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2 naughty teenagers captured in the psych ward


all people who do crimes are mental, at least that is what ron thought as

he watched the news and saw 2 teenagers push a train seat onto the traffic

under the bridge and ron thought that he would like to place them on medication

so they can be punished for what they did, so when ron woke up, ron went to the

cafe to say his piece about the teenagers who pushed the seat out the window,

and after he left, he felt better but it soon went away as he arrived at the HDU and

the group of teenagers were on their way to his HDU, and ron said, yeah they need

medication but they will be a hard case, because they probably believe what they were doing

was the right thing to do, but the nurses said, no they are on their way here and we are going

to give them all the help they need and ron said, we will try to give those trouble makers the

help they need, because the medication won’t work if they don’t want it, and believe me it needs

to work, they must learn what they did was wrong.   ron went out to give the morning medications

and the teenagers entered the HDU as ron was finished and ron said i am going to talk with these yahoos

so can you bring this back, and when ron approached them he said, ok, you guys think you did the right thing

by pushing that seat outside the train door onto incoming traffic, and john who was the ring leader said yeah

it was what this city needs, and then ken who videoed it said, that was the most fun he ever had and ron said

well, if that was the most fun you had, you area very sick individual and we need to have a chat on why you

think that it is cool to do that, john said, my dad doesn’t care for me and he loves the railways, perhaps he loves

the railways more than me, so i wanted to spoil his precious railways and ron said, i am sure your father loves you

but it’s hard to love you when you do a stupid thing like this, you could’ve caused an accident and killed many people

and john said, who cares, and ron said, yeah you are sick if you think taking out your aggressions on those poor drivers

and ken said, you haven’t met his father, all he cares about is his trips on the railways than him, he once yelled at john

for accidentally spilling the milk and i was there to see it, but ron said but is what you did hurting your father, well maybe but

you could’ve killed many people who were driving and john said ******* fucken ****, you are supposed to make me better

but instead you point out that i was in the wrong, and then john said, you know nothing about us, we are not mental, we are real

men dealing with stupid parents and ron said, ok i can’t keep you on the medication but while yopu guys are here you are taking

medication and ken said, cool, we are finally taking drugs, and then ken said how about you guys give me ****** or mariguana, that

will make us good little angels and ron said nice try, i will place you on seroquel, which really will open your brain and make me understand

why you kids would do such a horrible crime, and then ron asked john, have you seen the macauley culkin flick, the good son, well you

yahoos are just like him, maybe worst because it’s the real world and john said, are we just, well just for that we won’t take your ******

medication, and we will make it harder for you are your nurses as well as any other patient who gets in our way and we will tip the water over you

when you bring out our medications, because what we did was fun, and we ain’t mental, there is nothing wrong with us and ron said, well guys, if

you don’t take the medication, you won’t get better and be released from here, and ken said, we will escape from here, you see we will grab the

keys from a nurse or yourself, and then pick up a sharp object, and you screws will never see us cool dudes again, and ron said, do you guys really

think this was cool, you could’ve killed somebody and ron went away and told the nurses, to have a security guard with them when you go into the HDU

and keep no sharp objects in their way because these yahoos need to understand what they did.     john and ken went to watch TV  and charlie chaplin was

watching cheers and ken said i want to watch ben 10 and charlie said, no, cheers is better and ken said, listen you fucken ******, get out of here so we can watch

ben 10 and charlie said ******* you fucken yahoos, i was here first and john walked over to him and picked him up and said, hey ******, are you going to move

or are we going to kick you out you old fogie life loving ****** and ron came out with a security guard saying, you guys aren’t the boss here and ron brought

ken and john to their rooms and locked them in saying, you don’t get to watch your show boo hoo and john and ken yelled out help help kidnap kidnap

help help kidnap kidnap but ron took no notice of them and went back to get the medications, for everyone even for john and ken despite them not wanting it

but both john and ken took the medication but declared they ain’t mental but they want to be free, and once we get free, we will stop taking the medication

because they ain’t crazy, they just wanted to get out of the ***** loving HDU and ken said to ron, don’t ever talk to us ok, we ain’t talking to no screws, you might

be helping the other patients but you can’t help us, so we will make you happy to take your happy drug, and be goodie two shoe so we can be free and ron

gave them the medication and went to his office and clocked off and bought pizza and retired to the couch while john and ken practiced being good despite wanting

to call charlie chaplin and patty roe retards but they bit their tongue, john and ken aren’t unhappy for what they did, they still thought it was cool but to be free to

do it again was what they were thinking of and that was what ron was worried about and that messed with ron’s brain making him say i am here to help but john and ken

were just bad people and can’t be cured, ron thought maybe jail might be better for them, oh well we have to give them a chance, they are only young
in a stand
your ground
open carry
libertarian
paradise

Miami Gardens,
the capitol of
stop and frisk
looms as the
shape of things
to come

it doesn't
happen
all at once

it stealthily
creeps into
once wholesome
homesteads

it arrives
emaciated
always starved
for more

stark stiletto eyes
suspiciously stare
piercing
confused
frowns
worn by
flummoxed
citizens
unable to
gaze away the
maleficent days

seemingly
beginning in
innocuous
ways

they
build walls
to keep
"the other"
out

firming
conformity
to the ways
within

deep
foundations
of rigid status
quo pillars
sacrosanct

differentiation
verboten

diversity breeds
suspicion

conversations
eavesdropped

big data ears
ever listening
to between
the lines words

small talk
meta data
indexed and
algoed

down beat
utterances
classified
state secrets

certain books
are forbidden

artists condemned
art destroyed

ideas censored
shut down by
corporate
governance
social network
posting rules
and best practice
marketing
metrics

dissent
shouted down
by xenophobic
#ammosexual
group think
yahoos

in blind allegiance
to commands
of Citizen Inc
politicians
enable
a juggernaut
to roll across
the globe
fracking
to bits
anything
obstructing
its path

science is
false

history
suspicious

revisionism erases
biographical memory
we forgot how
we arrived
at this place

The History Channel
flickers cartoons
of multicolored
allegories onto
the dark walls
of our video
addicted minds
offering sweet
relief of a new
commercial fix

pandered opinion
is trafficked
as fact

inculcating
confirmation of a
stasis affirming
echo chamber

real time news
rubber stamps
the prevailing
zeitgeist of
the daily dread
a visceral
confirmation
of the World
Series Hunger
Games

communities
compel
residents
to swear
allegiance
to tribal creeds
that debase
humanity

religious precepts
shutters spirituality
with sanctioned
indoctrination
designed to
undermine an
ability to reason

ethical discernment
is arrested by moral
bifurcation

the marginalized
are criminalized

land of
the free prisons
promoted
as growth
industries
auction off
bill of rights
on low bid
altars of
profitability

a perpetual
state of warfare
marshals frenzied
legions of fear

as casualties
mount the
march of
militarization is
the only known balm
to salve the terror
welling deep within
afflicted hearts

the sun rises
on another day
in Miami Gardens
as the next shift
of police roll
through this
kingdom
of perps

Music Selection;
Dizzy Gillespie
Things to Come

6/5/14
Oakland
jbm


Miami Gardens;
Capitol of Stop and Frisk
http://www.ebony.com/black-listed/news-views/miami-gardens-the-stop-and-frisk-capital-of-the-country-981#axzz33mbFDN6P
Robin Carretti Feb 2019
The London*
underground
Shoes Chatterbox
Choo Choo train
Mr. Earl Gray
Greyhound
Doing cartwheels
Head over heels

Milk the Cow
"Going Moo" in her
Jimmy Choo
Yahoos
Kickapoos
The Odd Mom
Cocker Doddle Doo
Goody Two shoes
'Peekapoo"

The women living
in her shoes
All Mighty God
  
The dog to chew
Her most expensive
shoe
Lasous
The genius
La Cruz

Goody two shoes
That's show biz
Vacation Dr. Seuss
John Hughes
The master of clues
La mousse
Love truce X-File

Instagram, please smile
In her ballet slippers
He's at the Hub
drinking beer
In the London Fog
Her wooden clogs

Ladybird chirper
He's down to his
goulashes?

Got sidetrack hot
fever lovesick
La muse shoes
Cozy at the caboose
Playing golf in the
Gulf of Mexico

You ain't got a thing
if you don't have
the shoes to swing
Kick up your shoes and
start to sing
This is a comedy of all Goodie two shoes tied into one find you we all own a pair of shoes and have some fun
all of
America’s
gubmint hatin
yahoos, pining
to get their
country back,
should grab
yer rifles, stock
up on ammo
and giddy up
down  to Texas
to join the
secessionists
headin out
of the Union

Rick Perry
promises to
keep his promise
to close all the
gubmint departments
he can't remember
the names of

Ron Paul will
finally be liberated
from the tyranny
of his federal
paycheck and
can return to
his district to
practice medicine
unencumbered
by the acceptance
of medicare
payments

Ted Cruz will
move to coronate
his Cuban born
daddy as Viceroy
for life of the
western hemispheres
newest banana
republic

the last act of
of the Compartment
of Education will be
to turn every
public school
into a Holy Ghostin
Jehovah meetin
house

Judicial magistrates
will criminalize
poor people
or just make
them slaves
and all prisons
will be turned
into profit driven
plantations,
overseen by
the local
Sheriffs who
will be paid
time and a
half and 15%
of all profits

unfortunately
the Cowboy’s
will lose it’s
moniker as
America’s Team
if rattlesnake
booted
Jerry Jones
can’t make a
deal to turn
his stadium
into a sovereign
independent
territory as a
protectorate
of the USA

To assure
national purity
Texans will
build a Jericho
style wall to
define the boundaries
of their heavenly
kingdom and outlaw
all trumpet playing
within earshot
of their perturbed
borders

The Eyes of
Texas as the
state anthem
will need to
be reworded
The final stanza
will be changed
to "Until Gabriel
blows his nose"

keepin the ungodly
out and the chosen
people safely
insulated within
the shining
Lone Star State
will rise again
as a solitary
confederacy
of dunces

Music Selection:
The Eyes of Texas

Oakland
11/18/13
jbm
11/19/13 marks the 150th anniversary of Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address... to hold the article of freedom in such disdain sickens me...
kjforce Apr 2017
I've been there for you since the first...
With sustenance you offer that quenches my thirst...
Although , we are so different in many ways...
I look forward to your visits, on hot or cold days..
I never know when you are coming, my dear...
But certainly relish when you are here...
We've been doing our thing for a few years now...
There are no suspicions and yet somehow...
With all the technology , and environmental issues...
It would be our luck that , TV reality yahoos...
Would discover our secret of which we share...
Of ridding  the world, of abuse and despair...
So victims can move forward and not have to fear...
Consequences and options...are made very clear...
So with this in mind, I think we should wait a bit more...
On the opening of another “ Gator  Bait “ store....

copyrighted 2012
kjforce
having a olan is half the battle..doing it is the FINALE...
TMReed Oct 2019
Chew me, will you?
Chew me, won't you?
Wedge me 'tween two
wine-stained yahoos.
Soak my core through
scaly beast, You!

Look at me.

I've become so theatrical, lying here, drowning in oddments and drool. How long now have I rotted in the eves I've missed, ****** away paths and pavements creeping like mold over my timber skin.

To think, I could have been a Great American Novel, a Wonder, a Classic. My torso might have melted the hearts of millions, the fingers of my web might have crawled carefully down their backs, spinning - oh so suddenly - a twist into their spines, while they themselves press loving, thrilling craters into mine.

I might have swept up her posthumous time machine and his mad spiral from the clouds in the booming wood and brass of one tender-fingered soldier's Trojan triumph over death and his countrymen.

But here I am, a Janitor, an Afterthought. Sweating in my splintered coat, stabbing at wet hunks of lamb that shamelessly remind me of how Wasteful I am.
Aspirations grow even between your teeth.
Ksjpari Aug 2017
A delicate, gentle, subtle line
Between love and anger mine
Is capable of making me bovine.
Though, we human, better than kine
Keep Anger without any deadline;
Swank like proud, angry feline
To clutch and hurt anyone divine.
Are we not better than equine
Of Swift? Or different by hairline
From Yahoos of Jonathan’s line?
Leave anger, be a Guideline.
Be happy and brightly shine
Over the mast or sea at nine.
Sea: big, vast  – though – brine,
No use for us, can’t replace vine.
Hence leave anger and whine
Like a free butterfly divine.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
longer than i could remember, this king (who still rules) invited excited spenders.

once drawbridge got let down, the floodgates of humanity poured into the city to snap up bargains.
  
no sooner than vendors set out merchandise, a swarm of fingers grabbed goodies.

wallets bulged with wads of cash itching to be spent by buyers swept up via mania.

like an organic being, a pandemonium prevailed infecting shoppers with feverish frenzy to stock bags with paraphernalia.

atop high perch, matthew felt ecstatic at what appeared as one swollen black shifting grounded cloud that swallowed shelves of wares.

Where can my family receive a little boost er shot of cash? just a small *** (about $1000.00) would be a welcome respite from my bankrupt account. 
-------------------------------------------------------­--

u fill in the expletive colorful bleep
per that i yam not a lurch ching Munster creep
juiced a harmless troll bait rent asunder tabula rasa
boot angst of penury doth penny tr8 real deep

dark cyber sea inundated with other earth-linked yahoos
lying amongst in a ur i ah heap
since bin ages since oye goot a peep
***** riotously footing ogling wealth to reap

wool lee ya be generous
fur shear lee Yukon give me legal tender
   ta help me sleep
oft times unable to suppress
   the unstoppable force to weep.
---------------------------------------------------------
P­OST SCRIPT NUMBER 891212:

hashed out about 123456789 hours ago
when i felt the bottom fell out - per no dough
helplessness ringing clangorously - no where 2 go
except...where many a G. I.

(which initials
  by the way mean galvanized iron) joe
so i rage against penurious
   dime men shuns of no mo'
- nope not even a red cent -

   filthy lucre, thus find ma self a po'
papa pressed withiN perdition of poverty,
where psyche under a ******>slash burn - argh - only i can rid this monetary
   impotence akin to TiVo
clearing application
   to blitz krieg commercials - thus woe....

angst begot from money woes.
ah...the glorious thought,
   whence never again
to cull demise and forever hibernate

feeling crushed by the egregious atrocious,
heinous, and nemesis, poor ring in of late
and thus this obituary epitaph of sorts
(no matter,
   he will opt for cremation) finds frenzied
strychnine, poison

   or hemlock appear savory to this pate
a chance pair of perusing eyes
may find this blurb unable 2 eke quate
this plea sprung

   from plethora of purse son hull wreck - i rate
anxiety sweeps across me
   mental nada so healthy state
which panic wrought from poverty
per prone nouns mints

   uber viz zit with undertaker tete a tete
of decades long bout with a psyche riddled
angst sh...us lee
   waiting for Godot - Becket ting

this papa, who **** courting escape from posse aye
misty eyed in midst of his own financial catastrophe
he loathes resorting to pan handling to help him get free
of pauperism, which haint no joke,

   and would find a scabrous reply
ample reason to still his life,
   though ma lovely daughters  
suffered psychic injury
and forever be psychologically marred

   if aye did merrily
row me figurative boat over the abyss prithee
and hope for instant death of mine aura,
charisma, and karma see?

tis probably pointless n frivolous
to expect presume salvation 4 this mw male
yet nothing ventured....
could do no worse as my psyche doth quail
for being nearly penniless

   (in this cornucopia of plenti), and rail
ling against fate may bring derision
   per an unpredictable scale
argh - doth hardly shed light
   on my penurious travail

cuz thy current checking account gasps
with a death rattle does wail...
boot juiced....maybe lady luck shall draw
the gaze of one philanthropic facebook peeper
(at least enough largesse

   to stave off self destruction of spouse)
welcome mat would willingly
   be laid out for grim reaper
to whisk me away -
  so i kin become an eternal sleeper
though each surviving loved one,
   would be inconsolable weeper.
TMReed Nov 2019
Chew me, will you?
Chew me, won't you?
Wedge me 'tween two
wine-stained yahoos.
Soak my core through
scaly beast, You!

Look at me,
more theatre than figure—lying here,
sinking deeper still in oddments and drool.

How long now,
have I withered in the moments I've missed?
Paths n’ pavements, once denounced, now creeping
like mold each night over my timber skin.

Oh to think,  
A wonder. A classic. A household name.
Might I earn such praise from heeding masses?
Could my story sneak like an ice cube down
their backs, spin stranger twists into their spines?
Relish, I would, their tales of joy n’ thrill
etched lovingly into mine. Into mine.

‘Stead I lie,
A janitor. A waste. An afterthought.
sweating in my splintered coat, stabbing at
wet hunks of lamb that shamelessly remind
me how truly ordinary I am.

Such is life,
for a toothpick.
Empty promises grow even between your teeth.
Dark Dream May 2021
I visited my hallway today
Anger was boiling inside
I slammed open the door
And yelled for all
“Get the **** out”
They scrambled left and right
Some disappeared
In the back
Misting away
One tried to beg
To stay inside
Another was cocky
Thought he would stay
But I screamed again
For all to leave
So I could finally have peace
From the yahoos
In my head
countless decades graduating
contemptible *** laude
hence same time frame every
August since...the stone
temple pilot age, this beastie
boy flashes back to yahoos
whose rawhide (mine) they
miraculously never whipped!

Uneasy panic stricken mindset
ensued mere weeks prior when
mum calls "time to wait for bus,"
despite miserable, horrible, and
execrable experience boarding
trademark yellow beast, when
driver opens maw generating
"whoosh" quickly scanning

parallel rows of cushioned seats
counting blessing after espying
pitch perfect place to plop posterior
farthest distance but tween one nerd
i.e. yours truly, garden variety long
haired pencil neck geek and posse of
unruly purple people eaters, analogous
to doppleganger Barney's (the playful

dinosaur kids love), nonetheless able,
ready and willing to shoot cruel, galling,
leering, quizzing...painful piercing skin
hardened killing stares accompanied with
smoke issuing nostrils awaiting golden
opportunity to kick me bony *** keister
while I frantically scurried, hightailed bat
of hell exitted out hydraulic operated door,

oft times mostly quick enough to hurriedly  
scamper among madding crowd of students
eagerly (ha) awaiting to enter academia's gruff
feet teed hallowed bricked walls, one puny
pubescent hiding these lovely bones out of
harm's way, meanwhile my heart did beat mile
a minute, profuse sweat drenched (even during
dead of winter), and pulse went thru stratosphere,

which reprieve lasted until deafening bell broad
cast courtesy intercom indicated all liz fair in love
and war (that sacred metaphorical loving battleground
being trapped inside storied halls of learning thank ye
skool of hard knocks, doing level best to sidle in close
proximity to baddest, biggest, boldest incredible hulk
hoping to stave off inevitable, yet unbeknownst to this
then scrappy runt, said goliath brute (I spontaneously

cozied up), alongside main ringleader regarding rebel
rousers, thus unwittingly, nicely, handily delivering
sought after prey perfectly into predator's clutches
realizing to late (ex post facto), a self touted pièce
de résistance did nothing to thwart salvation, ah joy
fully recalling fond memories contributing to electric
kool aid positive battery acid test learning experiences
at Methacton ideally trained for guerilla warfare.
The following poem tweaked
courtesy original author who crafted
literary endeavor some couple years ago.

Now circa August 20th, 2122,
or 1930 military time,
yours truly attempted
drafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd,
nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry,
still considered prime
moost procreative, prodigious,
professorial and progressive

stage coach, since he capitalized
palsied belles-lettres
(case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score plus orbitz round
Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically - analogous
to protracted lunchtime,
whereat in summer re:
an average offspring royal
jetson or judicious daughter

born twenty two years
into twenty second century alive
and well (still hashtagged
as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep,
and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and
mosaic Judaic/Christian give
wry master of words (me)
take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope
heart tickle early bird misthrive

moost definitely ***** deeds
done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space
cowboy hobbing lobbying power-drive
re: frequently innocent
prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau)
Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky
tinged entire his/her story,
**** sapiens animal husbandry
hastily did (oh Henry) wive.

Bajillion years after
proto humans experienced woe
countless figurative early
Brady bunched bro doggie
dimples encountered necessity
to escape cohabitation
(marital covenant alien),
yet quasi unbridled brouhaha
ofttimes witnessed altercation
begetting re: thorough

out baby with
bath water phenomena, which literal
cruel fate heavily peppered past (mine,
piper who got quite petered out) accounting
lamely explaining Pink Floyd
momentary status quo
upended accompanied courtesy
lapse of reason no

definitive evidence to substantiate claim,
yet I know
without darkly shadowed doubt
every friggin forebear ***
pining to savor manumission,
versus cotton pickin
back breaking stoop labor
think indentured escrow
harking back as webbed wide world turns
to days of our lives mainly bonobo

nasty, short and brute
**** creatures millenniums ago
unsung bipedal simian
kindred beings suffering figurative
ruffled horse feathers nsync
with bird in hand dodo
which latter species
long extinct (as Dutch good eats)

now non sequitur (sea quitter)
mine homeboys/girls
comprising Harris eventual
clan of craven lionized
"scapegoats" set genealogical precedent,
and (fantastically grew
like nose of Pinocchio,
some real winners gentiles,
who commingled and
intermarried, and united proudly
to kvetch as Jew

eventually acquiring
redeeming qualities conveniently
best caricatured as features
exhibited by Mister MaGoo
invariably dear reader
"fake" anecdote ye will poo poo
as well how storied and fabled
coronavirus (COVID-19)

medical technicians reference
quaint pandemic setting
figurative global stage
brethren and cistern microbes
made webbed, wide world
wish for said good ole days
cuz, communique done
being crafted about six hours

marine hated, armies
of Linkin Park - foo fighting
beastie boys slayed 2122 yahoos,
the darndest, hastiest, latest,
paunchiest piloted
microscopic bugaboo nearly slew
entire population, hence
envision terra firma with
divine providence
absolute zero people as edenic
provenance metaphorically
offering tabula rasa view.
Two Tennessee yahoos
trekked the train tracks
outside of town. They
were always at it --
half habit, half quest
for something new.
Anything.

The older man -- perhaps
the father or brother
of the younger -- had
hit on a plan of his own:
Today he would make
something new happen.

It was an act straight out
of a John Berryman
"Dream Song," even though
he had never heard
of the poet or his
magnum opus.
Little did it matter.

Down the tracks, you
could pick up the shrill horn
of a locomotive, barreling
blindly toward its stop
in town -- a Siren solo
that nobody paid
attention to anymore.

But the old man heard.
He stepped more evenly between
the rails, tightly shut his eyes,
and lifted his arms wide,
as if meeting an old friend,
The train sped on, clacking
clinically over the creosote ties.

The Cyclops eye on the face
of the locomotive shone
like a laser into the autumn twilight.
The older man braced himself,
deafened by the lonesome horn.
Like that, the train whooshed past
on the second rail.

He had picked the wrong track
to die on. He fell to his knees,
the horn of the train still rattling
his brain. Years later, he would
tell this tale -- half habit, half quest.
And we could still smell the scent
of something real coming close.
M Vogel Nov 2019

"My marriage is failing in the name of poetry."

This is difficult to have to read, kid.. I'm so very sorry. And again, I am sorry for what I am about to say, for so please forgive me.

This is not a poetry site here, it is an incestuous mosh pit of a social media site that uses poetry as a means to that end. The best way to save your marriage is let your husband read what I just said and hopefully, he will ask you to leave the site in order to save the marriage. I have watched you get in trouble for 4 years now-- falling for this one over here, and falling for that one over there.. most of them are a bunch of two-bit posers, and more than a fair share of them are simply ****-******* trolls. Many of these men who pass themselves off as poets and attract women to themselves are married or in relationships.. which makes it quadruple pathetic to me when I  see the **** that goes on here on this Faceb--.. I mean, poetry site.

You are a rare Jewel, babe. I saw it in you from day one. And I happen to know that your husband is a good man with a good heart-- and he's probably smart enough to know that any man that would fall for you is just doing what would come naturally when he sees the writing of  such a high-quality heart and spirit. But somewhere there is a line,

and this ******* place don't give a **** about lines.

My heart goes out to him.. in fact, to the both of you, because to lose one another would be a great loss indeed, and each of you know that. Know yourself, beauty.. and at any given time, know where your true help comes from. It doesn't come from any of these agenda-ed ******* yahoos who fancy themselves as poets and whisper sweet nothings to you through private messaging. I know you well enough to know that your heart knows exactly where it's help comes from-- especially once you get away from the cloud of dust that gets stirred up by many of these social interactions that carry on, and on--   and without ******* end, around here.

Let him (your husband) read this and see if poetry is actually ruining your marriage--
or is it that there is a social media site that's trying to pass it off in the name of poetry, that is causing your marriage the most problems of all.

And, yeah.. you very much have a right to be upset at me over what I have just said, love.. I certainly wouldn't blame you if you were. If you need to block me, I would understand.. but consider doing yourself a favor and showing your husband this first. Love has a brutality embedded deep within it, and I've just shown it to you. I'm so sorry.

"Faithful are the wounds of a friend,
but deceitful are the kisses of an enemy."


Show it to him, you absolutely gorgeous angel, and then feel free to block me or tell me to ******* or whatever you feel might be right to do. And if any of these posers that have been working on you for years don't like what I said,

well.. they can **** my mother-******* ****.

Peace to you, love. xox


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