The fog sets in as the gloom of pain and anger creep over the hill side reaching out to us, Engulfing our hearts and minds with hate towards the ones that cause us so much grief, Wishing we could step in and reflect the damage done to those we care so dear about, Unable to replace the horrid memories we sooth them as best we can, Digging deep within their souls trying to sew back each string bit by bit....Torment in our lives cause misery beyond belief, All we ask for is pure joy and happiness, No such thing is bestowed upon anyone even those who deserve it, Stab the pain givers in their hearts with mental abuse of anguish in which they've given...make them suffer for the hurt they leave in their wake, Close your eyes...visions of how to ravage anothers body with your own torture deep within your mind, Actions wish to unleash such thoughts but alas we are stuck standing in front of the mirror as we bleed from the tear duct of our eyes, Hold strong be there for them...it's all we really can do anymore.
Copyright © Samantha Johnson
It's filled with pain
My mind is stained
Stained with every memory
Sometimes I think today will be my last day
This place causes me so much pain
I wish I didn't have to stay
Some days are worse than others
Dying for food
I'd do anything
To many things go through my head
Will I be able to keep down my next meal?
Will I live for tomorrow?
Is this terrifying place even real?
I feel so alone
Yet I'm surrounded by people
But this place could not be called a home
There's no life in these places
Or in these faces
Everyone looks dead
As so do I
Most of us haven't been fed
My eyes have been marked
With these dead bodies that lay upon the ground
Without a soul I still look at them
Soon I may be found
As one of them
Copyright © Hope Diamond
~Don’t Fall ~
Yet another restless night
Bad dreams every other hour
I turn on the light hoping
It will calm me down
Yet it takes me back in time
And there he stands
Like a shadow in the night
Naked as can be
Laughing an evil laugh
As he says to me
Mio Piccola Puttana
I can’t let him get to me
So please teardrops
I look into the mirror
I see that pasty skin
Paired with double chins
I think to myself starving won’t Even get the fat off
I feel so defeated yet still
I tell myself
Looking for a way out
I feel like I am stuck inside my Past
Reliving every moment
One after another
It feels like it is happening all over Again
I feel the tears in my eyes so I say
Now I can see him in the faces of Strangers
I feel so alone and out of place
I still force myself to get up each Day
Even though I want to hide
It is such a struggle
Day after day
And to add to the pain
I have to make sure those
If you touch me I might break
If you are hear to see me
Please don’t hurt me
That I wouldn’t be able to take
Know that I am like a dam ready To break
So if you were to hug me
Hold my hand or touch me
In any other comforting way
This dam may break
And there won’t be any telling
Copyright © Jeanna York
I do not know?
I feel the world crashing around me,
my breath fading.
Pain surges through my body.
I fear my hope of life is diminishing.
All is lost I can feel the regret of every lost sole.
I long for relief but all I feel is torture.
When will it all end, when will the last hour be, how will I suffer death?
Copyright © Olivia Brag
I do not know?
Dear Sir, my innocence is gone now, no more fear
Do you love to **** me again, I am always here.
I wonder when you taught me how to use a pen,
I was so into you but my ****** was in pain!
I was crying; I was too immature to understand
I was turning only 13, I couldn't feel what happened.
but I promise I never forget what you taught me at the end.
I begged you to stop and looked into your eyes,
there was a reflection of a cruel world, that’s what I deserved!
Don't be afraid, mommy never knows what you did,
Nobody knows that you made me bleed.
Dear sir, my innocence is gone with all my tears,
as I had no safe place to hide myself from fears.
Nobody saw anything as your world was so blind!
having hidden hatred inside, a virgin died.
Dear sir, time cannot erase your memories,
time doesn't heal all wounds, that you marked,
yes, you took my innocence that will be always on my mind.
My innocent world was shattered by your touch
Hope no one ever has to experience such
For all the pain, all the cruelty, thank you very much!
Copyright © Farhana Akter
You have my soul, but you have your fate
Whatever your words, I’m willing to take
You have my word; I’ll give you my breath
It’s like a chain that would never be break
You are my love with all my heart,
I’ll fight for you with all my might.
And in the way, you admire your goals,
You hold my hands, but not so close.
As you go to your chosen path,
I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart.
In the dark side, I leave behind
Within my faith, that you’ll arise
Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still
I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near
I accept my fate for what it does,
I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was?
You reach your goals, as you want to have,
Would you remind the man that gave what he had?
As you reach the stars, and be the one
Be a sun that shines its own.
After the rain, the rainbow comes,
Like dark in the moon, when the light flash
A glimpse from you at least a short
For then I knew my pain is worth.
Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana
Was it said before? Sure.
Was it said this way? I doubt it.
Perspective is in no way obscure,
And his works are nothing without it.
His motivation’s observed in daily life,
Misery, not just some vague inspiration.
He begs for reason, some way to lessen strife;
His words reflect a resounding desperation.
There seems a need at times to clarify,
But that’s allowed in his terms only;
So many thoughts seem somewhat ‘rarefied’,
Fed his fire, but made him lonely.
No ‘underachiever’, not just another fool,
But still seeking solace by the glass;
Tempering his stagger and his drool
With just a bit of ‘kiss my ass.’
But, usually, genius ‘sots’ come to ground,
Lucid moments - on the square;
Their driving ‘bolts’ of genius, word or sound,
Only written because they dare.
Yes, you can feel the written “heart”,
But few of us can realize that sort of pain;
No isolated misery… of many lives a part,
Each begs an answer... “Who’ll stop the rain?”
Yes, he’s lived it, seen it, and told it well;
But Timing is the Master of one’s Fate.
Is the timing right? Funny…only time will tell…
Will you will be a whining sot or dare to be great?
One success can be lucky, we’ve seen that before.
One book, one song, then quietly fade away.
But six novels later, we should know the score;
He must have had something to say.
So, at the perfect time, someone heard.
Someone who was “someone” took someone under wing.
And to those with interest and empathy, they sold his words;
Saying they “are genius” and with “ugly truth” they ring.
But did he create any redeeming changes or impacts?
Yes, what singular influence did all his artful whining bring?
None... just a relentless, repetitive diatribe of sad facts.
Oh, yes…..and a little “ching ching”.
Entered in the "Idiot or Genius" contest 27 March 2014
not so genius
Copyright © Robert Candler
We have walked on them
Each day and night, we leave our print
If it could stretch one could see the distance
Its on these streets that most have been betrayed
Others have been killed and murdered for no reason
Some began their love story on them
These streets hold onto the weight of the society
Its a pain that some won't walk on them again
Will the time come when secrets will be shared?
Am tired of innocent killings taking place
Yet the perpetrators run away using the same streets
It seems like some mysteries won't ever be solved
The answers we seek won't be answered when we still mortal
Am going to leave these questions to the Immortal Being
Even though we seem hopeless, don't let that drain your dream
These streets are older than most of us
Lets stop seeking for the known within the unknown
Some things are worth leaving them alone
At the end, we still have a street to walk on.
Copyright © ENOCK SANG
This expanse of land has seen things.
Things all of us can only see in dreams.
It's seen war, it's gotten it's fair share of scars.
Bombs bursting, bullets throwing sand into the air like it's a volleyball tournament.
The sand running red with blood silently mocking our arteries.
This magnificent stretch of land has seen heroes' tears fall; dropping to their knees while sadness envelopes their fallen brothers but also looking up to their beloved whilst carrying a ring in their hand.
It's seen bright days, the sun glimmering over wet sand, footprints of past loves being washed away as the sun smacks the horizon.
This expanse of land...has seen things we can only imagine.
Copyright © Tyler Kisner
July Twenty Eight
The year, 1914
The War which we feared
It began, something we could not foresee
This date, still haunters me
To this very day
Those bewailing screams
And those traumatic scenes
Words to do not to justify
The violence I've seen
Those images cemented in my brain
I still have those vivid dreams
From what took place
That no matter how much gin
I drink it will not go away
I pray for forgiveness for my sins
For those i killed in the war
My families even more distraught
This carnage i couldn’t bare
A pray to him up here, make it back from the war
I shed blood sweat and tears for my brothers
Living in pure darkness for so many years
Barbaric injuries that cant be Unseen
Blind to the cold war's corruption
And the overwhelming destruction
The hellish scenes, the smell of death
The air breathed in and breathed out
Men bleeding out, guts open on show
From the broken torsos
I tried i to heal him
Whilst in the mist of the battlefields
I cant see him breathing
Tranquility masks over him
Hes close to leaving
Hes dying right next to me, I blamed me
We were meant to be a team
He went charging out ahead of me
He was only young, he was was like my son
The fight with death that was the battle
A brave soul but looking back at him
Was the darkness of gun barrel!
I failed him as his sergeant
And as his farther!
I couldn’t look at his broken carcass
And my pain bleeds
Eternal may he rest in peace
That day will be remembered with me
Taken to my grave
Trapped in hell my tombed sealed
But I'm still awake
My eyes still twitching, they flicker
I'm itching to put the gun
To my temple and pull the trigger
To ease the pain emotionally and physically
Get out of this hell hole instantly
We cant we have more love and peace!
7 million civilians deceased
Bodies piled up in a heap
My gun wound though my leg
Reminds me of my narrow escape of death
As i stick my fingers in pulling out the bullet
Through sheer will power and adrenaline i manged to do it
As the blood oozes I'm losing too much
When we it stop
It ensues blood
My life flashes I'm doomed
Must I stop thinking I'm a useless solider
I still have both my arms
In my holster,
Bomb blast off just over my platoon
My brothers fatal wounds
From there firearms
Bleeding out hes dying in my arms!
And theirs nothing i can do!
Go for cover dragging my brothers limbless body out fast
From the depths of despair
Muddy helmet and bloody chest
My impulse to pull my trigger to revenge my brothers death
I clench my gun and come out screaming out of my trench
I wake screaming
My nightmare isn’t real
Gulp the vodka, numb the pain
The same nightmare again!
Night after night day after day!
I can still smell the scent of rotten-ting flesh
The only thing the war promised was death!
A minute silence for all those
Who died 4 years ago wont
Bring those broken souls home
But with restore some hope
This war has finally fished today the date
11th of November Nineteen Eighteen
A date that we be forever remembered
But even more traumatic than fortitude
Was returning home too
Loved ones and breaking the there bad news!
She asks you how did he die?
You say peacefully, you lied
We both know its not true
R.I.P Private Mathew Blue.
Copyright © Jamie Walker
Cain's Self Denial 2015
4 a m again alone,
In a room full of peers
A raging war is being fought,
Confined between your ears
Drafted into battle, with no enemy to engage
Yet volunteering unwillingly fueling dueling rage
Mystic river flows, with the blood of innocent
No longer even knowing, or caring how truth was bent
Angry at nobody, and everyone in between
Sabotaging yourself, and unraveling every seam.
Whose roles change day to day
A game with no clear rules
Consciously unconsciousness, I know that I must pay
What promise can be spoken, to bring life into the void, uttered self denial, to speak within the ploy
And the enemy I can't see, nor begun to understand
Callously reflects my cards and always tips my hand
The price you pay for breaking souls, just keeps on feeling cheaper
You soothe your conscience with the ancient line that your not your brother's keeper
There's no bad and there's no good, you played the only hand you could
And the hollow eyes around you, pretend they couldn't see
You shake your head and try your best to pretend you don't believe
Yet you know too well the horror. . . Of what you've come to be
Copyright © Kelly Crenshaw
Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
We consume it all like freshly baked bread
We feed until we are engorged and fed
A viral, universal mess
Ideas and unmade memories
Nothing more or less
My eyes remain glued to the screen
Living it all out
Tears dare to flow—to doubt
I should have thought of that
Can I truly let myself believe,
Someone else lived that!
Pound away your directors, script-writers, fighters
For miles and miles of stories remain unread
While the unknown remain in the grounds of humble malnourishment
Careers for the mind with a twist of the fable
Left us savage for the meal and the crumbs under the table
I can never let the raw truth rest
Naked, bare and empty—soothed
Nothing more or less
I cringed for originality
Observed the world through the unedited scripts
The very act, the poetry pact
The wild animal drooling in the back
I was slapped in the face by my boss who had cracked
As the reviews bloated less and less
They wanted something awful, something flaw-ful—something new
And this empty brain in agony—HISSED
I have lived in no epic battle of account
Of the collateral sufferings of my brothers
The stories the red carpet smothers
And still I ache to create
Before the other ones discover
I returned with ‘‘oh me’s’ and ‘oh my’s’’
With a work of pure genius—a storybook of lies
Nothing more or less
Little have I lacked to dream
Of contortioned pulls and dramatic fire
Stories that rarely brittle or tire
I fiddled with precious glass on edge
Foully eager for self-damage
As if it would trigger some legitimate spark
Searching for creatures and features in the dark
No one unlocked the passage that night
For the starving idea-parched malice of right
But all welcomed with open arms
A pale mannequin filled with jewels and charms
Consuming, fuming dooming
All ghosts hoping, screaming, looming
Hoping that one day they would find themselves on the big screen
Their legacy real as it can possibly get
Nothing more or less
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal
Dark days dreadful indeed,
peasants planting their seed,
Foreign to peace with galvanized hate,
With doubt in ourselves we submit to the great,
We say we are free but tend to conform,
Hand you a noose if you're out of the norm,
We proliferate lies and refute the truth,
Give up our ambition to feel aloof,
Please oh help us powerful god,
Stop those who lie, kill, and maraud,
We have succumbed to infinite darkness,
He may have created us, but has surely departed
Copyright © Miguel Scott
Attainment of success, stardom and fame
Remains the ultimate dream of many
Who seek the publication of their name
Upon the future pages of history
The journey to such a destination
Requires effort and dedication
Those who at last gain such recognition
Enjoy a well deserved satisfaction
Some celebrities who make this journey
Find coping with this new life can be rough
There's an invasion of their privacy
And the demands of stardom can be tough
They then turn to some drug to ease the stress
Whether it's alcohol or other stuff
Soon their entire life can become a mess
And dealing with it's pressures can be rough
Bouts of anxiety and depression
Are what they have to endure constantly
Some develop a serious addiction
That may lead to suicidial tendency
Women tend to choose a gentler ending
Like drug overdose or a means that's neat
Some may opt to end it all by hanging
Mindful not to mess up the body sheath
Some men go for a violent ending
By putting a bullet through their own head
Others jump off a bridge or tall building
Seeking to ensure that they will be dead
Those aspiring to fame and stardom
Pursue your dream and goal diligently
Just be mindful of how things can become
And seek to be guided accordingly
Whitney Houston(singer, actress) – drug overdose
L'Wren Scott(fashion designer, model) - hanging
Kurt Cobain(singer, songwriter) – bullet to head
Tony Scott(Academy award winning actor) – jumped off bridge
Copyright © john beharry
You were taken to soon.
Ripped away from us.
You knew it was our final goodbye.
But the truth was hidden.
With a tear in your eye,
There was one last goodnight hug.
I wiped away the tear,
Then smiled and walked away.
By the time of the morning light
It was already too late.
You were gone and to a better place.
Never knew of your acknowledged your pain.
Of your suffering
Sometimes I wonder,
"If I only cared more
Would you still be here?
If I only hurt less,
Would you still be here?"
I'd deny it if I could.
But inside we both know,
I am the reason
You went away.
Copyright © Gwendolyn Coffey
Your words are like stones
Whether skipped or thrown
They fly alone
Bruising and breaking deeper than bones
Yet pain from these stones will never be shown.
Whether near or far
She'll faithfully wait
Till the unknown date
When those stones are kind and lost of hate
You make mistakes
Yes she can relate
But what if the pain becomes to great
Whe the kindness comes too late
Such small pieces of her heart
whats left to make
She gave to much
Now there's none to take
Just one everlasting ache
That your stones did create
They say you can never retake
A women's heart once it breaks
So next time withhold the quake
Your stones with take
And keep this lesson
As a dear keepsake.
<3 Kalee Lynn
Copyright © Kalee Robertson
More things can happen or could have happened,
From a cold metal,
Sharpened in fine fettle,
Making skin nettled,
Damaging the mettles,
To keep minds unsettled,
Provoking to ask, if this is or if this was real or mental?
Blade on arms,
Skin might be harmed;
Skin was gashed,
Blade grinding and gnashed,
Red colors coming in a flash...
Blade on gut,
Feeling a sudden jut,
Provoked as a rut,
But, this was a guff...
Blade on neck,
Thinking about a sudden sweep,
Discord trying to overcome conviction and peace,
Even though, the blade failed again,
Failing to provoke the red gushes and streams...
Blade on heart,
Might be the last battle so far,
Trying to not give in, being so hard,
Though in the past, there could have been to many cuts,
And more deadly slashes,
Creating red splashes and plashes,
As I slowly might have fought, winning or losing,
Against the sleeping and life flashing feeling,
As I bleeded out..
Copyright © Ruben A. Hernandez Diaz
BY STREET CRIES
PEOPLE PASS ME LIKE I DONT EXIST
LIKE I AM THE ONE WHO REALLY WANTED THIS
DROWNING IN MY SORROW AS I REMINISCE
DAYS OF MY LIFE FULL OF HUNDRED DOLLARNESS
FAST CARS PLENTY OF WOMEN TO KISS
NOW WOMEN RUN CAUSE OF MY STENCH
I USE TO BE ON BILLBOARD ADVERTISEMENT
NOW I HOLD SIGNS IN FRONT OF BILLBOARD ADVERTISEMENT
FACE FULL OF PAIN BEYOND RECOGNIZEMENT
HEART FULL OF SHAME WONDERING WHERE THE TIME WENT
YOU CANT SLEEP OR BE HERE IS MY ONLY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
FORCE TO LIVE IN A ENVIRONMENT WHERE ADDICTION IS DOMINATE
ROB AND RAPE HAPPEN TO THE SCARED AND SILENT
JUST TO GET A PLATE CAN TURN INTO SENSELESS VIOLENCE
UNDER THE INTERSTATE JUST TO CLOSE MY EYE LIDS
BLINDNESS PROTECTS YOU FROM SOCIETY DISGUISES
WHILE I STAND IN A FOOD LINE APART OF THE POVERTY CRISIS
Copyright © Street Cries
I'm not sure how youre going to lead your people to salvation
gang bangers holding the bag, perpetrating violence
i can't help what i think about that predicament
blackmailed, or all rap artists truly do like being the figure heads
of community terrorism
fighting for their rights throughout history
just to throw it all away
raised to believe they were the only ones whose legacy is a nightmare
but they make money rubbing their guns and drugs in our face
selling other people to blackmarkets for slavery
to make more chemicals
I truly hope you take this opportunity to lead your people in the right direction
to truly be able to find themselves
i'm only one person on the outside looking in
i just truly dont believe all those money making rap artists
truly desire to continue the cycle of violence
i myself believe some sick racist paid them to throw themselves away
Drugs and guns
\kids killing kids
something has to be done
and why your people are the ones representing this
I truly believe another black man can encourage his fellows of skin
to see the bright side, work on solving the problem from now on instead of making it worse
I can't handle much more of this
seeing people fight for their rights
and lose to themselves again
being part of the solution of the problems they are soo upset about
is more understandable than being paid to be the front lines of genocide
and continue the never ending cycle of hate and confusion
I'm not fooled by what has happened to them, and what is
but change is inevitable, solving their own problems they probably were entrapped with
War crimes on both sides
the black and white
minds cornered by previous experiences just want to end this nightmare
or maybe i'm wrong
maybe the racists over there are right
maybe they didnt see how someone made them think one thing
and used violence to enforce actions cornering the hate again
in the end war crimes on both sides
i just urge you to find a solution to this
i myself am tired of the psychological fight of a futile civil war
engulfing both sides of the unfortunate paradox
its harder than you realise to see through it
its harder not to get wrapped up in my own emotions of the past that was and the present
Manipulative people brainwashed the innocent
and then used violence against your people to prove that they are justified
its a sick game obama
its disgusting and the streets of your own society need a solution to a dirty trick
Copyright © Troy Jeremy Nelson
Those who kill innocents are cruel,
Their bodies will always be hell’s fuel,
Islam teaches about honor and dignity,
Care and love for the whole humanity,
But black sheeps are found everywhere,
Like KKK or Taliban, “Be aware”,
They do things on their own,
Their very own people, they disown.
All rights are reserved. Syed Imon Rizvi
From a book "Outspoken" - 2012
Available at www.amazon.com
Copyright © Syed Imon Rizvi
How do we stop this evil?
Little folk come out to play
Their hearts brim filled with joy
While foulest men, with deep, dark souls
Their innocence destroy
As the world becomes a poison place
Cause who can small minds trust?
Because of sour brittle, hearts
All filled with grime and lust
Childlike joy begins to fade
And life turns kind of sour
How will they flower??
A happy place all filled with joy
Is how it’s meant to be
So little children filled with life
Can feel alive and free
Yet dark warped ghouls all filled with lust
With evil in their hearts
They prey on all this innocence
And tear small hearts apart
These little souls, they be our future
They must be nurtured well
Or time will tell.
Butterflies no longer fly
And birds no longer sing
With only fear within their hearts
No joy does life then bring
For little folk just made to love
How does this evil grow
Oh, I don’t know!!.
It seems the world don’t care enough
To stop this crime for good
So children, they can laugh and play
In a good safe neighbourhood
If the remedy don’t come real soon
The future looks real grim
These children, they will rule some day
Then decency will dim
Because young minds so badly poisoned
Can only come from fear
This seems so clear.
Copyright © Peter Duggan
A beast with dark red eyes,
to give out fire burning lies,
a beast with such a hunting nose,
terrible stench where ever it goes.
A beast with teeth like jagged knives,
its mouth of saws taking lives,
a beast with horns like powerful steel,
when there is pain, it will not feel.
A beast with sharp and bloody claws,
its body of scales against all laws,
a beast with a swinging tail of spikes,
to stab through anything it likes.
A beast with wings to slice through air,
to fly and kill without a care,
a beast with death in its mind and heart,
from somewhere far and worlds apart.
Copyright © Caitlin Rimmer
Who ever saw the fires of hell would be able to attest
It’s burning from the centre to the peak;
All the mountains are covered with the heavens blanket
Where will i ever see a mountain this high?
Our buildings look so small;
How did this splendid art form
The olds call it the work of god
The pagan say it the power of nature
The face is wrinkle not of age but,
The burning tears of sorrow
I see swallows flying motionless
I look at the flowers that give its beauty
It’s beyond those plains where they walk tirelessly
Even the scorching sun has no effect
Evenings covered by strife in families
Nothing looks to be affecting the lilies
Neither the awls cannot complain
But to I it’s burning like scorching furnace
The tears that have made the face a playing ground
This is favour they are giving to the grief
These are tears of salts mix with despair.
Copyright © Zakhe Michael Mcunu
I do not know?
Underneath my fingerprints of sorrow,
Between his determined and swift disclosure,
Few are spiteful for the sake of compassion.
Wide-eyed noise pierces the remarkable silence
While everyone around breathes a tender apology,
As he lies, slumbering tranquilly.
Copyright © Macy Michelle
don't you hear?
But they are silent,
They hold only my must
I'm just getting started,
Now dying by a sickness,
They can no long
My heart becomes cold,
And I no longer want
Another day of heart ache and
Days seem to pass,
Yet still stuck in da,
Moments that never last.
I blame it on the devil's past,
An evil plans to kill me dis fast.
Hidden secrets Beneath pure darkness
If I could correct it i would....
Yet you can't take back the
Things you've done... only fix who
You can become.
It's up too you...
Copyright © Chelsey D Moore
I do not know?
Yesterday I saw you standing there at the curb
With her , The woman you chose to invade our world
Breaking every single promise you vowed to me in pride
Every word I held close within my heart all your lies
The vital lies you used to confuse were used to woo
drawing me closer to you you scensed my uncertainty
got me to drop my guards for you giving no resistance
Only you have taken me to vulnerability that every inch of my
body always feared
And as I watch the two of you holding hands on the curb
You showing her the love that I alone should have endured
Let her steal my love without a care in the world all out in public
I almost vomit in my mouth Unable to swallow im lovesick
I am truly disgusted at you sharing what i valued more than myself
With this scantily clad I dont know what std's she may have had
trashier worthless trampier version of what I look like on my worst day
How could you trade my unconditional love for a 2$ Whore you've picked
a golddigger that looks so thirstay
I daydream thoughts of her looking that happy with her lip busted
Her Holding her fattened lip while you stand in horror as her blood gushes
Will you still stand by her side with that smirk? Or cure your amnesia ?
Realize the horrible mistake and fix us ? Im the one that can please ya
If you were apologetic I would take you back , Promising to earn back the broken trust
Helping to mend Back my broken heart , Together we can superglue the pieces
together again , after you have jumped back inside as i smooth out the final creases
Catering to every want and need you have. Your Cook , your maid , your seamstress
*Beep*Beep* The horn of the Cars behind me Shocks me back into Reality
Back into Hurt Back to Pain and My Sorrow , Back to agony the Jealousy ,
then Rage of fantasies Seasing And being stuck back in the Present ,
I thought we finally had the second chance we need for reconnection
As I drive past I leave alongside My shattered heart on the curb
To stay close to you and miss thang just in case the lust fades
if you ever need a place to stay it will be your shelter in the rain
I drive now no heart ,im empty within ,now merely a void
promise to myself The curb again i must always avoid
Copyright © kaotik kandee
Fright washes through my tiny veins
He's drunk and driving in opposite lanes
Scared for my life, he enters my complex
Because of something he blew out of context
So alone in my house with locked windows and doors
Scared for 4 1/2 years because of his roars
Trying to break in because he knew I was there
Feeling my anger and fright begin to flare
Locked in my bathroom --- police on the phone
Feeling my insides go heavier as my heart turns to stone
Dispatch says to keep inside and wait for the Law
Breaking my heart, soul, and love as it goes raw
The Law arrived and saw him and the others outside
For 4 1/2 years inside of him I did confide
He raised his fists and almost killed me more than twice
But on his wrists and arms --- he always made a slice
Crazy and deranged and scared for my life
4 1/2 years of bloody pain and strife
Controlled and scared I shake in my bed
Because one day I feel like I'll be dead
Either I leave or he leaves my state
It's the best way to leave him behind and my would-of-been-fate
Threatening my family and all of my friends
Tired of waiting for him to kill me --- where is my end?
Today was a common nightmare like always before
My mind, body, and soul go sore
So now he's gone and the Law won again
And again I am alone to live in this
Domestic Violence Sin
Copyright © Sheryl Lynn Knoles
In the narrow world of your dream home
I’m a suspicious and a cryptic man
Thoughts and feelings born in my mind
How could I plainly explain to whom you doesn’t listen
Your concrete hopes burst neither reasonable reason
My abstract dreams sway in humanity means
A center to meet together disturbs traumatic ignorance
How would find our desires to fulfill at the key lost entrance
I never oppose you to sink in your world you wish to do so
You never bear my abstract world that fight for better so
Since I live in your frame, I’m a prisoner of suffer so
The great wall that is built, blindly life, I suppose so
Mistrust grows and conflict hurts forever we realized
Disgust studs, space arrest us time not allowed
Revenge in darkness behaves hands with bomb aimed
Cuffs in hands of hearts in moral cry that never hoped
Udaya R. Tennakoon
Copyright © Udaya R. Tennakoon
An impressionist’s pastel painting of the foe,
Releasing unheard sighs of a sinner’s woe,
Mere wisps of his charred and tainted soul,
His empty eyes resemble burning holes of eternal coal,
Seeing only deathly pale faces lined and worn,
While following an eerie voice full of spiteful scorn,
Leading him towards lost corners of insanity,
Where he’s bound to serve ‘til the death of eternity.
Eidolon creeps amongst the bonfires of hell,
Where wretched souls burn and spasm in this fiery cell,
Him, hidden in illusions his mind created the surreal,
Captured spirit behind solid bars of steel,
His timeless existence in oblivion and spoil,
Still climbing higher and higher, to where he lays,
Where Eidolon walks cloaked in sinful ways,
A cloak befouled and woven in sin:
A weeping widow’s rope-round-the-throat,
A drunkard’s drowned body a-float,
Greedy lord whom robbed the poorly,
A psycho who raped his first child, mercilessly,
Their damaged souls tarnish this cloak of sorrow.
(I know it isn't complete and it's kindda goosebump/nightmare material. Sorry about that.)
© Copyright All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Fatima Ammar
She needed to feel something.
She needed... to be touched,
Needed to be cared about-
But the only friend she trusted
Enough to see her so vulnerable
Was small and cold and silver...
Still, it was all she had,
So she treated it like a lover-
At least a blade is something
She can hold onto tightly as it
Kisses her skin with something
Almost like gentleness
Before dipping into her like a
Cold, silver tongue... albeit one
That parts her wrist
Instead of her lips...
It bites her, and that hurts,
But the burning is worth
The sensation of feeling
Anything, right now...
Copyright © Cameron Hartley