"victimized" poems
*When a white woman is victimized they'll scour the streets, fan out, stop,
harass, detain, arrest any black man. Any one they can finger for the crime.
They say things such as they all look alike or something to that effect.*
*A black woman is abused they'll look around, see white males everywhere but they cannot find any suspects? None of them fit the description.
Why is that?
Yeah, that's right, it is because they all look alike! Too many of 'em. Can't arrest everyone now can we? People have rights!*
*Yep,
I suppose they do...*
*As long as you consider them,
"people,"
-they have rights.*
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 10:27 PM UTC
[Verse 1]
Monster sized swag; not modest bout my splendor
Marvel at the flag and I'm the ultimate avenger
Buck Rodgers, D-Bird yep I'm the number one contender,
So I gotta uphold this rep of bein uncontrollable
so I'll take the lead, I hold the world beneath my feet
I'm a fiend, elite
Haze so cloudy cause I be blowin Swisher Sweets
Drug addiction is my disease
It's my expertise
See here's the masterpiece:
Raps lobotomize
I'm traumatized since 1993
[Verse 2]
Victimized by the lies
of this trifilin enterprise
You can front but you can't hide
There's no fault behind your eyes
So I hope this insult will suffice
It should come as no surprise
A grin will spread across my face
From side to side
My ***** mouth will mesmerize
hypnotized, memorize
the words that escape my lips
I'm a degenerate unabridged uncut
You're a ************* ****
Go hang yourself from a bridge
Here's a rope, I hope you choke
******* ******* smoochie smoochie
Only chains you got is Gucci
Y’all basic brothers rep that set
But fake like that 2chi
[Verse 3]
man I get so high,
Now watch me get higher
Watch me take flight
As my wings soar skyward
You know I'ma fighter
So watch me take my place
As I eat this rap game up
and then spit it in your face
Now pass me a lighter
see me rollin while I bake
I mean I'm not a pastry maker,
but I still bake for the sake
My rhymes are so ill
They're gonna make you sick
I be tweetin on my twitter
While Betty Crocker ***** my **** uh
[Verse 4]
Reid between the lines son and please proceed with caution
Alien splittin kilos, I be one tweaked ****** martian
I'm five steps ahead and these haters ****** forfeit
You four feet tall and I'm so high I'm in ****** orbit
Make these snitches sleep with fishes
How ****** vicious spittin mischief
****** trippin out these hypocrites
Dishin out these disses which
Bein inconsiderate
in this fast paced game of chase
But if I wanted to catch your drama
I'd just go check my facebook page *****
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 3:30 AM UTC
Suffering
is the landscape
of life.
Hope is
the sustenance
of life.
To avoid suffering
is to avoid life.
Love yourself.
Love other's
even though
they don't
deserve it.
Be gentle
with yourself,
even when utterly
fatigued and
victimized.
Make you life
a poem that
you create
and hold it
close to your
heart.
The best
you can do
is all you can do.
~mce
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
*****
Abused.
Photographed in the ****
or even,
had a sextual comment told too.
Doesn't label you,
anything less than how you see you.
So stop **** shaming your victimized chicks,
who didn't seem to like you from your un puberized ****
No one asked for this ****
so do not blame them for it,**
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
A thousand nights ago, a little girl lay writhing in pain
As drops of saltwater soaked the crimson-stained sheets
Cries for help were silenced by the same ravishing hands that gripped her,as the man consumed her whole
Her light was fading out,her hands stretched out towards a silhouette
She was pleading,
She was praying
That the figure take a step forward,vanish the demon-man with her supposed light
But the woman in the shadows did nothing
She stood there cold as before
She did not flinch nor expressed anything in her distant eyes
She did not even claim the little girl after
She left her underneath the darkness as the little girl died a million deaths
It has been a long three years now and the little girl has grown
And she feels all wrong
Like she is too much
Like she is never enough
Because they took everything that she was
You have cursed her with the belief that she can only attain love and enlightenment through another
You have infected her with hate, now she craves the feel of the cold blade on her skin
Her lips have grown fond of the taste of the poison
And she constantly needs pain to numb the ache of emptiness
This is not like those other ******* apologies because she is tired of apologizing for existing
When you never apologized for the things that you allowed to happen
Nor is this her playing the victim card and blaming you
This exists to tell you that
She is sinking
The void is gaping
She is losing
And she is sorry for not being able to **** it up"
Because when little girls bleed,they cry
And what they need is a mother's caress to help heal the wounds
Because when little girls get victimized,they feel pain
And what they need is a mother to protect them and dry their tears
But you don't know that and she is sorry
She is sorry that you never lived up to your title
She is so ******* sorry
Mom
–W.
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 10:34 AM UTC
If my daughter ever comes to me
and asks me if I think she is pretty
I will say NO
You are so much more than pretty
you are beautiful
If my daughter ever comes to me
with tears stains on her face
telling me her heart's been broken
by the boy she thought was the one
even though she may only be 14, or 16, or 21
I will not ask who it was
I will simply hold her until the pain stops
whether it be minutes or hours
or even days
and buy her some chocolate, of course
If my daughter ever comes to me
and shows me the scars on her wrists
and her legs
and her sides
I will not look away horrified
I will simply show her
how a little bit of time
and a little bit of cream
can heal all wounds
even those of the heart
If my daughter ever comes to me
and shows me her sharp hip bones jutting out
and her soft ribcage peeking out
I will not call her crazy or any awful name
I will simply hold her soft enough
that her bones may not break
and walk her along the
all too familiar path to recovery
If my daughter ever comes to me
bleeding and bruised
because he didn't know
what no meant
I will not make her feel *****
I will not make her feel worthless
I will not ask why she didn't stop him
I will simply calm her victimized heart
and show her the many ways to ****
a man or a woman
if they ever touch her without her consent again
I will not judge her
for the many nights she may fall asleep crying
Instead I will prepare her a cup of tea,
buy her some inspirational movies,
write her some poems
and give her some books
Because I know broken souls
cannot be fixed over-night
I will let her buy dresses
that make her feel beautiful
and will not laugh at her
if she chooses to wear them with tennis shoes
I will let her stay home from school
every once in a while
even if I know she is faking it
because I know we all need a break sometimes
and I know that school isn't the only place
you can learn valuable life lessons
If my daughter ever comes to me
with a small child in her arms
one whom was not exactly planned
one whom has no father
I will step in and be that father
I will be her help
But most importantly
If my daughter EVER comes to me
and confesses her mental illness
I will not doubt her
I will not mock her
I will simply smile at her
and assure her she is not alone
and will get the means for help
For I never want her to know
what lonely tastes like
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 8:13 PM UTC
*
In the end
Life numbs YOU
Why are you pushing me away?
With this final masquerade
Given UP
In pieces
Crawling away
I am powerless
Bringing me One step closer
To Somewhere I belong
*With Heavy heart
What I've done?
LOVED YOU..!
I'm a paper-cut survivor
Let me bleed it out
Let me burn it down
I've no more sorrow
What's this new divide?
I'm Breaking the Habit of LIFE
Shadow of the Day elongating
I'm Waiting for the end
I remain the messenger of LOVE
Lying for YOU from life
Guilty all the same
From the inside
Let me crawl back in your life
In the castle of glass
Give a Place for my head
Otherwise I'll be gone
I'm out of time now
Traveling the roads untraveled
With black heart
I am rider of the storm
Living the Battle Symphony
Burning in the skies
So don't let down me
I'm victimized
So slow Ya roll
Let me hit the floor
Away from lies greed misery
See Inside me
In the end we made it
with YOU
I LOVE In the end
*********
Love can save our LIVES
*
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 12:57 AM UTC
Those you haven’t victimized fear you.
Mighty and dreadful you seem.
Little do they know, you only seize flesh and control the mind.
You seize not the soul.
Hence be not proud.
You’ve dwelled in me for many years.
Imprisoned me to anti-epileptic drugs.
You’ve dispirited me.
You attack, seize, and control my mind.
Your attacks are but brief.
Epilepsy be not proud.
For I fear not what rescind only flesh.
I fear what abolish both soul and flesh.
Proportional to gravitational force I fell.
I’ve always find the forte to rise.
Epilepsy be not proud.
For against all odds, I’m still alive.
https://m.facebook.com/EpilepsyandCpfriends
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 6:10 PM UTC
One day there was a bright glowing canvas, a pure sparkling white
It was beautiful, but not complete
Then someone came along and drew lines on it to form flowers and mountains and streams, it was more beautiful and it made the natural white look more distinct
Then one day someone else added color and the canvas radiated and became more and more complete, it seemed whole and functional
Suddenly, one day someone came along and slew the canvas, destroying its color till it showed black, and an ugly black
The canvas seems so drab so empty without its color, so lifeless
People refused to help the canvas, refused to anything about the canvas slayer refused to listen to the canvas’ plea
Instead the canvas slayer’s free to roam free to hurt and damage other canvas
Who will restore the canvas?
Who will bring justice?
Why is the canvas slayer free to roam while the canvas feels imprisoned, crushed, victimized?
Why is the canvas treated like a criminal?
When will the canvas feel free, joyful and peaceful?
THIS POEM IS DEDICATED TO VICTIM'S OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND OTHER FORMS OF ABUSE.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
Single
Exiled
Victimized
Empty
Nobody
Tired
Envious
Excluded
Nothing.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 6:30 PM UTC
It's mind control, mind control
Corruption of your thoughts, yeah
Destruction of your soul
Mind control, it's mind control
Corruption of your thoughts, yeah
Destruction of your soul
Don't let them mold your mind
They wanna control mankind
Seems like their only intention
Is to exploit the earth, yeah
And you trust in their deceit
Your mind causes your defeat
And so you become an invention
To distort this earth
Propaganda and lies
Is a plague in our lives
How much more victimized
Before we realize? Hey
It's mind control, mind control
Corruption of your thoughts, yeah
Destruction of your soul
Mind control, it's mind control
Corruption of your thoughts, yeah
Destruction of your soul
Ooh, Grandmaster
Let the people go
You put them in total confusion
To downs-troy their soul
For they practice what You preach
So they're always in Your reach
Hi-tech slavery in these days
It's mind control
They'll make it attractive to get man distracted
Corrupting your soul, polluting your soul
Destroying your soul, mind control
Mind control
Corruption of your thoughts, yeah
Destruction of your soul
Mind control, it's mind control
Corruption of your thoughts, yeah
Destruction of your soul
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Come on and get it together, brother man
What, what you say?
It's mind control, mind control
Corruption of your thoughts
Yeah, yeah, destruction of your soul
Mind control, it's mind control
Corruption of your thoughts, yeah
Destruction of your soul
(The truth is there for us to see)
It's mind control
Corruption of your thoughts, yeah
Destruction of your soul
(The truth is there for us to see)
It's mind control
Corruption of your thoughts, yeah
Destruction of your soul
(The truth is there for us to see, the truth is there for us to see)
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 2:06 PM UTC
Fever-flushed children and
Broken bodies
Litter hospital halls like so much
Human refuse
….Wondering why
their need for care is treated so tepidly by a
Society which worships
Profits
Power and
Prestige
….Waiting while
they wallow in anguish as
Privacy
Paperwork and
Payment are
Debated by bureaucrats in cubicles
….Wanting to be refreshed and
restored to some measure of usefulness
….But
Free to Pursue Life on their terms in exchange for
Silence
Acceptance and
Despair
Huddling for warmth and in
Fear of discovery
they assemble in rag-tag formation
having scaled formidable fences
Seeking freedom from
Poverty and oppression
Searching for work of any sort
….No matter how
Humiliating or
Hard
….No matter the
Cost or
Conditions
Disparaged and despised they labor
in hope that their children will have a chance for success
instead of suffering a similar fate
…..But
Free to Pursue Liberty
in a land where their presence is
Ignored if not Denied
Unkempt in camouflage
One-legged and
Vacant-eyed
he rolls his rickety wheelchair along grassy median with muted effort
displaying cardboard sign
childishly scripted
in one weather-worn and gnarled hand
while clutching a decapitated jug in the other
Forgotten
Forlorn, and
Discarded veteran
Victimized far more by country than foe
….But
Free to Pursue Happiness while
Begging on street corners as
Upright citizens dispense
Unwelcome opinions or
Pocket change with equal
Self-righteousness
Life
Liberty and the
Pursuit of happiness….
Ideals that slowly incinerate on the
Altar of Capitalism
….Songs forever lost in the
Cacophony now
Played on the
Instrument of Politics
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 7:17 PM UTC
She leaves a trail of broken heart
in her wake.
Like the River Styx, but
very much alive.
On the outside,
one would look at her and say
she's a faerie nymph
flighty, giddy and naive.
She treats boys like playthings-
they would say,
draw them to her and spit them out
her pixie pranks bereft of benevolence.
They are Theseus and Leucippus
heroes victimized by false love
they say,
the underdogs.
She is to blame.
On the inside, however,
it's a different story.
They fixate on her,
fall in love without consulting her first.
To them,
consent is an idea
and an abstract any-thing.
Something to be taken lightly or disregarded
You see,
consent is more than a verbal yes
and consent is more than ****** thing.
Consent is communicating your intent
before acting on it
and getting permission.
So it should be the same with falling in love.
No one owes anyone anything.
Best friend, dark loner type, new boy/girl in your life,
consider this before you vilify someone
for what they don't feel.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 10:54 PM UTC
Poetry.
A form of catharsis used to
Subtly touch
Violently choke
Mentally ****
Words that cut so deep making the heartless feel
Words screaming with emotions leaving you paralyzed
Words gracefully gliding down the side of your cheek forcing you to smile
Captured in whatever trap the poet wants you in; victimized
Feeding into every word of the poet so easily
Thriving off the beauty that is poetry
Until you’re shouting
Take me!
The art of poetry now flows thorough my body
Becoming intertwined in their words
I absolutely LOVE poetry
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
One day there was a bright glowing canvas, a pure sparkling white
It was beautiful, but not complete
Then someone came along and drew lines on it to form flowers and mountains and streams, it was more beautiful and it made the natural white look more distinct
Then one day someone else added color and the canvas radiated and became more and more complete, it seemed whole and functional
Suddenly, one day someone came along and slew the canvas, destroying its color till it showed black, and an ugly black
The canvas seems so drab so empty without its color, so lifeless
People refused to help the canvas, refused to anything about the canvas slayer refused to listen to the canvas’ plea
Instead the canvas slayer’s free to roam free to hurt and damage other canvas
Who will restore the canvas?
Who will bring justice?
Why is the canvas slayer free to roam while the canvas feels imprisoned, crushed, victimized?
Why is the canvas treated like a criminal?
When will the canvas feel free, joyful and peaceful?
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
Perception is a sickness we conceive.
Letting people control our reactions.
Changing our level of satisfaction.
There is choices in every emotion we produce.
Being offended is a feeling we have comitted.
What you say or do has no effect on my rationality.
Unless, I let your insecurities influence how I carry my body.
Addressing our contaminations helps open our eyes.
No longer being victimized by the lies others drown us in.
We can make the decision to keep opposition or let it roll down like rain.
Having positivity in all is an unlikely belief.
However doesn't mean it can not be studied.
Self control, dedication and confidence is the mixture you need.
Do not wallow in self inflicted misery.
All it takes is you to make a change.
There is no other reasoning it really is simplicity.
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 6:38 PM UTC
In the solace
Drifting transient
Before the dawn
Quiet light
Scattered sentient thoughts
Dreams lift on gossamer wings
Effervesce on heady winds
Like milkweed fluff on a summer day
From the narrow path
I stray
Lost in thoughts
Consuming
Stones thrown from distant shores
Placid surface
Fractured
This undertow defines my mind
Spinning evidence of chaos
Purpose slips away
From the narrow path
I stray
Fogbound vessel
Aimless deadwood
On a restless sea
Storm tossed
Lost and anchorless
Victimized by riptides and eddies
Uncharted course each sunless day
From the narrow path
I stray
TL Boehm 040508
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 5:07 PM UTC
I don't like to celebrate my birthday
I don't celebrate my birthday.
What is there to celebrate?
My existence is stained in accident and I don't need to be given purpose in rubber balloons, and paper streamers, and cheap wax candles.
My birthday feels like a date that's begging and pleading for someone to acknowledge that I'm alive, and I don't want to have to pretend to be.
I don't want to be thankful for stupid gifts that are brought on by obligation and I don't want to smile when I hear "happy birthday" come off your lips. I'm not happy.
My birth is just a day. A mistaken date, an accidental date, a victimized date that had to bear my name being attached to it like I'm of some significance to the calendar. Like I'm of some significance to time.
Time that will also be one more year closer to death which is just as unbearable because it's confirmation of my accidental, mistaken, existence. It's the stamp that says "she shouldn't have been breathing in the first place". Don't date my tombstone.
Its uncomfortable for me to celebrate my birthday.
I'm not trying to be depressing, or pitiful, or too "deep" about things BUT this is just a fact. A statement. An acceptance in my life. A way things are kind of feeling. Permanent.
So don't tell me I'm thinking about it all wrong and to be more positive. That people love me and are happy I'm alive and want me to know that. That's a bunch of ******** If you loved my existence you wouldn't need to express that to me in chocolate icing, and blow horns, and confetti bits. I'm not pitiful. Birthdays are just a pitiful excuse for you to make my existence more about living for you. A debt for your "kindness" at throwing me a party. A debt for your "thoughtfulness" because of that expensive gift you bought with me in mind. A debt for your "love".
That's what I mean when I say simply, " I don't want to be 19".
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
Today you said you'd always love me.
And you didn't ask for my naked *******
or my submissive body beneath silk sheets.
You didn't even ask for my loyalty.
It's hard to believe the tragedies that
we've brought to life before this moment.
I've always wanted a relationship to be dangerous.
Call it my penchant for self-harm, or my need to feel victimized,
but I crave love a that could burn down towns, destroy lives.
Passion isn't safe, it takes causalities.
People spend so much time balancing,
looking at their feet and trying not to fall.
We are brought up to believe that pain
should be avoided at all costs,
but what if your happiness lies
just beyond the thorn bush?
I won't claim to be fearless.
It seems that I am constantly caught
between apprehension and regret.
My indecision is a wall
that very few would dare to scale,
but your words are building me a harness.
The other side is surely filled with storms.
Treacherous animals that would seek to tear me limb from limb.
There may be *** holes and misleading signs,
long stretches of greedy quick sand.
But, then again,
no one remembers journeys
that were effortless.
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 12:01 PM UTC
are like some people,
they are victimized to death
within one's palm
they're taken down and thrown
they had power
but no more
human eyes show pity
for picking them,
but not humanity
pressed flowers are they
who sleep under the tents,
walking for decades,
searching for new hope
cause it's crumbled back home.
Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 11:24 AM UTC
I garden naked
When one does not comprehend the places you've been,
Ignorant they name your path
Twisted facade, let's fornicate the law
Switch our curfew
Night is dark
Deep cryptic essence
Let no man take the massive ego, hiding in your stilettos
The ridge of the heel crushing the victimized windpipe
Polish and clean
Sparkling
Almost brand new
Steady, walk in progress
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 5:56 PM UTC
Assaulted once again,
Betrayed by the ones she loved,
Consumed with utter sadness,
Dehumanized in every way.
Embarrassed by what they made her do,
Fearful that there's more to come,
Heartbroken and humiliated,
Inadequate in all she does.
****** around with such great force,
Kept quiet with threats of death,
Laughed at as she cries in pain,
Mistreated and manipulated
One broken heart left on display.
Pain they left within their wake,
Robbed of all her happiness,
Scared to trust again.
Trapped within their shadow,
Uncertain of my fate,
Victimized for the final time,
Worthless mindset overcome.
X'd out all the lies you told me,
Yearning for all that I deserve,
Zeroed out of my heart forever, as I take my final stand and finally leave today.
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 12:39 AM UTC
I used to carry my flaws
on my shoulders,
heavy and hefty
with my strained back
and bent knees.
I tripped sometimes,
on the thorny ground
pricked my body, my soul
I used to taste my flaws
on my tongue
and spilled them on my lips.
Sip after sip I craved for death.
I choked on how foul they were.
I used to conceal my flaws
behind a million masks
for they were ugly and horrific.
I hid them beneath my skin
letting insanity creep along.
I with all my flaws
stood alone in dark.
There, I knew were fingers
which victimized them
for all the vile around-
Victimized my flaws for all the vile around?
Oh, came the decisive moment;
I wore off all the masks
and put on my flaws with pride.
I nourished them well and carried around.
I gulped them down every day.
Now that I will trip,
my flaws will help me up.
Now that I am bruised,
my flaws will help me heal.
Now that I am alone
my flaws will accompany me to eternity.
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 8:49 AM UTC
As I remember her now
It seems so long ago
We were both so **** young
How could I know
That she was the beast
Yet she was beauty too
Cast her black spell
What the **** could I do?
She brought me out of the rain
Made me her brand new toy
Tryin to **** off her dad
With her ****** boy
I'm not sure what she saw
When she was lookin at me
Whatever it was
Was just fantasy
I was real and broken
On the edge and alone
She was lookin for trouble
That's how I was known
She was bored with her life
I was scared of my own
Tryin to clean up
On that red methadone
She kept me in wine
She kept me in dope
She let me inside
Filled my problems with hope
Then she begged for my flaws
I finally caved in
We were playing a game
That I knew you cant win
Right then our sun set
Nevermore to return
Just the sparkle and fade
Of the needles cold burn
By the time that she saw
This game was her life
There was no road back home
The truth cut like a knife
Which she then pulled on me
As the pain became real
Now she needed the drugs
Or thats all she could feel
She needed me too
Like 'dope man' needs a gun
So she crippled my will
To make sure I don't run
She tortured my heart
Cuz she'd cut out her own
Still she didn't want me
Just to be not alone
Stockholm syndrome ain't love
But the poison was strong
We were both so **** scared
Held hostage too long
Now I wish I could say
That the moral is clear
I only feel mad
I believed my own fear
Learned a lot about life
What not to do
Never thought I would live
Somehow made it through
It takes two to dance
Two to give a lie power
Two to make a heart break
Two to turn a love sour
I want to believe
Our intentions were pure
The world drenched in filth
Victimized me and her
Regrets pile up
Resentment runs deep
While I look back and wish
Your heart I could keep
Mines tattered and torn
I know yours is too
Sometimes when I can't sleep
I still think about you
Cast blame all you want
It may even be true
But please stop hating me
Forgive yourself too.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 12:00 AM UTC
This inconsistency that rumbles
Churning within the recesses of my ribs
I down a pill of self pity with a swig of pride
And tell the pain to go away
Tell myself it was never there
That I'm fine I'm good smooth it over
Put a baggy shirt on so you can't see
The holes behind the recesses of my ribs
Loving you is easy in theory
And most of the time in reality too
But sometimes when you ask me to do that little task or tell you that little thing
Something within me threatens to snap
Because I perceive that you see the satisfaction of your need to be more important than my current occupation
And I feel unseen
Even though I know you see me best
And I feel victimized even though I know your request is perfectly reasonable
And so the contradiction of awareness
When I see the inconsistency in me blaring crimson red and midnight blue
And I don't know what to do with these colors
I don't know what image to paint or what brush to use
I don't even know who I'd give the painting to
Or if I'd keep it for myself
Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 9:00 AM UTC