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"yatch" poems
I get it, my problems aren't that bad. Worse things happen to better people everyday. I live in a costal, wealthy, yatch club town, Officially an only child, With my judgmental sister spending her freshman year in Manhattan. I live with my favorite parent, who doesn't care what fun I have as long as I'm honest and safe, and of course I get my schoolwork done, and the other who drives me insane is fortunately not in the same area code as me. But it hurts To be the listener for the people who created me As they speak horrible things about each other, Express their loathing for one another. To be so broken And not to know what do to about it.. Self abuse is in my rearview, but I just hate talking about myself so much. I've gotten really good at bottling up And moving on Just letting my bad thoughts and feelings Dissolve into worthlessness. But sometimes it ***** to be alone. I just wish you were here to tell me I'm not and that you love me.
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Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 8:50 PM UTC
problems
whats up comin at cha from a different perspective…… I don’t have to be a gangsta pack heat rock jordans 300 dolla feat ice coated nines blindin muthafukkas actin all hard causin a ruckus I roll wit style my own I made not actin like a ***** still getting paid I been married 10 years still eatin that same salad real love is better than ******* tryin to act valid see if fake *** **** is what you sellin my crew see threw be handed out honeydew melons I’m a new kind a rapper – See I help ya move and loan cash same friends since way back roll deep smoke **** life cheap retire neat buy a yatch drive a jeep grow my own still a freak I’m a different kind of rapper – you can call me Sammy T or MCDJPJS, if a please i bring it hard put ya on your knees have ya starin up, mouth all agape but when I still don’t touch ya you be callin **** try to knock me down like Cosby ***** I’ll trap ya sell ya *** to Pauly feed ya mushroom set you in a field play some grateful dead watch ya spirit yield Im a different kind of rapper –
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Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
Different kind of rapper
*I'm planning to cross the ocean I'm planning a swim under the sun I'm planning to hit and follow the road I'm planning to lift all my load I'm planning to endure the hurt I'm planning to fix my heart I'm planning to tightly embrace Water my faith and bloom in grace I'm planning to give it another try Even if it might as well make me cry I'm planning to osculate again And walk with you in the rain I'm planning to forgive that day Even if it still feels like yesterday I'm planning to get up and get going On a train, yatch or a boeing I'm planning to lift myself from down And instantly leave this town Pulling my socks,tightening my laces 'Cause I'm planning on going places There's a peace I seem not to have I'm planning to find it, and to love I'm planning to write another chapter One that ends with happily ever after*
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Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 1:59 AM UTC
ANOTHER CHAPTER
A man with a dream Is No different from a kite For they all lack vision and sight. For some the sun shines East to West But mine shines West to East, So l have no time to waste. I wasn't born with a Porsche I never had a Yatch I Never had a Country house nor a Country Club. I never wore fancy Silk Blazers, But my past does not define me and neither do my deeds or words uttered from my  mouth. No one believes in me I am all l have, My ambitions are like echos from a cave. But actions speak louder than words And my dreams will never fade. I look to the North The East The West The South But there is none like me I am different, l am special, l am like no other that has roamed this earth, They Try to hold me down with the system, They secretly doctorate me and use Shackles and Chains to limit me. But l laugh at them For my dream is bigger than me, them or any man on this earth. FOR I AM A MAN WITH A DREAM And it is my only drive to the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.
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Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 1:57 PM UTC
No Vision, No Sight
In my world, there is a boundless ocean so bountiful It was tinted crimson like fresh blood flowing Some places are calm, while some are raging As I sail with my rusty sailboat and my fractured paddle By what I saw, I was utterly bewildered Bleeding people with smiling faces Crying people in broken pieces Now I know why the water was florid Why do people do these deeds? Ain’t it painful enough when they bleed? Why do they continue loving, as if it’s their creed? A crazy world, is full of crazy people indeed I sailed near a shipwreck and found a desolate man He was staring into space, maybe the horizon in his sight What was ever beautiful as it is ending, the setting sun I asked him his experiences and this he told with all his might There is always a possibility of failing to reap what you sow But we still love, for we might be the victor, who knows Then why do we love? Isn’t it for happily ever after? When that happiness fades, do we then surrender? No, no! Never lose hold! Just hold on tight! A couple in a luxurious yatch chimed in The storm will pass as you endure the rain You’ll see, if you both survive, a future brighter than sunlight But then a free spirited surfer interjected with glee Why must we endure if all we feel is pain? Like what he said, in the end we may not reap the grain If they can free each other, why prolong their agony You are and will not be wrong to start it and continue to hold But, I say, your resolve may be weak, to see it to the end Or time had caused its toll, and behold! This is what happens when your will eventually bend Still, don’t worry dear sir, your boat is maybe broken But I know and experienced, time will do the fixin’ And you’ll sail once more after you stand up when you’re down Unless you decide to end it all here and drown Time does it magic without end To further bond, eventually erode or slowly mend Love and time in a sense is eternal and relative Farewell now wanderers, we still have a life to live
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 6:28 AM UTC
“Sailing the Red Ocean”
In my world, there is a boundless ocean so bountiful It was tinted crimson like fresh blood flowing Some places are calm, while some are raging As I sail with my rusty sailboat and my fractured paddle By what I saw, I was utterly bewildered Bleeding people with smiling faces Crying people in broken pieces Now I know why the water was florid Why do people do these deeds? Ain’t it painful enough when they bleed? Why do they continue loving, as if it’s their creed? A crazy world, is full of crazy people indeed I sailed near a shipwreck and found a desolate man He was staring into space, maybe the horizon in his sight What was ever beautiful as it is ending, the setting sun I asked him his experiences and this he told with all his might There is always a possibility of failing to reap what you sow But we still love, for we might be the victor, who knows Then why do we love? Isn’t it for happily ever after? When that happiness fades, do we then surrender? No, no! Never lose hold! Just hold on tight! A couple in a luxurious yatch chimed in The storm will pass as you endure the rain You’ll see, if you both survive, a future brighter than sunlight But then a free spirited surfer interjected with glee Why must we endure if all we feel is pain? Like what he said, in the end we may not reap the grain If they can free each other, why prolong their agony You are and will not be wrong to start it and continue to hold But, I say, your resolve may be weak, to see it to the end Or time had caused its toll, and behold! This is what happens when your will eventually bend Still, don’t worry dear sir, your boat is maybe broken But I know and experienced, time will do the fixin’ And you’ll sail once more after you stand up when you’re down Unless you decide to end it all here and drown Time does it magic without end To further bond, eventually erode or slowly mend Love and time in a sense is eternal and relative Farewell now wanderers, we still have a life to live
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