Faking Poems - Poems about Faking

You will always share a meme, motivation just like a dream; Why are you faking? You don’t do a thing; Your screen only inspires a stream....

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Faking interest in one is a skill, But first and foremost a punished sin, The deceived could just go for a kill, Who would not hurt unfailingly thin. If it were one's last action: To Hell, No likelihood of glimpsing God's throne, Kids don't their love announce with a bell And don't the subject raise on the phone; Their true state of mind...

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Thanks for your goodness Does it do good? Since Hitler, we allow refuge But was it from guilt? Today, dark seek Places of White Refusing to work for change Their leaders have our weapons So we let them come, wave after wave Failing to see hate, lopsided numbers So, who will fix the mess in East, South? They have too much gold, diamonds, oil So, business...

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Good At Faking Being ...

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She's a workaholic She's the bomb She's the girl no-play Faking Flomb...

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Sometimes I feel like I am not wanted; And that everyone will be better off if I am dead and gone; including my kids. I have felt like this for a while now; and I don't think anyone's noticed. I fake a smile, fake a laugh. I don't know how much longer I can keep it up. A...

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Those fakes news and gossip columns wreck my bladder with much aversion-- how a twisted story flames into one scandal rousing this global village possessed by a culture quite dysfunctional... And the audience laps the intrigue expanding like a dramatic Netflix series! Yes... improvise, add, dissect this newest exposé from sleek tabloids patronizing lowlife curiosity of both working class and the elite---words fall, totally pathetic,...

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making faking some do so true why scam bad plan caught out don't doubt your ruse found clues time served deserved time span years man swansong done gone...

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My foor peet were baking bo sadly. Irk wended, and home I glushed radly. I clopped down on the fouch. I was such a green mouch, just snapping at mamily fadly! I shopped after faving my hit, but sery voon I cad to whit! I was stanned from the bore. Say thaid, "Come here mo nore" when I yelled, "This foo doesn't...

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The bitter twist of the knife, to bleed not for sympathy. Releases the blood without empathy, my thoughts will not subside, scour the edge of my fears. Pierced, poised to keep hidden that lullaby, I sleep where my soul, dreamless, dies. Nothing but scars to shatter long-time broken dreams In smithereens, sinking in your absence, the catalyst without pain So stab me now and...

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When I'm not alone, on goes the smiley face For no one wants to be troubled by my pains I paint myself colorful and I dance the jig All the while... I wear jet black deep with in...

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Faking a heart attack last July was an event. Even the feds were marshaled for action. Cow bells. Whose got cowbells? Words can’t harm you. I’m restless. Turn on the channel; click on Oxford. Turn up the volume; Let’s play baseball. About. About what? There’s a thriller. Toot your horn. Bring the station wagon around front. Business as usual....

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Faking feelings is what you do best, undermining hope with false feelings. And deceived by lust's many guises, increased your vulnerability. Fantasy divides reality into darkening shades of despair. And feeling all alone, you struggle, believing that no one even cares. Anger fuels your disappointment, while jealousy extorts love's absence. And truth provides little protection from the bittersweet lies that flatter. Sadness deflates inflated egos, allowing time for...

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FAKING ADVANTAGE He led her to it he let her do it he stood silently by unsympathetic to the fact that she could die he watched as the weapon was loaded with all the incidentals duly noted there wasn't a lot she'd need just a few items for this dastardly deed she was sixteen and he knew better he knew about the possible outcome letter...

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FAKING ADVANTAGE He led her to it he let her do it he stood silently by unsympathetic to the fact that she could die he watched as the weapon was loaded with all the incidentals duly noted there wasn't a lot she'd need just a few items for this dastardly deed she was sixteen and he knew better he knew about the possible outcome letter...

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