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"unjustified" poems
Before killing him, your last moments flashed. Those despairing eyes, that begging grasp you died with, and it hit me. At that moment, I finally understood. It never brooded you don't want me to avenge your unjustified death. I didn't know you'll realize before anyone I'll slowly embrace a hideous monster and torture those who tortured you. Eventually, I pulled the trigger and fired. I can't go back. I've came a very long way and can't go back now. I avenged your death and avenged my pain                            and lost myself forever.
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Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 1:59 AM UTC
A Murderer Named Revenge
A man is like a flower Starts with a bud Blossoms into its nature Natural ecstasy and perfection In time it wears out too Finally falls off the tree A natural process A natural phenomenon Naturally the man See as a flower All the nature of being To the base is the same The intelligence the man puts into saying That he is only the creature of importance And everything in the world are the resource Resource to be consumed by himself Is the false flag he is raising And is in the denial of the very nature Anything which is resonant And synchronous to the nature Has the time in nature to the eternity Whereas if not In accordance to the nature Sooner or later On the verse of decay On the verse of extinction I see the human race is in the path of extinction As civilization denying nature rather than glorifying Human beings are far from the true essence And are not synchronizing in the heart Of the very nature The so called intelligence is what humans praise and glorifying A lot full of **** And it is a shame We see the population of human species To rise and rise So may presume the statement I just stated to be false But seeing the thought processes And so called intelligence Is setting the human species To a sense of decay The step to the human race to demolish its own race Is a unjustified intelligence in itself The truth and laws of nature Being in shade Humans incorporating thoughts As a tool of destruction Rather than construction In the field of criticism rather than motivation In the field of extinction rather than sustainability In the field of destruction rather than collaboration And effort in maintaining the continuity Of equilibrium and resonance with the nature On the contrary Making critics and complain about the others Not realizing all are the part of the whole Is creating a challenge to the nature Going off beat with the nature. We shall know Anything not synchronous And not resonant to the nature Nature wipes out sooner or later We cannot accept the very fact it is true Even seeing our own life As a child The bud to the flower The youth The perfection in being and entire existence The new ideas and new world The fruit of generation brings about The generation to come To fertilize the seeds of the existence The old age To be renewed thoughts Nature wipes out as per the plan of its own Accept it as a reality As it is the truth The sharpness of flower Remembered as the youthfulness of flower The bud is treated emotionally With care as it is to be the perfection In the time to come The flower to be wiped out is respected As it was once a perfection Once roared the magnificence of itself Upon this very world The being-wiped flower doesn’t ask For its claim in the now world And indulge the new with its now state But appreciate the perfection once it had   Make believe the youthful flower to blossom And accept its own existence in the present. Every species and beings Are in the nature of being We are no different from the other species We are no superior and at the same time no inferior To the other species And not the other species to us humans Everybody and everything Is the part of the whole The whole is the nature itself.
0
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 2:33 PM UTC
Flower of life
A man is like a flower Starts with a bud Blossoms into its nature Natural ecstasy and perfection In time it wears out too Finally falls off the tree A natural process A natural phenomenon Naturally the man See as a flower All the nature of being To the base is the same The intelligence the man puts into saying That he is only the creature of importance And everything in the world are the resource Resource to be consumed by himself Is the false flag he is raising And is in the denial of the very nature Anything which is resonant And synchronous to the nature Has the time in nature to the eternity Whereas if not In accordance to the nature Sooner or later On the verse of decay On the verse of extinction I see the human race is in the path of extinction As civilization denying nature rather than glorifying Human beings are far from the true essence And are not synchronizing in the heart Of the very nature The so called intelligence is what humans praise and glorifying A lot full of **** And it is a shame We see the population of human species To rise and rise So may presume the statement I just stated to be false But seeing the thought processes And so called intelligence Is setting the human species To a sense of decay The step to the human race to demolish its own race Is a unjustified intelligence in itself The truth and laws of nature Being in shade Humans incorporating thoughts As a tool of destruction Rather than construction In the field of criticism rather than motivation In the field of extinction rather than sustainability In the field of destruction rather than collaboration And effort in maintaining the continuity Of equilibrium and resonance with the nature On the contrary Making critics and complain about the others Not realizing all are the part of the whole Is creating a challenge to the nature Going off beat with the nature. We shall know Anything not synchronous And not resonant to the nature Nature wipes out sooner or later We cannot accept the very fact it is true Even seeing our own life As a child The bud to the flower The youth The perfection in being and entire existence The new ideas and new world The fruit of generation brings about The generation to come To fertilize the seeds of the existence The old age To be renewed thoughts Nature wipes out as per the plan of its own Accept it as a reality As it is the truth The sharpness of flower Remembered as the youthfulness of flower The bud is treated emotionally With care as it is to be the perfection In the time to come The flower to be wiped out is respected As it was once a perfection Once roared the magnificence of itself Upon this very world The being-wiped flower doesn’t ask For its claim in the now world And indulge the new with its now state But appreciate the perfection once it had   Make believe the youthful flower to blossom And accept its own existence in the present. Every species and beings Are in the nature of being We are no different from the other species We are no superior and at the same time no inferior To the other species And not the other species to us humans Everybody and everything Is the part of the whole The whole is the nature itself.
Continue reading...
104
_1981_ They came in like diseased eagles; mutated forms of those they wore on their chest and with the change once again in the weather, the ZOMO swooped in to quell what was ‘wrong’, what would bring them down. They run in the streets as well as the miners, running for different reasons and different aims. I look down, out my window and see the army helmets littering the street like rats.             Police.          Rats. I could no longer see a difference. My father went to work that morning. I clutch my doll knowing the chance of seeing him again is             Miniscule.   Poor. There is no more cereal in the cupboard; there is no more cereal in the shop; there is no more shop. The ZOMO set it on fire when the word                           Solidarity appeared in the window. “We are closing the border for the safety of the People”             Incorrect.     Unjustified. For the safety of You, the Elite. “Nine killed in mine shooting” Which side? Only the ZOMO carry guns.             Fascism.       Communism. I could no longer see a difference
0
Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 9:40 AM UTC
ZOMO
The raged little blue eyed girl had so many years from her past she has cried many tears sitting on a bench with her dog Spot at her side hair not comb wearing cuffed up hole's in my farmer jeans Mother yelling, hold still for the picture or you know what I mean. I sat very still with Spot at my side knowing she was not happy nor satisfied Please Mamma, why can't I have a pretty dress? and look like a little girl like all the rest I jumped off the bench with Spot at my side The picture wasn't taken and again unjustified I was punished and locked in the shed Spot was laying out side the door we were both looking through the crack in the floor I could see him he could see me, Felt like I was lock there for eternity, If Spot was only human he could set me free I'm locked up like a animal and he could be me Laying cold on the old wooden floor, Spot don't leave me, don't leave me no more When I get older I'm going to run away some day Take spot and find a home far away
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Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
The Raged little blue eyed girl
Night has crept up Like a blight on the perfect day. I've become untied by the night's darkness. I'm alone. You my delight, have returned home. You, now are hers, her knight, I am forgotten, like a dream once awoken slipping into limbo. Why do I allow this? Why do I debase myself? Why do you get the night and day? While I get an unjustified plight? When tomorrow comes I will smile and say, "Goodbye and goodnight parasite"
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
Night
When I look into the moon I see the only dependent part of me that still exists. Its as if the silence in her vocal cords spoke words of solitude. I gave her the only bio mechanical part of me that mattered. The gears in my chest keep turning like clock work. I count seconds into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into days. I keep thinking time is standing still while im still standing still. I'm waiting, waiting on patience and as unjustified as it sounds I'm impatient. Dreams are just your natural thoughts heavily sedated, a sub-conscious reality based off the feelings we cant display them. I don't consider myself a writer, I see the constant flow of words and as a kid it left me inspired. I'm more of the sub concious reality type. I drink coffee and outside of that I really don't have a life. For me writing is self exspression without being judged by others. I opinionate my feelings and organize them in ink. The papper is my empty canvas, my thoughts are my judgment, and the pen is the deliverer. Sometimes writing is the only thing that can stitch my wounds, like the words curved inside my brain penetrating like the needlesof a tattoo. I wonder what will become me, in what paradox will I redeem the sum of me? I just hope this bio mechanical heart ticks away. I hope people continue to be people with different mindsets and open steeples. I want love to be found and dreams to be created. Kalvin Moon
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Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 2:20 AM UTC
Rambling.
I came across a fool today hiding behind a profile used for spite and hate a pitiful soul wrapped warmly in unjustified ego Words meant to hurt did so, I fear for his momentary satisfaction a cunning smile twisted on his filth filled mouth while the sun now threatens to leave my sky it's light forever diminished.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 4:48 AM UTC
remember, its a sin to **** a mockingbird.
Your softly spoken words leaves essences lingering in the mist, only to purify this unjustified burden of the ever lasting beloved love... -Ethiiochick
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Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
Essences Of Your Words
Can you stand there looking on As the innocent die? Will you speak up for your own good And for the sake of a life? The guilt may not belong to them An execution unjustified The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you When is it time to pull the plug On someone who still breathes? Who can decided when it's time For them to be at peace? Is it to act on their behalf Or to act selfishly? The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you When is the exact moment when A fetus is considered alive? Is it merciful to abort it when You know it won't survive? Was it carelessness or misfortune That has brought you here to decide? The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you Are we not all humans who may want companionship And might be willing to take that sacred vow? Then why are those who found it in the same gender Told their love is not allowed? Who is to say that it is wrong? Isn't love what it's all about? The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you Where does it say that you can't have *** Unless you are married? It is your own choice and we must respect The beliefs that each of us carries For we have our own  reasons And circumstances varies The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you When is it right to start a war And fight with bullets and bombs? Religious scuffles and political disputes About who was right and who was wrong Does the world need more bloodshed Or has it gone on for too long? The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you I ask you these things to make you think So we can find an answer hopefully These are issues we as one world must face And though we may not all agree We must try to communicate If we ever want peace universally The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you
0
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
A Challenge to Your Moral and Ethical Perception to Find Universal Summations of Truth
Can you stand there looking on As the innocent die? Will you speak up for your own good And for the sake of a life? The guilt may not belong to them An execution unjustified The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you When is it time to pull the plug On someone who still breathes? Who can decided when it's time For them to be at peace? Is it to act on their behalf Or to act selfishly? The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you When is the exact moment when A fetus is considered alive? Is it merciful to abort it when You know it won't survive? Was it carelessness or misfortune That has brought you here to decide? The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you Are we not all humans who may want companionship And might be willing to take that sacred vow? Then why are those who found it in the same gender Told their love is not allowed? Who is to say that it is wrong? Isn't love what it's all about? The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you Where does it say that you can't have *** Unless you are married? It is your own choice and we must respect The beliefs that each of us carries For we have our own  reasons And circumstances varies The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you When is it right to start a war And fight with bullets and bombs? Religious scuffles and political disputes About who was right and who was wrong Does the world need more bloodshed Or has it gone on for too long? The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you I ask you these things to make you think So we can find an answer hopefully These are issues we as one world must face And though we may not all agree We must try to communicate If we ever want peace universally The only thing to do Is pursue the truth And make sense of what's in front of you
Continue reading...
63
~~~ Break the time like the twisted tins on the shack which had broken at the time of tornado Squeeze out of the truth As the juice of the fruits The old saying but the truth Forcibly changed history Erase from the mind understand that false The poem on the torn page piece set of words blowing together as a new blend Just like the Rubik cubes to match with wit and strategy Man I Still hidden inside Persist - for defeat - burn and broken Wrath - dreams breaking tension Anger - failure to prove myself worthy of Huff - your aloof exit Boast - a liking to thee,             love for getting - The ability to be able to still speak of love Like to wandering away from the land of Stars Unjustified For no reason ~~~ @Musfiq us shaleheen
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
As the Juice of the Fruits
We are the material of dreams A constellation falling into place We live on edges and whims An exploration in the dim Our cigarettes are brighter than our eyes Kisses forced and unjustified Our lips reek of haem And our veins burst at their seams We fall with a dull thud far from elegance Mirroring our left of paragons 'Am I to last?' I remember me say And you say crying, 'Your sad eyes gave you away'
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Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
Whimsical
The perfect crime Is rather easy to commit Each person's limit is one time There are no victims in this Because the victim and perpetrator Can never be the same person Everything is a controlled factor And there's nothing to hold you on No loose ends left untied You can leave evidence all you want Your actions go unjustified Can't send you to jail for such a stunt And though it is illegal You won't have to run and hide The perfect crime for all Is simply suicide
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Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
The Perfect Crime
This was a handwritten letter that wasn’t patient enough to wait in the mail. I am a supporter of writing letters. Our world is drifting from the simplicity of pen and paper. We love to complicate things in life. I hope this letter can be a simple reminder that there is happiness and hope, even in darkness that reminds you of ink. The first time I saw you my mind raced to memories of summer days at the beach; campfires; the sound of the ocean. I thought, “She has no idea how beautiful she is. It doesn't cross her mind that girls envy her and men desire her. She is too concerned with the sound of laughter, and how it makes the darkness step back.” I make a lot of assumptions, mostly unjustified, about people I cross paths with. But I am sure you are justified in feeling like royalty. You look like happiness. A fort in the living room that looks like a castle, and cookie dough that tastes like heaven. If the opportunity crosses my path, I would give anything to meet you. If you walked in front of me, I would think you were a shooting star and make a wish. Don’t change. Shine unapologetically. You illuminate the humans around you. Admittedly, the desire to write this letter is still unknown. The desire is there and so here are the words.
0
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
A Letter to the Setting Sun
Missy, Missy Mortimer How does your steel heart beat? Your bloodline oxidized by hate Satan can’t compete. Missy, Missy Mortimer Who do you think you are? A pure facade of intellect Matched by your ugly scars. Missy, Missy Mortimer Obstinate, careless, crude… Hell awaits your filthy soul As you practice being rude. Missy, Missy Mortimer Insult; demean; degrade The power you pretend to hold In your foolish mind is made You cast away the moral code Or perhaps it’s just amiss You justify your horrid ways Your arrogance now bliss. Manipulation, you hold dear As if all cannot see With precision you decide your mark You aim, and shoot; well pleased. Missy, Missy Mortimer No warning you deserve To crush and stomp on human hearts Compassion; no reserve Oh Missy, you may think you’ve won A pin for your collection You controlled and shoved me out your door Unjustified rejection. As soon as I can gain the strength Forgiveness I shall find Your ugliness is pitiful But the Lord’s a friend of mine. He watched you’re actions closely He sadly shook his head Your Father, He wants more for you But on thin ice, you tread. Missy, Missy, Mortimer I pray you hear His call Until then, you stand on the edge Your back against the wall.
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Mar 30, 2011
Mar 30, 2011 at 10:02 PM UTC
Missy, Missy, Mortimer.
I've a particular bias against words that don't conform to the way that appears beautiful to me Works that are right-justified or unjustified or rhyme too much (or little) even just using bold or italics I'm amazed at how I call what I make poems and therefore myself a poet and find nearly no pleasure in most poetry
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Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 4:40 PM UTC
poetic bias
Insecurity is a fast acting disease. Pouring into every cell, thickening the lens, distorting view. Erupt in jealousy, tension fills the chest, breathing deep feels sharp. Pick at their flaws, make them feel small, tempt them to inch down to your level. Do what you can, in every desperate attempt, But the self disgust still radiates off your skin. The unjustified hatred will consume you, convince you, that you truly are the victim. But it is merely a sickness that will eat you away.
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Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 9:57 AM UTC
A Sickness
a little pitter-patter, postponed the celebration and clatter. a little pitter-patter, **** on our family gatherings like it made no matter. pit-pit-pitter-patter. pit-pit-pitter-patter. no screaming lights, the night to shatter. boys went on before. went to unjustified war. felt the hot pitter-patter of hatred, of lead. old polititcians produced a downpour of pretty promises. in the form of "freedom" "independence" give 'em pride and a rifle. push 'em a trifle to strengthen their hide. pit-pit-pitter-patter. pit-pit-pitter-patter. postponed 'til the fifth. so we could remember dead boys in convenience.
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Jun 4, 2010
Jun 4, 2010 at 10:29 PM UTC
fifth of july
Discombobulated... "Bob! You late Again!?" Its not A statement You can make To make her change The date again Happy Belated Birthday celebrations Embracing Her forgiveness As the cure For your forgets Forged Your signature style Across the lines Of her smile As you kiss With the intent To signal her bliss And ignorance What's in store For her Is distortion This portion of life Fused with confusion Contortionist Twisting The body Of lies With the a prose That matches Her pose Unjustified margins Never Crossing the red line But riding it Writing with a wit That could Split her brain In half You call it The gift a gab Emotions versus Logic The verse is Littered with poetry Personified As a woman Mixed feelings Remixed And mastered To produce A new product For you to accept Instead You neglect Her Collected thoughts !Implode! She gathers The pieces To gain recollection Of what happened To her To you To love She battles Herself To win the war With you Tie the knot For christ sake! Or undue "To hell With you!" She yells Her voice fails To really reach you It takes Two To tangle Not to tango To tango Is to dance And you'd Miss your step Every chance You get She feels Obligated To feel For her first love Inoculated By the drug That leaves her Discombobulated...
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Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 12:17 AM UTC
Discombobulated
Wake up to the AA, never a day without. look to the news, schools out? Its only April. Another protest i cant make, another protest another protest, yet no change. My youth being killed everyday unjustified because of people's hatred. A threat he was 12 he was, 14 he was,15,16,19,40,36,32.....he was a threat. 17 killed today because of "bulling" i suppose, he was just ill an broken, poor him right? right. 1000 more suicide a 1000 more hate crimes at its lowest this month. more murders than anything against the people who just want to love; who want to live the way they want. My friends heartbroken families being ripped apart, wondering if they'll be the next to go. Our leaders are full of hatred, making fun of the ill, no respect for the women. because of that i no longer have rights to my body, not like i had them really anyway. No means No, but your distracting the staff ma'am that's against school dress code, go home and cover up your collar bone. I'm 14. You'r making it hard for the adult staff... ya'know The pedo's we hired to teach you, the ones that make YOU uncomfortable. cover up, that'a all we ask. ;)                                                    yours truly,                                                                     . . .
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May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
Daily Life in Generation Z
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, I'm not a poet:) a poet is an artist in cursive a painter with one palette an actor with a wary expression a sculptor with ***** hands a dancer with a broken bone a musician with a mysterious ear and symphonious look in common what we create is a glorious masterpiece in the eyes of millions yet the creator is never satisfied and the flaws in the rusted diamond is defied looking for a define left for the mind to eat and the heart to fight but presented otherwise unjustified -----ravenfeels
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Jul 3, 2021
Jul 3, 2021 at 6:04 AM UTC
A Perspective In Me
What are words, but mere images of time, Leafy similes that tend to rhyme, Melodies that fade away to memories, Written abstractions, proof of obscurities? What are words, except strange tries, To express emotions made of ice, Mere tribulations, left unjustified, Vague articulations that tend to die? What are words, when I cannot find, Adjectives, verbs, nouns, and signs, That reaches the innermost, essential soul, Of my deepest feelings, our very goal? What are words, that leave you speechless, Stunning languages, sounds, scribbled messes, Answers of diction, silly confabulations, Stirring tools, to test descriptions? What are words, which reach the limit, Text, talk, vibrations that fit, The pieces missing, the definition, Lingering in every other exhibition? What are words, what are morphemes, Speeches, utterances, lengths of keys, To the secret reassurance humans need, Sensations of steady expressions in a mind? What are words, boundaries of lines, Vowels, consonants, verbal binds, A stem, a phoneme, a lexeme, a note, On which we all deliberately wrote?
0
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 8:52 PM UTC
Words We Wrote
Powder of ashes like snowfall in winter The air and army withered in a splinter Smoky-grey flaky leaves dead and forgotten Each cobblestone tinted and tainted Things of dishearten I stand in the middle of a big large road With ashen embers resting on my lashes My coat and tote limp from the bashes People lay, some far away and some grey, The death spell cast on all the bay I feel a tug in my heart, Shocked at the sight Cursed fates for a deadly plight I stand alone, guilty for having survived No goodbyes or funerals to leave me teary-eyed The carpet of carcasses in front of me lay Left me with loud realization of a lonesome foray I wished I were blamed for their unjustified departure Or for my survival inexplicable in any form of literature The sky now looks a faded rotten orange With the embers settled like a thick mat on the ground Suddenly the sound of tip tap made me jump From my lost thoughts. My coat and tote comes back to life I feel a tug and around my calf a hug The most innocent eyes looked up at me And said, “Mommy, I want to go home please…”
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Jan 22, 2010
Jan 22, 2010 at 6:43 PM UTC
Phoenix from the Ashes
I'm breaking down. I'm going numb running from the future no solace in the past I can't stand the way you two smile holding each other in a loving embrace and so here i stand watching my veins bleed I know i'm crazy Feelings unjustified I know i'm losing it Anxiety and fear clouding fact So i smile along to the beat of the drums I just want someone to see me for who i am the prying eyes fading away i want them to hold me in a sickening sweet embrace and tell me that though i'm breaking down. tell me "you're going to be okay."
0
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
here i stand