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"unmercifully" poems
The eye of the hurricane Swept through a country side Not batting an eye All those in it's path perish A mosque, a person, a Muslin Another, another, another Until 49 were gunned down Killed Executed And many more injured Scarred forever in·dis·crim·i·nate·ly A finger on a trigger Held steady Unmercifully Picking targets To cries and screams With no regard for life Only for the shooter To make a name for himself His message board His manifesto His hate of immigrants Muslims Leaving in it's path Bloodshed A country's darkest day His infamy Who is this individual The eye of the hurricane Sitting in the middle Teetering to the right An extremist Category of the worst kind A patch of ****** Sitting in his landscape Of his sunken mind Incarceration Laughing, laughing, laughing Today, today, today And this was his trigger His devil His dialogue Today he spoke Another, another, another To cries That echo Forever Long after the hurricane Loses its tail This makes me sick I look up in the sky and ask why Logan Robertson 3/15/2019
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Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 7:23 PM UTC
New Zealand's Darkest Cloud
the streets are ****** with our self denial we beat ourselves senseless with our police mentality we are the masters of our slavery we abuse ourselves unmercifully the streets are prisons we make we say we do it for our unborn children's sake we are the masters of our slavery we abuse ourselves unmercifully unmercifully we desire to be the .....house slaves we do not want to be the..... factory worker we are the policemen we have adopted slave mentality we are the masters of our slavery we abuse ourselves unmercifully come away boy come away girl there is a better world somewhere away from the streets we ****** with our self denial and police mentality
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Sep 23, 2010
Sep 23, 2010 at 9:54 AM UTC
masters of our slavery
You notice the browning leaves, Early victims, In midsummer Late July and August And they parallel our love Crisping stale edges Edging inward Inward to where growing used to be I blame the sun The sun of truth Blasting unmercifully on our greenness And returning us to the soil Of amorous compost.
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
Love And Sunshine
The dark and devilish nature of her words Strike my soul with bone crushing impact Delivering me to unfathomable heights Soaring beyond valleys of unspoken truths I swear I could feel the searing pain secreting From the puddles of ink unmercifully *********** From within her little black pen of revenge A cold, hard case of poetic justice iced my veins Slashing fiercely through the tender tissues of my heart Leaving a dreadful scar of excruciating scorn Forever embedded in what was once a sacred home It was as if a voodoo ritual was taking place Possessing every inch of my flesh successfully Soaking my skin with tsunamis of fear Compelling my body to dance with the spirit As I danced to the rhythm of the drums A cloud of smoke was blown to distort my vision In the wake of the smoke I began to hallucinate The image of a **** harlot equipped with a machete Appeared before my eyes taking me by surprise Ready to slaughter and **** all who oppose her And rob them of their oh so precious manhood She pressed her lips against the blade then blew a kiss The kiss caressed my lips with the taste of honey By the swift blow of a gentle breeze she was gone When I returned from this coma of entertainment A severe addiction was unmistakably evident My taste buds craved for more of this woman's literature I had fallen victim to her powerful hex of poetic justice By Glenn McCrary © 2011 Glenn McCrary (All rights reserved)
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Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 6:28 AM UTC
Voodoo Autograph
Consideration took into account Conditions to be deliberated Planning in advance Kept a count Their intentions set in mind Way ahead of time If compassion, were to be Handed out Sympathy checked in with feelings Seeking out the strongest surge While sorrow and misfortune began reeling Within an Empathetic urge Frightened panic cried out in dismay At sympathies fearlessness While unkind words unmercifully Shook the day
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Oct 13, 2010
Oct 13, 2010 at 7:37 PM UTC
Defining Intentions
I don’t like the ant Or that is to say There is something about them I don’t like They are unthinking They lay chemicals at dawn And don’t stop searching until night is strong They are unthinking Moving unmercifully The hive mind their meaning that I despise Something about them This ant will never know freedom In nature This worker ant both night and day In nature Being for the benefit of the queen There is no laughter Not in the cities Not in the sprawling farms and endless roads There is no laughter Just hands hardened by toil On cast iron tools and heavy machines I don’t like the ant They are unthinking They searching blindy restless legs forever seek With no imigination The ant is just a slave A slave who doesn’t want freedom They are unthinking The ant will never know laughter In nature The ant is just a reminder In nature
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Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 5:38 PM UTC
Ode to the Ant
Centuries far ago In the African state of Congo Trespassed by the heartless whites Civilizing the blacks, against their rights They invaded them under a false pretence They shattered humanism’s true essence Several men decayed, as malnourished For being skinned in charcoal colour they were punished The invaders sowed the seeds to racism It grew larger using euphemism It all spread like a malicious talk Darkness bowed when the white flesh would walk Subjugated with iron chains the slaves marched With empty stomachs and throats parched Killed unmercifully if they refused a task After all, the devil resided behind the white mask They looted several nations Leaving behind schools and railway stations But who would benefit from development of this kind? In the darkness, hearts had turned blind Oh, one day back then it all changed Hearts pumped louder through the ribs that were caged Unleashing those iron chains they chased; Till those heartless masters felt disgraced The dark cloak of slavery burnt to dust While freedom of sunshine sparkled on all the rust Each enslaved human fought for what is right No one could dare to break their might Blood was shed on both sides But they didn’t cease their stride Back then they made them flee But those racist seeds flew across seas The darkness never prevails From one land to another it sails Only the goodness in one’s soul, Can take the darkness for a toll! -Zainab Attari
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
Heart of Darkness
Entities of Reality stalk haunt humankind Teasing unmercifully promising in person A plain brown package; The Mind’s Eye;  Pandora’s Box. Desire disguised as a need, want, or a trophy. Consciousness trying to escape the emptiness. It doesn’t matter;  How can we rise above, transcend it? The tears won’t stop?  Call them Tears of Joy;  Gratitude. Make promises to get what you want, then wait to see. Pretend to be Happy;  Joyful;  Hide the Pain. Make jokes!  Laugh your way through the heartache!  Look happy! Want it?  Take it!  Don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth! Feeling guilty about it is unproductive. Saving Grace;  Just Passing Thru;  Get Out of Jail Free! It doesn’t matter;  Unconditional Forgiveness. It doesn’t matter;  We’re all going to the same place someday. It doesn’t matter;  We’re all going to Heaven anyway. Despair, Distress, Hopelessness;  An Undeserved Mess! What’s in it for You?  Recognition?  Salvation? Generosity;  Curiosity;  Doesn’t Pay! Return it!  Get a Refund!  Just use it, don’t buy! Redemption; Reconciliation; Justified; It doesn’t matter;  Give it back: Return To Sender It doesn’t matter;  We’re all going to the same place someday. It doesn’t matter;  We’re all going to Heaven anyway.
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Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 3:13 PM UTC
Pandora's Box
you’ll never feel the bite of pain that tears the skin from bone nor the aching loneliness that scares the heart from home the absoluteness that leaves a hole where nothing is able to hide while driven by the loathing birthing a life to the love inside no matter what the circumstance you can’t negate the absolute horror of wanting what is begged for there is no returning the honor I’ll whip my self unmercifully until the end of a perfect day even while you subjugate me my scars upon myself just say how much you intended to deny me all twisted parts upon me are a whole crisscrossed upon my body are the marks that give you access to my soul
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Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 7:05 AM UTC
self flagellation
I was hasty and stupid. I did not know what i wanted. When i saw you all i wanted was to snog you You looked feckin perfect in your blue shoes. I didn't know what was coming my way. I didn't know i was going to get hurt that way. Cold-bloodedly and unmercifully. Painfully and pitifully. I was ****** ignorant.... You were my bestfriend's ****** girlfriend!!!!!! Thank you for making me romance-intolerant.
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Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 7:50 AM UTC
Romance-Intolerant
A bad hand delt, a crippling hopelessness felt In possession of a heart that can't and won't melt Whipped unmercifully with a tanned hide belt So often in fact it no longer leaves a welt Only a lonely darkness under this human pelt Always knew when the fear was near by how bad it smelt And out of respect, or maybe terror, every time it arrived, I knelt ©2023
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Nov 17, 2023
Nov 17, 2023 at 7:06 PM UTC
~•§•~ Pains Arrival ~•§•~
A living, fire-breathing dragon is Equivalent to your personality Treading across your path is A crucial threat to life expectancy Unmercifully you scorch any creature That catches your eye Staining your victims with emotions Of deep guilt and regret How can you hold back the tears From the anguish you conceived? It must be hard to swallow ‘cause It burns the passage of your throat At the same temperature of heat you Bestowed upon those innocent people Stings doesn't it? Well now you know How excruciating it was for me My heart has summoned me Here to inform you Of a contractual notice confirming your Assassination and cremation Karma was bound to Bite you back sooner or later So take this pen and sign Your death certificate with pride Be as brave as you were when You ruined the beauty of billions Be as confident as you were when You drowned the human race In a sea of Your chaotic arrogance Enjoy your cremation I hope You scream and suffer In streaming tears of Well deserved agony By Glenn McCrary © 2011 Glenn McCrary (All rights reserved)
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Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 10:46 AM UTC
Burn Notice
You ask us to follow You To fracture the foolishness that unmercifully undermines us Why are we persistent in our poisonous pride And obdurately grasp the darkness that destroys us The deafening depression, the hardened hatred, the conflicting chaos When You are the light that gives us hope The One who can bring us back to life You create wonders out of nothing Surely You can make something out of us What You have to offer is so much more Than what we must relinquish
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Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
Give it All
Before the UK Election Those Tory Trolls slagged off The Labour Leader Jeremy Corbyn Unmercifully – Dredging up his distant past, Turning his heroic quest for Peace in Northern Ireland Into an act of alleged “treason” And much more. They painted a grim grey scene. But like King Arthur and his gallant knights, Corbyn unsheathed his own Excalibur: That mighty thing called “Hope”. He offered us all a brighter future, Except perhaps for the greedy rich, To sweep through the enemy ranks Upon his horse, “Momentum”. Once more to the breach… And as the opinion polls swing More and more in his favour, Victory for Labour Is only a matter of time. Paul Butters
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Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
The Hope Party
White dress, wedding gown now heading downtown second thoughts, too late. Two jobs, feel spent struggling to pay rent abused by her husband. And they say he always hits her daily even more so lately been that way since eighteen and lately her face seems sunken in and bony looking more than gloomy and she screams the worst things in life are dear to us yes I love him with all I have even though he treats me bad but I don't want to go home tonight if I go home he could **** me beat me unmercifully yes I'm to scared inside to go home tonight to go home tonight. Torn shirt, black eye beaten till she wants to die curled up, long cry. Drunk night, comes home she finally grabs the phone cops come, now alone. And they say he always hit her daily even more so lately been that way since eighteen and lately her face seems sunken in and bony looking more than gloomy and she screams the worst things in life are dear to us yes I love him with all I have even though he treats me bad but I don't want to go home tonight. If I go home he could **** me beat me unmercifully yes I'm to scared inside to go home tonight but I go home tonight dressed in white teary eyed ready for a better life for the first time, I feel safe tonight ready for this new life. And they say she smiles more lately since he went away been that way since that night and lately her face seems brighter and less weary looking lots more cheery and she screams the worst thing in my life is gone from me yes I loved him with all I had but now he's gone and I feel so glad now I'm not scared inside to go home tonight to go home tonight.
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Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 4:14 AM UTC
First attempt at song writing
White dress, wedding gown now heading downtown second thoughts, too late. Two jobs, feel spent struggling to pay rent abused by her husband. And they say he always hits her daily even more so lately been that way since eighteen and lately her face seems sunken in and bony looking more than gloomy and she screams the worst things in life are dear to us yes I love him with all I have even though he treats me bad but I don't want to go home tonight if I go home he could **** me beat me unmercifully yes I'm to scared inside to go home tonight to go home tonight. Torn shirt, black eye beaten till she wants to die curled up, long cry. Drunk night, comes home she finally grabs the phone cops come, now alone. And they say he always hit her daily even more so lately been that way since eighteen and lately her face seems sunken in and bony looking more than gloomy and she screams the worst things in life are dear to us yes I love him with all I have even though he treats me bad but I don't want to go home tonight. If I go home he could **** me beat me unmercifully yes I'm to scared inside to go home tonight but I go home tonight dressed in white teary eyed ready for a better life for the first time, I feel safe tonight ready for this new life. And they say she smiles more lately since he went away been that way since that night and lately her face seems brighter and less weary looking lots more cheery and she screams the worst thing in my life is gone from me yes I loved him with all I had but now he's gone and I feel so glad now I'm not scared inside to go home tonight to go home tonight.
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65
When I was 5 I started to put sharpie or pen on my nails to make them black. And I even recall on one instance where I put mascara in my hair to give myself black streaks. I now want black stiletto nails, and I know that many others have them, or even just paint their fingernails black. And it makes me think, black is such a beautiful colour and yet we put down and make fun of the people of that colour. They can't change it, and they shouldn't have to feel that they must. Being another colour than white shouldn't be a day to day burden or task. It should make you feel beautiful and blessed. But not everyone sees it that way. It's a shame really, you see so many superb black men and women that stand out in this day and age and community. And it has been that way for centuries. Giving us all music to move to and lose ourselves in, books to read (perhaps more than once), movies to watch and adore, and many other things. And yet people don't realize, they're just HUMAN. Not having a choice of what pigmentation their skin is. Being beaten unmercifully, and some being prosecuted not from their actions but because people have come to terms that all of that colour perform the same cruel acts. Stereotypes; It's not fair and I refuse to live in a society that is so mean and brutal. Be nice to people regardless of their skin, the look or feel of it. Be helpful to those in need regardless if others wouldn't because they have different views than you. I'm not saying this little collection of words will change the world. But I'm letting it be known that I myself will not be spiteful towards others that have not been to me. Just because their skin may shout out because it is darker than others, it doesn't make them less of a person. You don't want people to be put in boxes and yet you categories them, making them feel small and wrong. We have come such a long way, not just for this subject but for others. But I want my voice to be heard and my opinion to be stated. And for others to not be so crass and quick to judge. People are people, and deserve to be treated like it.
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
Black
When I was 5 I started to put sharpie or pen on my nails to make them black. And I even recall on one instance where I put mascara in my hair to give myself black streaks. I now want black stiletto nails, and I know that many others have them, or even just paint their fingernails black. And it makes me think, black is such a beautiful colour and yet we put down and make fun of the people of that colour. They can't change it, and they shouldn't have to feel that they must. Being another colour than white shouldn't be a day to day burden or task. It should make you feel beautiful and blessed. But not everyone sees it that way. It's a shame really, you see so many superb black men and women that stand out in this day and age and community. And it has been that way for centuries. Giving us all music to move to and lose ourselves in, books to read (perhaps more than once), movies to watch and adore, and many other things. And yet people don't realize, they're just HUMAN. Not having a choice of what pigmentation their skin is. Being beaten unmercifully, and some being prosecuted not from their actions but because people have come to terms that all of that colour perform the same cruel acts. Stereotypes; It's not fair and I refuse to live in a society that is so mean and brutal. Be nice to people regardless of their skin, the look or feel of it. Be helpful to those in need regardless if others wouldn't because they have different views than you. I'm not saying this little collection of words will change the world. But I'm letting it be known that I myself will not be spiteful towards others that have not been to me. Just because their skin may shout out because it is darker than others, it doesn't make them less of a person. You don't want people to be put in boxes and yet you categories them, making them feel small and wrong. We have come such a long way, not just for this subject but for others. But I want my voice to be heard and my opinion to be stated. And for others to not be so crass and quick to judge. People are people, and deserve to be treated like it.
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26
The ice Beneath our feet Is very thin Our hearts Are covered By skin We assume The facade Will hold But the water Below the ice Is very cold And the distance Between life and death Is very slight The net Beneath our lives Is for black, brown and white Life Below the net Is death We walk Watching the cracks Measuring each step We fly Assuming the net Is there We fall Much too fast Into despair Paycheck To paycheck A wing and a prayer We smile And laugh As long as it’s there Too small And powerless For a bail-out The poor Suffer through A trickle-down drought But I Who has much But not enough Seemingly secure With a full plate Life’s not too tough Yet fear Lurks beneath The surface The thin line Wraps my mind Like a graceless necklace Choking my emotions As I look down And see The reality While my children Still believe In me The membrane Between life and death Unknowing my fears In myself And life’s short breath As each day I exist For them For their future As adults So they can begin The cycle all over And walk The ice As I did Hoping they remember My advice To avoid the cracks And not look down And let fear Rule their minds Or their hearts Instead drawing near Strength From whatever source To live graciously Towards those Who fell Unmercifully Through the ice Beneath their feet And plunged Into the dark Cold Expunged From society’s Conscience And memory Losers With no redeeming Quality Except for in the minds Of those Who were taught To love To care In every thought Because Their father's fears Brought forth A simple message For a simple life And what was worth The worries Or the pride Or the mistrust In life In our leaders And the unjust Yes They will peer Through the ice And feel the beating heart Through the membrane And will hold no vice Against life Or themselves Or another Knowing the cracks Beneath their feet Are not solely reserved for their brother
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Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 7:21 PM UTC
Is The Ice Cracking?
The ice Beneath our feet Is very thin Our hearts Are covered By skin We assume The facade Will hold But the water Below the ice Is very cold And the distance Between life and death Is very slight The net Beneath our lives Is for black, brown and white Life Below the net Is death We walk Watching the cracks Measuring each step We fly Assuming the net Is there We fall Much too fast Into despair Paycheck To paycheck A wing and a prayer We smile And laugh As long as it’s there Too small And powerless For a bail-out The poor Suffer through A trickle-down drought But I Who has much But not enough Seemingly secure With a full plate Life’s not too tough Yet fear Lurks beneath The surface The thin line Wraps my mind Like a graceless necklace Choking my emotions As I look down And see The reality While my children Still believe In me The membrane Between life and death Unknowing my fears In myself And life’s short breath As each day I exist For them For their future As adults So they can begin The cycle all over And walk The ice As I did Hoping they remember My advice To avoid the cracks And not look down And let fear Rule their minds Or their hearts Instead drawing near Strength From whatever source To live graciously Towards those Who fell Unmercifully Through the ice Beneath their feet And plunged Into the dark Cold Expunged From society’s Conscience And memory Losers With no redeeming Quality Except for in the minds Of those Who were taught To love To care In every thought Because Their father's fears Brought forth A simple message For a simple life And what was worth The worries Or the pride Or the mistrust In life In our leaders And the unjust Yes They will peer Through the ice And feel the beating heart Through the membrane And will hold no vice Against life Or themselves Or another Knowing the cracks Beneath their feet Are not solely reserved for their brother
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132
A balcony underneath a blanket of stars, Any other night and it may have been beautiful. Fearing the unknown; not really knowing what it is I fear. Standing at the edge of a precipice- Wondering, waiting for fate’s hands to guide me over the edge, Or to drag me back into my blinded distrust Where soothing words smother uncertainties. Prepare yourself; a thousand questions to which there are no answers, Only a deathly silence, a blank face, unquestionable- There is a fine line between eternal slumber and death, And through the eyes of another I face both. In darkness, time unmercifully lengthens- in sleeplessness, I ask myself over and over and over, But the wind’s whispers are too quiet to hear. So many others relish the relief of the unknown, Alone I stand, able to see through their grimaces. Through self-indulged abandonment have I dug my own grave. I left you in his healing hands; judgment and doubts aside. Each marked stone bears the signature of your remembrance, To all of these days I have walked upon the earth. Convince me, tell me and take me away from this precipice- Back into your awaiting arms. 21.09.2010 Anna Elizabeth Rose ©
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Nov 28, 2010
Nov 28, 2010 at 10:47 AM UTC
You Can't Leave Me- Not Yet.
Sometimes when people can’t see you for whom you are, They try to force you to be someone you really aren’t. Real beauty is being true to oneself, Not by trying to be someone your not A flower cannot change its color nor can Spring become Fall. *Don’t lose the person you really are Because you are you and only you; The mold was broke when they formed your star Cheer up young one don’t be blue* I once knew a boy who always bought shoes two sizes larger, Because he couldn’t bare the ridicule of having small feet. You see, when you were conceived, genetically you became one of kind. There’s no else like you, and believe it or not we all have physical imperfections. *Don’t lose the person you really are Because you are you and only you; The mold was broke when they formed your star Cheer up young one don’t be blue* I once knew a boy who was thin as a stalk of corn, And he if turned sideways and stuck out his tongue, He looked like a zipper. He would get teased unmercifully, but if he had done just one think different, Because when you laugh at your own flaws, disparagement and criticism are defeated. *Don’t lose the person you really are Because you are you and only you; The mold was broke when they formed your star Cheer up young one don’t be blue* **Happiness doesn’t depend on any external conditions, it is governed by our mental attitude ~Dale Carnegie**
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Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 5:06 PM UTC
Life's Little Lessons - Part VI "Trying To Be Someone Your Not"
earlier when the sun woke me up I decided to take a morning shower in your endless despair I unfolded between the delicate creases that the storming waves had built up around you you caught me riding your wave and unmercifully, you thought you would drown me since I was drowning anyway choking on your salty sea water became my daily dose of ******* my comforting shelter as the ocean having unlimited power I kept on stumbling underneath your bleached layer of foam Now I am cleaner than a drug addict after ******* my spirit finally clearer than the ocean wind only weeds still tangled up in my toes
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Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 2:51 AM UTC
by the ocean
I can not see anything with the rain clouding up my window. Vague figures are moving out there so slow. I am waiting for you to come home. I know from town to town you have roamed. The sound of the rain thunders, irritating my ears. Will you ever make it home to me? I fear the storm is hampering you on your way. I hope the wind would drive it away. Hours pass me by and still you are not in sight. I start to feel so cold inside. As the rain is falling harder and unmercifully. And then, slowly but surely i begin to see it perfectly. I am running in a swirl of time. I feel so cold and empty. I find myself standing in the rain against the storm. Cold and stiff like an old aging tomb. Right before me i see you through the window... You are looking out with such a longing on your face, far away i hear a row. I am right here.... Can you not see me.... I shout out loud as i walk closer to your window. *Open the door... Let me in...* You keep staring at the storm... I know you can not see or hear me... I see tears running down your face... As you close the window and hide yourself out of my sight.... *I am here... Let me in...*
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Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 11:16 PM UTC
RAIN
I’m waiting on you And I'm being very patient To show you my love Is my only intent The hours and minutes Tick by unmercifully slow And my anticipation for your touch Just seems to grow and grow Unable to focus My thoughts are only of you As the hours pass into days My red heart fades to blue I yearn for you intensely As those days turn into weeks My life seems meaningless without you Your presence my soul now seeks Weeks have evolved into months And my sadness I can hardly bare I feel as though I’m fading Into the nothingness I now stare Desperation and heart ache Months now have become a year Losing you forever Was my deepest dark fear You left without reason With out even a warning Now in the stillness of this place I find myself mourning But today I stand at your grave And realize now it must be That you’re the one who now Is patiently waiting for me….
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Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 10:08 AM UTC
Waiting on you
I am like a leaky roof. I let tears pass through me wherever i go. My sorrow has not yet come to pass. I am still the same person as i was many years ago. You mutilated my body and you called it love. You ripped my heart out and put it on a burning stove. And then you ate it.....slowly... Excitedly... Unmercifully...
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Nov 23, 2010
Nov 23, 2010 at 9:25 PM UTC
Womanster
My Father built the house with his own hands. He loved all kinds of weather or season. He built it to span the gap between his heart and ours. He spent too much time fighting his country's enemies. He was raised by a man with a heart as cold as rain in autumn. He used to be a beautiful man who walked by the river every morning with his passion for life. But time has cut some marks on his very skin. My Father painted the house with his own hands. He loved all kinds of colour. He painted the house white to show his true feelings for us. Many's the time he ran down the road. Seeking for his own truth of life With his cold breath he showed me the true meaning of becoming a man. One frozen night,it was late. I couldn't sleep. I looked through the window. There was my Father. Standing under a Willow tree...naked and cold. He was staring into the vagueness of the night. Afraid,maybe. In his nakedness he looked so perfect. His sun-burnt skin emitting weak lights of his childhood memory. Wrong or forbidden,his naked body was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen. A naked body of a man whose heart could bear and hide his secret feelings for years. My body was shivering with curiousity and adoration. My Father... I wish i had been the wind that you're standing against. I wish i had been the cold rain that covered you unmercifully I wish i had been the ground that you're standing on. I wish i could have understood why and when... I wish i could have known you a lot better I wish i had read your heart as you had read mine.
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Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 9:41 AM UTC
My Father's Story (repost)
My Father built the house with his own hands. He loved all kinds of weather or season. He built it to span the gap between his heart and ours. He spent too much time fighting his country's enemies. He was raised by a man with a heart as cold as rain in autumn. He used to be a beautiful man who walked by the river every morning with his passion for life. But time has cut some marks on his very skin. My Father painted the house with his own hands. He loved all kinds of colour. He painted the house white to show his true feelings for us. Many's the time he ran down the road. Seeking for his own truth of life With his cold breath he showed me the true meaning of becoming a man. One frozen night,it was late. I couldn't sleep. I looked through the window. There was my Father. Standing under a Willow tree...naked and cold. He was staring into the vagueness of the night. Afraid,maybe. In his nakedness he looked so perfect. His sun-burnt skin emitting weak lights of his childhood memory. Wrong or forbidden,his naked body was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen. A naked body of a man whose heart could bear and hide his secret feelings for years. My body was shivering with curiousity and adoration. My Father... I wish i had been the wind that you're standing against. I wish i had been the cold rain that covered you unmercifully I wish i had been the ground that you're standing on. I wish i could have understood why and when... I wish i could have known you a lot better I wish i had read your heart as you had read mine.
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30
The morning sun slowly rises Above the great white mountain peaks. The cold wind blows unmercifully Through the vast deserted valleys The trees creek and moan Under the immense pressure of the wind As quick as the snow began It now ceases Lulling the landscape into a hushed silence The wind has died The falling snow no more The tranquil scene lay untouched In front of heaven's door How much longer will this tranquillity go undisturbed How much longer till nature awakens Soon in the distance A chick-a-dee is heard Then a roaring bobcat Nature is slowly unfolding Her graceful wings of life As the day passes And the sun climbs higher In the deep blue sky The snow begins to melt The brooks begin to bubble
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 7:58 PM UTC
A Winter Scene