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"unsavoury" poems
Amadou awakened with a start, it was Omar one of the guardians(security guards) of Yaldagou (the largest Hospital in the capital of Burkina Faso) knocking on the window of his taxi, Amadou had just settled down for the night after a long day in the heat and fumes that was Ouagadougou it was just after midnight on Sunday, he struggled to wake up rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Omar explained in Mori(local language), that there were two white people in need of his special service. After a quick explanation that someone had died in a private clinic nearby and the body needed to be transported to the morgue at Yaldagou,  he snapped out of his sleepiness and thought for a moment how much he could charge the rich white people, it was two days after Eid and as a strict Muslim he had been celebrating the holidays and now he had been offered an opportunity to supplement his taxi income, someone had to do it and it was an unsavory job and anyway on the few occasions he had done it, it had been lucrative, it might as well be him! Amadou thought to himself, if you had the misfortune to die in the day time there was a private service but in the night dignity went out the window and it was up to people like Amadou and a select bunch of taxi drivers with seats that could be configured to accommodate the corpses of the recently deceased to perform this service, so taxi 87 driven by Amadou would take this lady who had died from kidney and other ***** failures, after struggling for some days she eventually lost her battle and slipped into unconsciousness and finally died. Amadou finally settled on 10000 CFA(local currency) a fair price, after all the so-called professionals would charge 30000 CFA three times more and it was around Eid "Allah Akbar".   A quick "Thank you" to Omar for helping them and the two white people left with him for the short journey to the clinic, after the usual discussions the body was released and  transported to the morgue to join the other recently deceased waiting for burial in the morning, Amadou, rearranged the seating in his taxi after parking up in his favourite place under the trees of Yaldago it was just after one thirty, a good ninety mins work he thought to himself, yawned, and settled down to sleep a few more hours before dawn prayers. This was Africa and "someone had to do it" was his last thought.
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 7:26 PM UTC
An unsavoury job - "someone had to do it"
Amadou awakened with a start, it was Omar one of the guardians(security guards) of Yaldagou (the largest Hospital in the capital of Burkina Faso) knocking on the window of his taxi, Amadou had just settled down for the night after a long day in the heat and fumes that was Ouagadougou it was just after midnight on Sunday, he struggled to wake up rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Omar explained in Mori(local language), that there were two white people in need of his special service. After a quick explanation that someone had died in a private clinic nearby and the body needed to be transported to the morgue at Yaldagou,  he snapped out of his sleepiness and thought for a moment how much he could charge the rich white people, it was two days after Eid and as a strict Muslim he had been celebrating the holidays and now he had been offered an opportunity to supplement his taxi income, someone had to do it and it was an unsavory job and anyway on the few occasions he had done it, it had been lucrative, it might as well be him! Amadou thought to himself, if you had the misfortune to die in the day time there was a private service but in the night dignity went out the window and it was up to people like Amadou and a select bunch of taxi drivers with seats that could be configured to accommodate the corpses of the recently deceased to perform this service, so taxi 87 driven by Amadou would take this lady who had died from kidney and other ***** failures, after struggling for some days she eventually lost her battle and slipped into unconsciousness and finally died. Amadou finally settled on 10000 CFA(local currency) a fair price, after all the so-called professionals would charge 30000 CFA three times more and it was around Eid "Allah Akbar".   A quick "Thank you" to Omar for helping them and the two white people left with him for the short journey to the clinic, after the usual discussions the body was released and  transported to the morgue to join the other recently deceased waiting for burial in the morning, Amadou, rearranged the seating in his taxi after parking up in his favourite place under the trees of Yaldago it was just after one thirty, a good ninety mins work he thought to himself, yawned, and settled down to sleep a few more hours before dawn prayers. This was Africa and "someone had to do it" was his last thought.
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7
Hiding in toilet suites on hotel floors, above showers-for-two, and below countless stairs. Dodge large lobby hallways and the corridor artery, early-décor, maze, run past cleaner’s cupboards: potions for the unsavoury, unclean, another lost, single mother. A room service delivery to a door you don’t own, yet it keeps the unknown fears and doubts out. Flick and press that remote because long nights lead to hours of unrest, you’re tired of this hotel, you’re tired of their upper-class clientèle, you’re tired of that artificial smell, you’re tired.
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May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 7:50 AM UTC
HOTEL HOTEL HOTEL
Threatened curiosity rhymes better than I A panic attack infused with sinusitis Willesden digs clang its tentacles into blobbed concrete. Cringing as I walked by Anita scrawled her unsavoury - mercy. She could not endure a Son of a Publican on a weekend jolt, a hand washed duvet potested, pitch and putt compressed too many red lines crossed.
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Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 6:00 PM UTC
Beak regret
I've been called many things Unsavoury and unkind Words that strangle what little hope I've stored in myself What little light That's been left A flame so heavily guarded Yet barely burning I've been called many things Crazy Sometimes I crumble within myself Forgetting where I am Who I am Who I've been Who I could be Wishing I could just spotaneously Not be I've been called many things Emotionally draining How is it that I feel everything? And then nothing? Instantaneously I just want to feel again I just want to feel real I just want to remember that I'm more than these names These things These afterthoughts that For some reason You decided to impart on me I've been called many things Things I didn't want Things that aren't me Things that barely touch the idea of me Among these things These verbal illustrations of my personhood Disconnect Alienating and cold Misconstrued and yet so sharp Ambiguous yet so sure I have been called many things But never yours
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Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 9:06 PM UTC
February 13th, 2017
So many unanswered questions buried deep within They've been locked away to camouflage an unsavoury past The realisation of it all is a living nightmare The agony it brings unreal Why should anyone bear so much anguish When will this grind to a halt We all need a peace of mind Or else we'll just fall into pieces Why sit when you can stand Here is resolute compulsion for it A call to action My resolve is to trod on Never to falter Push on till the finish line No guts no glory
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Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 4:58 AM UTC
The resolve
Over breakfast, over tea, I can hear the scramble of electricity It crackles in the corner ceiling Giving me an uncomfortable feeling, Like the house might suddenly BLOW And they'll be nothing left to show, Because of this electricity. Then, when I was eyeing the roof My dad told me the unsavoury truth That cackling of electricity Is no longer such a mystery. The noise above, is wasps. The **** things are living there Even with the lack of air, They fly about, invisibly Their wings buzzing, not rhythmically, So our house is not about to blow And that at least, is a comfort to know.
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Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 12:34 PM UTC
Wasps
how likely am i, to be what i am then how likely you are to be but a scar I am Not A steryotype, i am archaic in my design, so fail me not in my attempts to justify myself but allow me to traverse the insantity of my delusion , delinquint similarities rattle us to the core, yes. but thou hast taken to devouring my being i know i prolong my suffering with intermitten relapses but my storm in a tea cup is just chaos incarnate, dont devour my soul , but take my heart, let me love you like only i know how in a fashion that only you shall recieve my dear you are not one of thousands, or hundreds or dozens akin you are only one, and one only for me dont despise my loss of time, or addiction to the unsavoury, but take me to a place i have not seen, to see a part of myself yet unseen you think i am disposed and discovered, traversed by all manner of explorers, not true, you are the first to try unravel how i have formed, geographic mountainscapes carved from a violent and reactive past can be cut down to feilds just pull me a part one pebble at a time
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 7:57 PM UTC
desposing of the past
I like to play myself Pretend that I'm evil Create a whole facade Cunning and lethal I like to pretend I'm somebody else A cold manipulative snake Armed with fatal venom Conjuring up much heartache I like to throw myself in harms way To achieve somebody else goal A weapon of mass destruction Its as if I have no soul I like to act as the fuel to hatred Target of their raging fury Vent and break me with all your might Tho I warn you the end is quite unsavoury I like to be the victim of the blame Go on and paint me as the villain Justify your actions controlled by pain That way it won't all be in vain I like to be the madman behind the mess The ***** Mastermind, The Monster Where sins of others pale in comparison Allowing them to feel far more arrogant let them be excused for their actions Which cause them such pains Allow them to rest at last Without those heavy chains By allowing them to believe That everything was truly my fault It allows them to sleep peacefully Securing their truths within a vault I like to take responsibility of their actions Pity them and follow them Become their true friend All while hating me to the bitter end They need support more then I So blame me instead Don't show me such sorrow filled eyes I would rather off be dead I like to play the villain To lighten their burdens of guilt I'm a mean selfish witch No different from a common ***** By taking pleasure out of such things That are so incredibly vile maybe I am the one who needs help every once in awhile ***Maybe I am truly evil Its not an act*** #
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Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 10:40 AM UTC
I like to pretend but maybe its not an act
I like to play myself Pretend that I'm evil Create a whole facade Cunning and lethal I like to pretend I'm somebody else A cold manipulative snake Armed with fatal venom Conjuring up much heartache I like to throw myself in harms way To achieve somebody else goal A weapon of mass destruction Its as if I have no soul I like to act as the fuel to hatred Target of their raging fury Vent and break me with all your might Tho I warn you the end is quite unsavoury I like to be the victim of the blame Go on and paint me as the villain Justify your actions controlled by pain That way it won't all be in vain I like to be the madman behind the mess The ***** Mastermind, The Monster Where sins of others pale in comparison Allowing them to feel far more arrogant let them be excused for their actions Which cause them such pains Allow them to rest at last Without those heavy chains By allowing them to believe That everything was truly my fault It allows them to sleep peacefully Securing their truths within a vault I like to take responsibility of their actions Pity them and follow them Become their true friend All while hating me to the bitter end They need support more then I So blame me instead Don't show me such sorrow filled eyes I would rather off be dead I like to play the villain To lighten their burdens of guilt I'm a mean selfish witch No different from a common ***** By taking pleasure out of such things That are so incredibly vile maybe I am the one who needs help every once in awhile ***Maybe I am truly evil Its not an act*** #
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51
I’ve reached the age when most of my contemporaries have kicked the bucket, turned up their toes, popped their clogs, and other such unsavoury activities. I take every opportunity to memorialise their lives. The question I ask myself is: when I finally pop my clogs, kick the bucket, and so on who will provide the tribute to me? De mortuis nil nisi bonum is the Latin phrase of Greek invention. Speak nothing but good of the dead. I cannot accept this. What good can I speak of Adolf ****** Osama Bin Laden or even Senator Joe McCarthy? Better would be De mortuis nil nisi veritas. Speak nothing but the truth. But, if I had to choose one for my own obituary, I think I would turn to the late, great Harold Laski, who coined De mortuis nil nisi bunkum. I’d be very happy to have nothing but claptrap talked about me. after my demise. At least let there be something written, be it good, truth or codswallop
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Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 3:34 PM UTC
De Mortuis
I felt the kiss of a girl She touched me She still is Yet she won’t last Nothing ever does Back to the minor artistrick spectrum role She believed and she made a believer out of me In the granjoke. “I must say i’m impressed with this stuff” Is the old semimental fluff You’d expect from a saucepan elect. I felt the kiss of the girl And the cold air biting at my earlobe I felt it. I felt it man. I didn’t just sense it. So anyway she pulls away My lips gainst hers Then not again. For the thousandth time. First time in ages. She clung but did not lock Her taste, i remembered well, Sweet and unsavoury Unique, repulsive She got me convulsive Submissive Allowable to the point of Control. Now I don’t complain to be no great Wordsmith of our time But when the fates align And forces combine She was there. Staring through her orange glow In a way, heck, wouldn’t you like to know.
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Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 11:42 PM UTC
Hi! How are you sensing? TYPE 2
I felt the kiss of a joint She touched me She still is Yet she won’t last Nothing ever does Back to the minor artistrick spectrum role She believed and she made a believer out of me In the ganjoke. “I must say i’m impressed with this stuff” Is the old semimental fluff You’d expect from a ****** elect. I felt the kiss of the joint And the cold air biting at my earlobe I felt it. I felt it man. I didn’t just sense it. So anyway she pulls away My lips gainst hers Then not again. For the thousandth time. First time in ages. She clung but did not lock Her taste, i remembered well, Sweet and unsavoury Unique, repulsive She got me convulsive Submissive Allowable to the point of Control. Now I don’t complain to be no great Wordsmith of our time But when the fates align And forces combine She was there. Staring through her orange glow In a way, heck, wouldn’t you like to know.
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Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
Hi! How are you sensing today? Type 1
You’ll want your God to close his eyes And forget he ever had a memory, When you hear what’s on my mind Sexually unsavoury. The darkest deepest dream To ever creep into a sleep, Peacefully obscene, That will wake a guilt so sad Relentless prayers on tap And each sincerely crafted Will seep into insignificance To bring tears from the devil’s heart. Every drop of adrenalin Will freeze and run no more, For the label on such a deadly sin Is ‘rotten to the core’ But why be afraid of your thoughts It’s hard to understand Or should forgiveness be sought.
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Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 1:56 PM UTC
Peacefully Obscene
At this point We broke up 11 times In a span of 8 months You take no blame No accountability I always be the one To lose a bit of myself Everytime I apologize And try to make things right Even you said it That the love gone Yet we always keep coming back Why Lord knows your low regard to my Pedestal I put you is crumbling Idk if I can remain loyal Personally I don't even care for you I know my self worth and I'm not To be used or to be looked down On by someone as lowly  as you. Sorry but I'm done with you Keep your ignore/block game true Show social media just how Unsavoury you truly are
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Jul 19, 2019
Jul 19, 2019 at 2:12 AM UTC
Familiar comfort
Oh sweet beauty Natures bloom Pastel shades to welcome the new Fewer nights of darkness Saying goodbye to the unsavoury few and feelings of blue. Take root and taking in the shine. Watered by entering spring. Energy spiking and bringing forward the joy.
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Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
Untitled
You acted as though I was playing with your emotions where emotions run thin Yet I can’t remember the last time I didn’t sit with a sore nose or bloodshot eyes The alcohol is helping me cope with life but life is getting in the way of the only positive substance They call it a bad road acting as if I’m walking ignoring the signs but the avenue I walk down just gives me signs of life without the signs of life Maybe I’m a fool to love or maybe I’m part of a generation that get their kick out of the flakes that fall from the nose that follows the scent of hope Living behind a screen where no one brings flowers but instead encrypt a ‘rest in peace’ to pretend they care in the moment yet only know you behind a name on a page that shows the drought of when you were forgotten I used to swim in the ocean but now I drown in low self esteem with no direction other than when the music fills the club where if you aren’t drinking then you find yourself intoxicated by a life that isn’t worth a second look so you try to write a book to show people the pain but it’s just capitalism for the unsavoury brain of a generation that wait on death and even then you can’t escape because you’re told to choose between good and evil and you haven’t necessarily been good or evil you’ve just been - well, you So you sit on your throne of lies and bring the polish with you to the gates so that you are no longer afraid when it gets to your time but be afraid of the time because the longer you live the more you die.
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Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 3:21 PM UTC
Memento Mori
You acted as though I was playing with your emotions where emotions run thin Yet I can’t remember the last time I didn’t sit with a sore nose or bloodshot eyes The alcohol is helping me cope with life but life is getting in the way of the only positive substance They call it a bad road acting as if I’m walking ignoring the signs but the avenue I walk down just gives me signs of life without the signs of life Maybe I’m a fool to love or maybe I’m part of a generation that get their kick out of the flakes that fall from the nose that follows the scent of hope Living behind a screen where no one brings flowers but instead encrypt a ‘rest in peace’ to pretend they care in the moment yet only know you behind a name on a page that shows the drought of when you were forgotten I used to swim in the ocean but now I drown in low self esteem with no direction other than when the music fills the club where if you aren’t drinking then you find yourself intoxicated by a life that isn’t worth a second look so you try to write a book to show people the pain but it’s just capitalism for the unsavoury brain of a generation that wait on death and even then you can’t escape because you’re told to choose between good and evil and you haven’t necessarily been good or evil you’ve just been - well, you So you sit on your throne of lies and bring the polish with you to the gates so that you are no longer afraid when it gets to your time but be afraid of the time because the longer you live the more you die.
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34
When a girl loses her hope, She becomes the most dangerous creature. Fairytales and happy endings Have lost their appeal. 'Mr Right' has been buried along with All the other prince charming's from her childhood story books. She visits him only in her dreams. Boys with smooth tongues and gripping fingers trail after her. Her bright smile and piercing glare Spell the words: "enter if you dare" She will laugh at all your jokes and burn your skin with her touch. And her hands, oh they're so soft and gentle, You don't even notice your arm is on fire. Cheap compliments spill out of your mouth one after the other And when she does not say thank you, But instead chuckles to herself You cannot help how enticed you are. Every word she utters is Daring you to come closer. You see the way she's looking at you, With those cumbersome doe-eyes And you think you know what She wants And you think you have what She needs And you could not be more wrong. She knows exactly the right witty remark to make, how to bat her lashes just right and how to laugh with just the right combination of coquettish and cute. Stupid boys always like to think they can save girls who in their minds are 'too adorable for their own good'. Stupid boys are always trying to make themselves gentlemen by simplifying a girl to being 'pretty'. The hopeful little darlings will swallow all of these unsavoury sentiments and store them in their naïve little hearts. But not this girl. Beware of the girl with no hope left. To her, this is a game that she cannot lose anymore. To her, you are nothing but a pawn; Replaceable Invaluable She is a luxuriant forest drenched in gasoline A beautiful disaster waiting to happen. She is so deceiving, so alluring, You simply must have a taste And you may. But take warning: She will light up in flames, devour your little boy soul and burn both of your bodies to the ******* ground.
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Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 4:09 PM UTC
Girl on fire
When a girl loses her hope, She becomes the most dangerous creature. Fairytales and happy endings Have lost their appeal. 'Mr Right' has been buried along with All the other prince charming's from her childhood story books. She visits him only in her dreams. Boys with smooth tongues and gripping fingers trail after her. Her bright smile and piercing glare Spell the words: "enter if you dare" She will laugh at all your jokes and burn your skin with her touch. And her hands, oh they're so soft and gentle, You don't even notice your arm is on fire. Cheap compliments spill out of your mouth one after the other And when she does not say thank you, But instead chuckles to herself You cannot help how enticed you are. Every word she utters is Daring you to come closer. You see the way she's looking at you, With those cumbersome doe-eyes And you think you know what She wants And you think you have what She needs And you could not be more wrong. She knows exactly the right witty remark to make, how to bat her lashes just right and how to laugh with just the right combination of coquettish and cute. Stupid boys always like to think they can save girls who in their minds are 'too adorable for their own good'. Stupid boys are always trying to make themselves gentlemen by simplifying a girl to being 'pretty'. The hopeful little darlings will swallow all of these unsavoury sentiments and store them in their naïve little hearts. But not this girl. Beware of the girl with no hope left. To her, this is a game that she cannot lose anymore. To her, you are nothing but a pawn; Replaceable Invaluable She is a luxuriant forest drenched in gasoline A beautiful disaster waiting to happen. She is so deceiving, so alluring, You simply must have a taste And you may. But take warning: She will light up in flames, devour your little boy soul and burn both of your bodies to the ******* ground.
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46
Radioactive dreams Got me bursting at the seams Life is strange as it seems Neon confusions Got me coming to conclusions I undress the illusions Love bombed lover You can be replaced with another Friends who ain’t friends We all meet unsavoury ends I’m a victim To a system We roll the dice, Loaded like guns, Against our luck And we stare down snake eyes As we tell ourselves some lies About our ******* luck Glitz and glamour Sugary ******* and diamonds Hundred-dollar bills Become hundred-dollar fines And hundred-dollar fines Become one-dollar bills They say don’t eat the rich Because one day you’ll cannibalise yourself There is an idea Called the American Dream And we’re just living in the fallout Of such contagious, radioactive dreams
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Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 12:00 AM UTC
101
Brexit me here The more I read about Brexit in mainly English papers I detect an unsavoury aspect that is a sense of (perhaps) an unconscious the feeling of superiority taking orders from foreigners; the so-called free press has been hammering away against EU rumours and blatant lies, this because of the “Free Press.” Is not free its leadership has an agenda that is to destroy the benefit an EU membership brings to Britain, and that is how 49% elected to leave by readers who believe what they read and vote contrary to what is best for them. But not the perfidious Albion has a hidden plan, they dream of a sovereign England ruling the world. It is a futile dream and not based on how the world is today. England( I exclude Britain) is a small island in the sea whatever greatness she achieved in the past is welcome but ultimately forgotten. The point is another nation could care less if England is in our they don't write about it skip the pages that have the name Brexit as an internal affair that is a bagatelle in the world.
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Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 4:09 AM UTC
Brexit me here
Enough of us We have been here for too long a time Growing fat and disregarding our crime We ignored our eviction notice Time has changed us, we have grown hopeless Our marks on the world have turned into scars So polluted, we can not see the stars With waters of black and islands of waste We brake things simply to get them replaced Our earth will grow tired of our naivety Listless in a way so unsavoury Our landlord will defenestrate us Too negligent, it’s too late to discuss We must pack our bags, the reason is clear, As our Earth has had enough of us here
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May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 10:11 PM UTC
Enough of us
You fenced your divine heart Against old principles I succumbed the reluctance Yet flown over fences Yet evaporated out of thin air Yet mitigated the wall With unsavoury remarks Yet..away from your fenced territory..
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Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 9:29 AM UTC
Fence..
pressures abound pain surrounds give me an out, i'll take it. elixir of gold cuts my throat soothing mind 'n nerves throws me a line, inflated float, bashes barriers perverse caressing wounded dignity suppresses unconscious malignity blinds me of untoward unsavoury umbilical cord i'm talking too loud - i know it, social more - i'll blow it! i know i'll regret this meanwhile, ignorance's bliss! so drink up while you can, your worries in trash-can, kiss your opponent and watch him go, live in the moment, go with the flow.
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Oct 21, 2021
Oct 21, 2021 at 4:31 AM UTC
Bottoms up!
My word is my bond, the politician lied, through milky white bleached teeth, a snarl springs to mind, a hyena I think Promises of nothing more than irreconcilable intricate initiations, integral, unsavoury, biased and deranged A set of broken scales line their halls of judicial justifications, pay to provide to elevate the highest order , the cruelest tongue Vile little creatures is how we are expressed when discussed in such high circles of zero morality and a gene sharing ethnicity So very aware and yet nonchalance of manner and the resilience towards the common being holds this rank and file far from the temper struck troops, As we can easily perish they can so easily cherish, embrace and rule a world scorched by their own heresy, a world void of love , empty of meaning I'll take my words, my ideas, my master plan , I'll not fall foul of life from a tin can If there is a destiny if there is a reason to define Then these politicians of premeditated symbolic systems Can understand that my thoughts for them are inert , And my time for them shall be there when the planets realign
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Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 6:21 AM UTC
he who lies, lies forever