sore. Tell me why so much emotions run amok within me Tell me why I look yet I do not really see Tell me why despondence is back; it's here to haunt Tell me why such uncertainties always beckons to taunt. Tell me why I want more but I am quite contented Tell me why I have to accept the path I've very much resented Tell me why I already know but I still keep on asking Tell me why it seems like the reasons are in every way lacking. Tell me why I feel so happy but in fact I am so sad Tell me why it all seems unfair but I have to be glad Tell me why I found love in the most unfortunate circumstance Tell me why to a mournful tune I am stuck in dance. Tell me why my heart feels engorged but I can't release it all Tell me why I am so scared but I would still want to fall Tell me why I feel you close when you're farther than far Tell me why it seems incredulous that we share the same star. Tell me why I long to give you more when I can't this instant Tell me why I can feel better but I seem so resistant Tell me why sometimes I look up and curse at my luck Tell me why I refuse to focus on courage that I really should pluck. Tell me why I lay in bed dreaming of a place far away Tell me why I find myself moping more and more each day Tell me why I chose to be naive and in fate I do give trust Tell me why time and time again it just gets ground to dust. Tell me why I feel so beaten and weak when I should be strong Tell me why I am so familiar in a place I don't belong Tell me why I have to live with a mask on my face Tell me why I feel like a marionette strung up by lace. Tell me why I dug deep when these words make me cry Tell me why the tears still trickle when my eyes are dry Tell me why I share this when I know you would feel bad Tell me why I would even spout the words that make you sad. Tell me why these painful wounds I didn't choose to lick Tell me why I didn't let them heal but instead I would pick Tell me why I feel as though I am quite addicted Tell me why it seems like I enjoy the dark I've inflicted. Tell me why sometimes I question, the things you see in me Tell me why you've said it many times but I don't really see Tell me why I haven't drifted far when I should've a while ago The reason is you; because you have chosen to love me.
0
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
Digging Deep
Tell me why it seems like the walls are closing in Tell me why my hopes they're stretched far and thin Tell me why my dreams still struggle in this fight Tell me why every time I draw air but it feels so tight. Tell me why in this turmoil my heart does wallow Tell me why lifes' lessons by the heapfuls I choke to swallow Tell me why I'm somewhat free but then again I am not Tell me why I really do have but I haven't really got. Tell me why I try to sleep many a restless night Tell me why I am so afraid of many a fearful fright Tell me why I still feel the way I have felt before Tell me why I ask many questions which leaves me broken and sore. Tell me why so much emotions run amok within me Tell me why I look yet I do not really see Tell me why despondence is back; it's here to haunt Tell me why such uncertainties always beckons to taunt. Tell me why I want more but I am quite contented Tell me why I have to accept the path I've very much resented Tell me why I already know but I still keep on asking Tell me why it seems like the reasons are in every way lacking. Tell me why I feel so happy but in fact I am so sad Tell me why it all seems unfair but I have to be glad Tell me why I found love in the most unfortunate circumstance Tell me why to a mournful tune I am stuck in dance. Tell me why my heart feels engorged but I can't release it all Tell me why I am so scared but I would still want to fall Tell me why I feel you close when you're farther than far Tell me why it seems incredulous that we share the same star. Tell me why I long to give you more when I can't this instant Tell me why I can feel better but I seem so resistant Tell me why sometimes I look up and curse at my luck Tell me why I refuse to focus on courage that I really should pluck. Tell me why I lay in bed dreaming of a place far away Tell me why I find myself moping more and more each day Tell me why I chose to be naive and in fate I do give trust Tell me why time and time again it just gets ground to dust. Tell me why I feel so beaten and weak when I should be strong Tell me why I am so familiar in a place I don't belong Tell me why I have to live with a mask on my face Tell me why I feel like a marionette strung up by lace. Tell me why I dug deep when these words make me cry Tell me why the tears still trickle when my eyes are dry Tell me why I share this when I know you would feel bad Tell me why I would even spout the words that make you sad. Tell me why these painful wounds I didn't choose to lick Tell me why I didn't let them heal but instead I would pick Tell me why I feel as though I am quite addicted Tell me why it seems like I enjoy the dark I've inflicted. Tell me why sometimes I question, the things you see in me Tell me why you've said it many times but I don't really see Tell me why I haven't drifted far when I should've a while ago The reason is you; because you have chosen to love me.
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52
November is the cruelest month Reminiscence forced of things far gone and Bitter foreshadowing of what is to come The leaves have lived up to their name The trees, a shell of what they once were The grass clings to its last hope The temperature makes its empty threats The beauty of Autumn deteriorates She is haughty and cruel We were strung along for so long But like all good things Her presence is too fleeting We try to rationalize her departure We didn’t need her anyway Her sister is far more beautiful Autumn was never committed We will look for someone else What luck! Her sister is coming Her name is winter! But alas, how could we love Someone so bitter and cold? November is the cruelest month Joy is attacked in a dark alley Melancholia does the mugging Bitterness steals the Hope November tears apart the heart With a ruthlessness unseen In any other month. The days are soon so short and cold The landscape is so barren There is a hint of snow But it is more like rain It is so unfortunate to see Nature’s beauty going all to waste The thirtieth is here Judgement Day has arrived It is only possible to conclude July was great if too hot indeed January hard but nearer the end September its usual lovely self One month stands alone in its horror November is the cruelest month
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Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
November is the Cruelest Month
flower whose well fed, which love and happiness was led to dance with the wind with the free mind are either lucky, or unfortunate, as the joy feed by their love ones, could affect them nor normalize it's their choice not to value things, and to accept things as it is you're either a rose or a sunflower, you may be an azalea, but you're still a flower, and it's your choice to be a vigorous flower, or to be a wilted flower
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 11:11 AM UTC
a flower
I A playing raging guitar Of a kid with taboo thoughts The first cigar Who fired shots of dots... Don’t care and The revolt of caring Be scared and Be the scare! The acquaint of survival The wrath of revival Is everywhere Anywhere, not visible too The wrath is the root of trouble But the root of solution is not wrath II A desire so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of wealth A pursuit so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of status A need so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of power A greed so greedy III Slaves of virtual reality To whom dictatorship is not real To whom liberality, brutality and unreality Is not real But the ticking clock is not sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock Men who walk toward sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock 'till old growth Tick-tock Loath Tock IV Sit idly-by low self-esteem Caused by lack of ****** Translated to scheme And unfortunate dream For achieving an alleged excellency Or a lengthy and empty possession What frenzy And all for envy V Advertising On bus stops On train stops On metro stops On everything that stops To make you stop And start Over-consumption Over-indulgence Over everything Obesity! Wealthy Withholding from the needy From what they really need Advertising gluttony VI A feature of abstinence Leads to a lack of extravagance But there are no angels Only fallen angels Or angels about to fall A feature of desire Leads to an higher feature Noisy or hushed It can't be crushed It's just fuel swallowed A tool for lust VII Pride is divergent A dreadfully enemy Or an inside allied Pride is divergent
0
Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
The Sevens
I A playing raging guitar Of a kid with taboo thoughts The first cigar Who fired shots of dots... Don’t care and The revolt of caring Be scared and Be the scare! The acquaint of survival The wrath of revival Is everywhere Anywhere, not visible too The wrath is the root of trouble But the root of solution is not wrath II A desire so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of wealth A pursuit so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of status A need so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of power A greed so greedy III Slaves of virtual reality To whom dictatorship is not real To whom liberality, brutality and unreality Is not real But the ticking clock is not sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock Men who walk toward sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock 'till old growth Tick-tock Loath Tock IV Sit idly-by low self-esteem Caused by lack of ****** Translated to scheme And unfortunate dream For achieving an alleged excellency Or a lengthy and empty possession What frenzy And all for envy V Advertising On bus stops On train stops On metro stops On everything that stops To make you stop And start Over-consumption Over-indulgence Over everything Obesity! Wealthy Withholding from the needy From what they really need Advertising gluttony VI A feature of abstinence Leads to a lack of extravagance But there are no angels Only fallen angels Or angels about to fall A feature of desire Leads to an higher feature Noisy or hushed It can't be crushed It's just fuel swallowed A tool for lust VII Pride is divergent A dreadfully enemy Or an inside allied Pride is divergent
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87
there was a time before when I could walk I stepped among strangers on misguided paths on roads unnamed remaining cracked and broken people hid their blank faces steps incautiously taken but there was one abnormal stranger he lifted his eyes above the ground and smiled at the unfortunate raindrops then suddenly I was falling he held vivid color in his eyes life in his dreams the world was dark and bleak yet illuminated by his love my feet have never touched solid ground since and they never will remaining to search for such reason the reason his love can be shown to only I
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Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC
Unfortunate Raindrops
As this world wretches behind the piles of our institutional bones, I turn to look the other way. When the beggars graze my pant leg, I don't stop mid stride and feign over their disparity, For gaining the holy marksmen’s approval. When Judas kissed sanctity’s cheek beside the frames of broken-hearted men, I shook the feeling from my sleeve.   And I no longer feel guilt, shame, Out of mere cerebral obligation. So, have me for a worthless sinner. I will fall to the dust before I bring myself to stand beside the husks of humanity that so many have become; spewing their filth on unfortunate blindfolded men, expecting me to follow suit.        Well, **** off, kindly.       I’m living for the god that answers to no titles, and parsonages none of these black suited scumbags. I’m living for the god that inspires harmony, and lifts my fingers to dance for liberation, and pleasure, and hopeless longing. I’m living for the god of progress who shakes pieces of enlightenment from his gray beard, and swallows up the offerings of his every wounded child. I’m living for the god of no religion, Never saying “God,” For this name is tainted by old customs. Cheapened by the misguided nature of man.
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May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 1:15 AM UTC
Say, "God."
Silence surrounds                                                            The sun still shines but loneliness cannot exist                                               on this perfect day Not in a place                                                                        except, too often, where time never quits.                                                       no children play. It's unfortunate                                                                       The empty park that bit by decaying bit                                                    beyond these walls our generations keep                                                             cries in memory losing grip.                                                                         of laughs and falls. It's a terrifying thought that                                                              But wait, when asked "what time is it?"                      does hope approach at dawn? it'll seem foreign and insane                               He pauses to finish a text.. to glance at my wrist.                                                    And then he is gone.
0
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 5:54 AM UTC
Regeneration
Silence surrounds                                                            The sun still shines but loneliness cannot exist                                               on this perfect day Not in a place                                                                        except, too often, where time never quits.                                                       no children play. It's unfortunate                                                                       The empty park that bit by decaying bit                                                    beyond these walls our generations keep                                                             cries in memory losing grip.                                                                         of laughs and falls. It's a terrifying thought that                                                              But wait, when asked "what time is it?"                      does hope approach at dawn? it'll seem foreign and insane                               He pauses to finish a text.. to glance at my wrist.                                                    And then he is gone.
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12
We found each other at the wrong time From that moment We knew exactly what we felt-- a fire ignites that we have to utterly resist You are with her and I, with him Who knew then? That we will both have the same feelings that has been kept for so long Fate paved a way We were both in pain We found ourselves lost Alone.. The things that we planned for the rest of our lives vanished into thin air and became invisible Then, we found each other.. Again.. We started something special You took my pain away You smiled and laughed with me So innocent and sincere For the longest time We both know what we want At last! We can be more than what we had More than friends This time We are both ready But the odds are still against us How unfortunate this is We both have too much to fix These too shall pass, we know When? We don't know And when it does? Will we be together now? We both know We don't want to let each other go We are both holding on I won't let go I won't let you go I believe in possibilities Know that I will think of you I will pray and have faith Everyday Let's be strong You made me feel special What we have is one in a million I cannot just throw it away Everything you told me will be safe with me.. You are the one that I want to keep Forever.. I think you are the best yet You will always have me.. Come back and find me You already found me. Twice. You can always find your way back to me.. - Ella Salvador
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May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC
Right Person, Right Love, Wrong Time
Art has the unfortunate responsibility of reflecting all the ugly truths of the world while at the same time upholding the heavy burden of hope at the times breathing becomes its hardest we must inhale deeper and transform the pain in our lungs and the doubts in our own hearts into something for others to hold onto to rest upon to take refuge in we must fight hate with love give kindness the strength to hold back cruelty we must eat a little less so those with nothing will have something to eat humanity may seem to be slipping away taking a step too far away to ever come back to ever remember who we could be and isn’t this a beautiful burden this heavy weight upon our backs and within our hearts this feeling that we are still alive still able to breath despite the pain that we can still create something out of the things others would see destroyed the ugly beasts that dress like presidents and kings with no clothes with their ****** power and their blatant lies history will remember their crimes as we will not let them be forgotten tomorrow is not a day they own... yet... but if we want to take it back we must start by doing something today remember artist need other artist to remind them that there is still something left in this world worth making something beautiful for and everyone everyone of us is an artist so pick up your bricks and your hammers and your buckets of paint and let your hearts run wild through the streets and start the taking of tomorrow by turning the world into something better today
0
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 4:14 PM UTC
burden and responsibility
Art has the unfortunate responsibility of reflecting all the ugly truths of the world while at the same time upholding the heavy burden of hope at the times breathing becomes its hardest we must inhale deeper and transform the pain in our lungs and the doubts in our own hearts into something for others to hold onto to rest upon to take refuge in we must fight hate with love give kindness the strength to hold back cruelty we must eat a little less so those with nothing will have something to eat humanity may seem to be slipping away taking a step too far away to ever come back to ever remember who we could be and isn’t this a beautiful burden this heavy weight upon our backs and within our hearts this feeling that we are still alive still able to breath despite the pain that we can still create something out of the things others would see destroyed the ugly beasts that dress like presidents and kings with no clothes with their ****** power and their blatant lies history will remember their crimes as we will not let them be forgotten tomorrow is not a day they own... yet... but if we want to take it back we must start by doing something today remember artist need other artist to remind them that there is still something left in this world worth making something beautiful for and everyone everyone of us is an artist so pick up your bricks and your hammers and your buckets of paint and let your hearts run wild through the streets and start the taking of tomorrow by turning the world into something better today
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68
We're in hell Can't you tell? No you can't You only listen to the teller All other voices are drowned Because he's a yeller For the useless things we're bound That fill up our cellar And our living room turns into a dying room When the seller is the jailer And salvation comes from tailors Who can cover up the pain inside With all the comfy clothes we buy Money is the blood of our society It's circulation provides oxygen But we spill money into spilling blood And we're funneled into killing love So we can concern ourselves With people not getting things they don't deserve Rather than people getting what they need Our blood starts clotting In the fortunate arteries As the rest of our body goes numb It seeks medicine for healing And drugs become our autoimmune disease Redistributing blood to the suffocated areas An unfortunate recompensing for injustice When the persecutors Become the prosecuted Lives are exploded Like Afghan villages Lives can grow back Like poppy fields That's the score And it makes me want to score Until ****** drips from every pore And ******* fills me to the core I could just live at the liquor store Where benzos are my father And **** my mother So I can ignore the death of my brother My family is in trouble Our society is in rubble
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Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
Medicine
*See the show is over, behind the red curtain you can't see me cutting up my fingers using my blood and tears to pick up what's left of my heart. We're done, been done…we were over before we could start. Some ***** you are....some ***** filthy, manipulative, sneaky, overbearing, cold hearted, insensitive, ***** of a ***** you are. Some ***** you are….some charming, loveable, selfless, funny, intelligent, creative, artistic, handsome, good **** slangin'……perfect man you are. Prince Charming, you used your sword, on the one you for swore, that you'd love me till and beyond the day that I'm dead. Unfortunate mistakings……burn me at the stake, but first it's off with my head. Charming and flirtatious, so easy to fall in love……but it's being so charming and flirtatious that's got me trying on OJ's gloves. I'm the witch and you're the townspeople secretly fascinated but you'll never say. I'm still in love with you, let's just swallow our pride and give each other's the time of day. I'm still your weakness, you believe I'm that gullible and I don't know at all……because I stuck my pin through your Voodoo corpse right in the heart, and then you gave me a call. I heard the sorrow in your voice and I know you sensed my tears, with the so unslick cracks in my voice and sniffles flooding your ears. I'm yours, and you're mine, last time I said it was the last time……but you're the love of my life and even if we're not together that'll last a lifetime.*
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Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
Witchcraft
*See the show is over, behind the red curtain you can't see me cutting up my fingers using my blood and tears to pick up what's left of my heart. We're done, been done…we were over before we could start. Some ***** you are....some ***** filthy, manipulative, sneaky, overbearing, cold hearted, insensitive, ***** of a ***** you are. Some ***** you are….some charming, loveable, selfless, funny, intelligent, creative, artistic, handsome, good **** slangin'……perfect man you are. Prince Charming, you used your sword, on the one you for swore, that you'd love me till and beyond the day that I'm dead. Unfortunate mistakings……burn me at the stake, but first it's off with my head. Charming and flirtatious, so easy to fall in love……but it's being so charming and flirtatious that's got me trying on OJ's gloves. I'm the witch and you're the townspeople secretly fascinated but you'll never say. I'm still in love with you, let's just swallow our pride and give each other's the time of day. I'm still your weakness, you believe I'm that gullible and I don't know at all……because I stuck my pin through your Voodoo corpse right in the heart, and then you gave me a call. I heard the sorrow in your voice and I know you sensed my tears, with the so unslick cracks in my voice and sniffles flooding your ears. I'm yours, and you're mine, last time I said it was the last time……but you're the love of my life and even if we're not together that'll last a lifetime.*
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1
America the great? No, America is hate. Divided by supremacy yet, we're called "United" States. The unfortunate reality but, I still have faith that we'll get through this together, that we'll make it through these days. Through all these mixed emotions I just want to say, this is what it's come to and NO, IT'S NOT OKAY. To all my people who are hurting, I feel you & your pain. This is "America" & it's a ******* disgrace. To Mexican & African Americans & gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transgenders, I pray. Muslims, queers, intersexuals, stay safe. Asexuals, low income, & women, have strength. To all the disabled and victims of **** & to those that suffer from constant dismay, I feel for you, I feel your pain. Through love and unity our strength shall remain.
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Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 1:01 AM UTC
2016 Elections
She wears a fine white dress With a simple smile across her face She lives a life without selfishness And that's the kind of a girl a man would chase She gives her hand to the unfortunate Without expecting anything in exchange She gives her all and doesn't hesitate Coz her heart seems clear as a page But there's a part of her she doesn't want to show She's lost on her little world And no one would know For they failed to noticed the tears she holds She gives her heart, her mind, her soul But her delight suddenly turned to shiver Her heart was left with a hole Coz no one dared to look back at her
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Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 8:56 PM UTC
Selfless Yet Forgotten
The unfortunate things take our Lives. They storm the castle walls of Living, And run like hordes throughout Life. We, at times, are too lazy to Fight.
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Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 11:45 PM UTC
Lives Living Life Fight
There was an Old Man of Peru, Who watched his wife making a stew; But once by mistake, In a stove she did bake, That unfortunate Man of Peru.
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6.1k
There Was An Old Man Of Peru
Living this life is unpredictable until the end; conclusions of the statement are only made from opinionated experiences. At the dawn of birth, there is "choice" and "choices", are for better or worse. There is an expression that goes, "everything is likely fifty-fifty in choosing", consequently believe it to be true. Humanity exemplifies a just way of living, in an understanding that people make poor decisions due to the life they may have been brought up in, however, this life is full of petty mistakes as we know it, some unfortunate souls are born into a dysfunctional or broken family and others of a different situation i.e.(poverty). This could cause unjust mannerisms that occur in the daily lives we so often face. These situations very freely throw more than the average curve ball growing up. Sadly, I ask that we feel sorrow for the majority of individuals with an intention that in reading this; it would justify some clarity in my eyes through yours. With clarity, let there be a world in heartthrob, which could potentially change mankind towards purity. A very specific conclusion led me to this; When a man struggles at his own destiny because of his nature vs. nurture, his good along with his bad leak like a salivating sieve. However, his “good” shows his mentality and lust for life, yet his “bad”, shows his incompetence relating to a moral dignity for the greater good of living (if unfortunate). As this revelation evolves, humanistic mannerisms slowly slip away in a young society and fade from the common core values we once knew from our elders. Surrounded by an ideological critical society, a fear trembles for our youth has no future in a sense for they may be too deaf to hear their state of “consciousness”, to the extent of being blind to see their own “actions”. "The unknown spectator of our world; is the light beyond the dark,"
0
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 12:17 AM UTC
A Troubled Youth
Living this life is unpredictable until the end; conclusions of the statement are only made from opinionated experiences. At the dawn of birth, there is "choice" and "choices", are for better or worse. There is an expression that goes, "everything is likely fifty-fifty in choosing", consequently believe it to be true. Humanity exemplifies a just way of living, in an understanding that people make poor decisions due to the life they may have been brought up in, however, this life is full of petty mistakes as we know it, some unfortunate souls are born into a dysfunctional or broken family and others of a different situation i.e.(poverty). This could cause unjust mannerisms that occur in the daily lives we so often face. These situations very freely throw more than the average curve ball growing up. Sadly, I ask that we feel sorrow for the majority of individuals with an intention that in reading this; it would justify some clarity in my eyes through yours. With clarity, let there be a world in heartthrob, which could potentially change mankind towards purity. A very specific conclusion led me to this; When a man struggles at his own destiny because of his nature vs. nurture, his good along with his bad leak like a salivating sieve. However, his “good” shows his mentality and lust for life, yet his “bad”, shows his incompetence relating to a moral dignity for the greater good of living (if unfortunate). As this revelation evolves, humanistic mannerisms slowly slip away in a young society and fade from the common core values we once knew from our elders. Surrounded by an ideological critical society, a fear trembles for our youth has no future in a sense for they may be too deaf to hear their state of “consciousness”, to the extent of being blind to see their own “actions”. "The unknown spectator of our world; is the light beyond the dark,"
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43
Silver skies, tranquil nights Gently gazing down from afar Silver rooftops, twinkling lights Buried deep among the stars Silver memories paint silver portraits Hung from my interior walls Silver melodies, not unfortunate I hear, my name, it calls Silver teardrops stain my cheeks Making melancholy of innocence Silver snowstorms, heartache's peak An evocative and celibate synthesis Silver dreams, silver eyes Meet silver nights, tranquil skies
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Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 5:42 AM UTC
A Very Sonnet
By the time you swear you're his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his passion is Infinite, undying - Lady, make a note of this: One of you is lying.
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5.5k
Unfortunate Coincidence