He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
All results of
I could care less about the four
corners of insults,
That intelligence invites;
It is always the first straw of
grass that’s grows,
which reveals the popular outcast;
As a youth, I found my image cut down
into this manufactured silhouette.
Drenched in social rain, my peers
had never found me more alienated,
Then when I spoke fluently of diverse
They did everything in their power to provide
a verbal umbrella,
However, the texture remains weak and
This stormy parade that remains’ dripping is
indeed an afterthought,
For within this cranial mansion resides
For the more abstract and surreal
elements of life;
It is that secluded gland which reveals
the renaissance of men, who wear
Now wearing the shoes of a young
A taste of charisma resides in my
However this slight addiction to external
Comes in second to my first drug of
Membership into this fraternity may take a lifetime;
So don’t be surprised when resistance
knocks at your door,
Intimidated by the lion that dwells within
Indeed intellect is the misunderstood
That blossoms sweeter when accepted.
Many voices from the past,
Always echoing in my head,
How long can it last,
I thought you were dead.
You always tell me what to do,
So I don't make a mistake,
Somehow you always knew,
How many I could make.
Because once I hurt you,
And you'll never let me forget,
But what can I do,
You're not quite dead yet.
Why won't you leave me alone,
Will you never forgive me,
I wish I could atone,
Please, just let me be.
The hollow echo of your voice,
Will linger on forever,
You've given me no choice,
It'll never stop, ever.
The sound of you used to make me smile,
But now it tortures me,
I will always be in denial,
So an end I'll never see.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
Giorgio V.'s contest - "Impress Me 2" - themes-gothic/spiritual
As the master potter plies his wonderful trade
To mould the clay his design in his head is now laid
He shapes, he feels and he moulds it with care
The finished piece still in his dreams to be fair.
With his skill and inner eye he sees his masterpiece
But before he throws it, he needs to find inner peace.
His skill in knowing and loving and he has the knack
Making sure with any pressure his piece will not crack.
His piece is here, and now it needs to sit and slowly dry
Before it’s placed in the fire in temperatures so high
A worrying time for the potter, in the heat of the fire
Will his masterpiece survive and it’s his fervent desire.
But the potter with his skill has learnt his trade well
And his piece will survive so he needn’t’ dwell
All the love he has lavished on his masterpiece
Will survive all the heat, and will now bring him peace.
© ~GG~ 27/02/2013
I do not know?
My pencil is my sword
My eraser is my shield
And when I go to war
My paper is my battlefield
When life is to much
This is how I express the way I feel
And so I write such words
As murder, stab, kill
When people read these words
Misunderstanding they think I’m insane
But this is just how I vent
All my anger, frustration and pain
People that don’t know me
Think I look like a bad man
The people that say they do know me
Think I live the life of a madman
All of these things
Circling in my head
Sometimes I have to wonder
Would I be better off dead
I used to be a somebody
And my reputation would reflect
That I used to be a person
To look up to and respect
But now you can see
By the trembling in my hands
That all I am these days
Is a tired, broken man
When we fight
I want to run away
But there’s nowhere to go
But down, down, down
Your vicious tongue lashes thru my heart
As you beat me with your soul
And I want to run away
So far from you and this town, town, town
If I could just tell someone
I’m just a piece of trash
Would they help me or am I just all alone?
Metal and glass crash.
I never thought I could hate someone
Until I met your sadness
Evil never felt so bad.
You’re driving me too madness
Running, running away from you
To nowhere lasting
Screaming and nobody hears me
As my blood pours fasting
Please save me from this ilk.
I’m too weak to drink my milk
The time has come and gone my friend
I fear the near is coming to an end…help
With the open, naked eye,
Pure death approaches!
Incredibly hollow, kick the bucket long ago
No, whiff nor smell when “THE GHOST” is around.
Abuses the whiteness, in which exists inside these sheets.
It can be the cost and the reason of your overdose in question.
Go ahead and dig your own grave.
I have already commissioned your headstone.
You won’t be remembered,
The aftermath this GHOST creates, will leave you babbling, even in your crate.
This is that whiteness you do not want to feel or taste.
Once he or she was a nobody, is now “The Infamous Ghost!”
The one that lives within your ‘Indian Hollow Walls.’
The Ghost’ leaves heat behind in your room.
It prowls around, leaving you within a near death experience every night.
This' ghost left behind will wreak havoc on your soul,
Shh! Listen to your walls, they speak quite a bit.
Once you find yourself with broken wind, and watery eyes.
Do not think this is your maker in the process.
‘The Ghost’ with eyes so potent compels a numbing stare!
If there really is such a thing as reincarnation,
Then you had better think that this ghost was a ghost in its own past life.
‘The Ghost’ can have you breathing out tears so intense.
Leveling your entire room, with a moat surrounding your bedded kingdom.
Not even your frightened watery dripping eyes will salvage your soul.
Nothing will come in handy before you die.
‘The Ghost’ will incinerate on your obituary.
… It will read…
“There is nothing to Fear but Fear itself! “Said: Franklin D. Roosevelt!”
That, and the fear is all this fearless 'Ghost will leave behind.
It will have you thinking in rational fear.
Let the Deicide commence.
You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.
I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways
Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own personal reality
My work is over time to head on home
Made lots of money trading stocks on-line
I told my secretary she could leave
Askance my traders quid pro quo was fine
I entered elevator floor nine-teen
Pushed ground floor button number one then saw
Another door to lift laid opposite
Impossible, turned ready to withdraw
The Devil's Minion
Unable to escape the way I came
The capsule doors on other side agaze
Was drawn out by a large, dark silhouette
Inside a narthex three closed doors ablaze
I listened to malefic force within
Effulgent scuttles have distracted me
With ears submitting to an evil force
On knees established I forlornly see
The devil's minion utters chilling words
“You worldly man you face deserving death”
“You will be given one last stabbing choice”
“You get to choose a door with your last breath”
If there's a god I pray you save my soul
The dark and eldritch spirit yield a laugh
He said “each door is named must pick one now”
“Not fair” I said, he showed me golden calf
Door number one depicted the word ME
Door number two was written the word YOU
Door number three aglow with the word HIM
“What in the hell am I supposed to do ?
I looked at evil spirit's saber drawn
With my last breath I ran to a new dawn
In a strange
environment under gross
darkness and whispering
night,I found myself with
We walked an endless
journey across the
woods..eerie sounds we
heard,a crack! then the
undead resurrecting from
marshes,we ran seeking
These creatures howled
as they drew near with
deepened,I called out to
my friend a flesh eater he
Under the whispering
night I stood alone,
seemed the world stood
still,as these monsters
encircled me,I closed my
eyes wishing I was not
Suddenly,a bright light
zombies-then eerie noises
ceased, and the world
revolved once again.
A knock,I realized I
drifted to sleep as my
companion entered my
We zoomed off towards
the horizon under the