The faces in photos,
become the darkness,
behind a back-alley
of this dark street,
her virginity
is your ecstasy
A wish upon
a wrong star.....
Falling for
little girls
of innocence,
not wishing
for your
slaying here.....
Her colors
become drained
as your urges
so strongly
build to a lost shepherd
becoming a demon.
A victim
is now
the monster,
of your urges,
proud of this?
Children of the Gaza,
How do you strive to survive?
Children of the Gaza,
Why aren't your struggles amplified?
Children of the Gaza,
Can you hear my voice?
Children of the Gaza,
Tell me, are you still alive?
Young souls, being killed everyday,
"Babies aren't meant to be here", they say,
There's a horrifying, terrified sound 2 year olds make,
Hearing the sound of planes.
Being fed water instead of milk,
Where has your baby formula been?
Being thrown bombs over your heads,
Is this how months olds are supposed to be fed?
Voices struck in their throats,
Bloody and hoarse,
Lost in the noise of destruction,
Panic attacks and starved stomachs.
What did they do to deserve,
To be born in the middle of the war?
Why do harm to an innocent child
Because you want to steal
Their young souls and spirit or take
Advantage because they're
Young and helpless
Plotting to cause them pain
Just because you have a sickness
Get some help or replace your
Sick desires with prayer and stay away from
Innocent children
when the eyes that are the sky start to open and cry the thunder, and clouds comfort me like a cozy lullaby
I love the thunder the screams of nature from the pain of nature.
I love the thunder it holds me close although sometimes I shake in fear from the howling
I'm surprised yet not hurt scared but not seen
Even though I am scared and quite shaken the love for thunder will never weaken
I'm surprised yet scared of you when you yell and cry, but I've never thought that it could be cause from something in your eye
stir.....
fallen,
arms
so flapping
begins.....
A pan-cake
morning,
no broken
of glasses
just buttery
and
delights...
fear....
begins
where
and much
before
the ghosts
disappeared
I chalk out
the fades,
of an
entrance
to Hades...
It appears,
where
the left eye
is purple
and swollen......
A glorious day,
of buttery and kisses
a rare sweet moment
that I refuse to descent.....
Water will defuse the flame...
I understand the blame
Continuous shame
No hiding under tables,
fast forward to this tavern
It rains in havens
and on sundays
Angels dripping wet,
in best dresses
free flowing
sharp sky glowing
a rainy heavenly
I looked into
eyes,
darkened
to bruises
and
being thrown
as you
go blind
to concussion.
Being thrown
and strangled
by no
a stranger
but
he never knew
why
so
mischievous
your pockets.
Slapped
across
the face
for
marking
with
the wrong pen...
I made friends
with this devil
and stubborn-ed
his abuse
into the full
of witness abuse
As a child,
I never knew,
but I did
and grew...
once no obtuse.....
I used a charm
of reverse
psychology
of his anger
in the skies,
I mellowed
like ice cream
of cones......
6 People killed in one weekend
Just like that their lives end
The gangs laugh all the way
They will never stay out of your way
The gangs are fierce and unscrupulous
To kill someone is for them a plus
It is in the gang’s territory
You will only become a memory
The gangs rob, rape, and kill
For the families it’s like a bitter pill
The gangs get order to kill at will
Or the boss will order on them a kill
The bosses’ rules with an iron fist
You disobey them you on the death list
If the gangs have financially lost
It will be your life and cost
That’s why the gang kills people without blinking
They do not want to be the ones sinking
The boss sees this
To him it’s bliss.
Killing as many people as it takes
These are very high stakes
The gangs do what is takes
In this case it was killing that it takes
Dezi Freeman we are told killed two police
Wounded another, disturbing much peace'
Took a woman hostage and three kids
Message from the media, who from the police
Get their bits.' Meanwhile they hold Mali and
Consider her charging.yet she was not a hostage and where
It was said.' Not really clarity enlarging, how were
The kids treated after a fearfull experience' just thinking it through
Dezi was taking Andrews ex- state premier to
The law court.' He's an lgbt advocate? Of some
Sort..Rumours of child abuse historical they say'
Is Andrews extra squeeky clean.? He's been
Around anyway..Didn't he have a collision a young
Boy on a bike, reported 45 minutes later, drove off
Then back.? So some claim.' And that they do not
Like' will Mali be able to keep the children? Ir have
There been subtle threats? Comply or they'll be taken? I wonder what will come out next.?
this is a comma ,
this is an apostrophe '
this is an ampersand &
and this is an asterisk *
lol. get click baited.
there isn't no poem.
just me.
and you.
and your thoughts.
hmm...
I have an idea!
how about a game?
duck, duck, goose, how about that?
no? ok
just comment your favourite, food.
yeah, good enough game.
ok, get commenting.
I'm off.
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
ok bye.
bible
slime block!
thy worldith isith thy canvasith.
thy painterith thy paintith.
thy poetith, makeith thy poetith.
thy worldith thy endith.
chickenith jockeyith.
There's a ghost,
since my child-hood,
seen them floating
in my bed-room
when I was seven....
They never scared me,
but they just floated
in repetition,
and they had this
look of horrendous
of torturous.....
I don't believe
as I can't ever feel,
when the seeds
never grew to boil,
and weeds take the toll
and neglect is a toil,
You tried hard and never,
gave up on how its severed,
my knife to my heart
my own dreams ripped apart
The photographs
break me like a
dam that is overflowing,
I imagine not, the sickness
of this second sight
of my imagination,
seeing only
humiliation
and a burden
spared as a child.....
Not cast into the wild,
but couldn't stray
after my mother's
brutal beatings
and like a loving pup,
I still unconditionally....
Hell streaks of a shower curtain
bleeding,
and the alcohol and drugs worsen
a feeding
to my veins already
reddening.
I love you,
on the best days
like my birthday.
bruises don't
cover up lies,
just his Alibi,
falsest of his
burning tree
and the brave
of little hands
reaching out
to any angels
listening here,
stop my abuse,
here of dearest.
HOME IS NOT SAFE.
Take my name!
It’s twisted connotations left me long ago.
Take my clothes!
They move on my body like tides of the moon
hanging in hollow spots filled by promises forgotten long ago.
Take my money!
The dirtiest thing man has ever invented! Paper bills touched by power and sickness all at once.
Take my time!
Filthy hours strung together like christmas lights held by wires of illusion and illumination.
Take my freedom!
Thorny vines break the skin with tendrils of relief and quiet thorns that tell me my mom really did love me.
Just dont take my high.
It was Sister Francine
who treated us so mean.
She’d rap us on our knuckles
with the Father’s belt buckles
toiling to keep our sin-loving souls clean.
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