Having a run, but not in hand,
Excited for I know my prize is grand.
It’s time to draw, but not from the deck,
I drew too much, now my figure’s a wreck.
Making lines, my soul further in debts,
I add more lines, I like placing bets.
Instead of pounds, I use my own,
A little more cautious, now down to the bones.
A little on edge, for my cover mustn’t be blown,
Acting as stoic as possible,
Expression like stone.
I try and do my best bluff,
But maybe I didn’t try hard enough.
I might tap-out, for luck’s not in my favour,
My turn is overdue, I should’ve signed that waiver.
Knowing if I lose, the cost will be major,
But I’m not too scared,
For my life is something I often wager.
I'm nobody
An empty face
Nothing here anymore
Just a blank space
Wandering the world
Alone and afraid
I catch my reflection
As I watch myself fade
There's nothing inside me
Just an empty black hole
My heart doesn't beat
It's just a charred lump of coal
The world doesn't want me
My family is tired
My friends walked away
Left me fighting this fire
I'm screaming so loud
But not being heard
Slowly fading away
Till I fly Like a bird
Liar liar
Pants on fire
That's what you all will say
Unless your pretty
Or cool and witty
Or have enough money to pay
Your on your own
Like a dog with a bone
Fighting an invisible beast
Followed by trainers
Who say there not haters
Like jesus at the last feast
Liar liar
Tongues on fire
That's what you all said
You don't even know me
One day you'll see
Why you don't wish people dead
Please don't send me home
It's scarier out there
The world is just too loud
It's too much for me to bear
Please don't send me back
Where everyone is mad
Where no-one understands
And tells me that I'm bad
Please don't make me go
Where I am all alone
I'm begging for you all
Please don't send me home
I promise I'll be good
If you let me stay
I'll fall in line and smile
Every single day
Please don't send me home
I think I'd rather fry
I don't think I'll survive
Don't send me there to die.
I used to dream when I was young,
I would remove all of the thorns
of the most beautiful flowers
and place them in her hair,
lovingly,
Innocence is cute, its so divine,
then you grow up not so fine,
that girl you knew as a child,
can't even remember her name,
sadly,
There's a loneliness to every soul,
eating alone in a popular food court,
they may enjoy the meal, cooked well,
but in the end, solitary doesn't taste as good,
and love declines as the demon in you climbs
and now you realize, its a tragic fairy-tale
and now the large world appears small
and insects on your skin now crawl,
The realization,
it makes you sick,
now, floating past the jetty,
the strands of her hair.....
If quantum mechanics were understood,
and black hole singularities, space-time,
and gravity's well swallowed in a flood,
would bend to genius effort of this rhyme,
instead, might solve a wicked delusion:
that I am Center of the Universe.
If the Bell Curve, for IQ, ends confusion,
then my so-called “god-hood” status, a curse,
permits the information paradox,
a test, to irradiate my manic strain,
turning Schrödinger's Cat into a fox,
collapsing my wave-function to Planck domain.
What now remains, is for me to theorize:
will this strange rhyme win me a Nobel Prize?
comfort in bleeding
scars are for life,
and buries the weeds
for a short time, any-way....
I chase shot glasses in dreams,
instant of gratification,
it just leads to lowly shadows,
Maturity to ends and the hows....
before the humanity
is worse than a travesty...
I respect the dead with bows..
I chase my guilt with your rape
A pretend hero who wears a cape,
nothing more than an imposter here
trying to drive a stake with fears.
It feels like a lock
Click
slamming shut on a door
I used to walk through without thinking.
Words
they pile up inside me.
Not gone.
Not lost.
Just trapped.
Like a river swelling
against a dam
that will not break.
My mouth is stone.
My body
heavy.
And every attempt to speak
is like running in a dream:
legs sinking,
distance endless,
the finish line
always just out of reach.
Inside, I am screaming.
Inside, I am whispering.
Inside,
I am still me.
But you can’t hear me.
Because the silence is thick.
Not empty, no.
Thick with frustration,
thick with shame,
thick with the ache
of wanting
so desperately wanting to be understood
without having to explain.
So don’t rush me.
Don’t push me.
Stay.
Wait with me
in the quiet.
Because this silence
is not absence.
It is survival.
It is my body saying:
enough.
And when I return
when my voice crawls back
know this:
I was never gone.
I was always here.
Behind the glass.
Behind the lock.
Still me.
Always me.
His rants will our freedom stifle
The lives of others a trifle
The lies Trump expounds
Sound like lethal rounds
Shot from Don's mouth like a rifle
I declare this little body.
My Substance –
Unholy sanctuary for little thoughts,
The only place for night’s retire
To draw the curtains – growing hair.
Wired to lofty beams by absence,
Drug of setting sun –
Now bed I a sanctuary of echoes,
Resounding in the lonely core,
I am become the nightmare walking.
I am Creature –
Who creeping, peoples,
This unbroken dawn.
Then suddenly it stops –
The mind of much –
But not enough –
It stops to pause in thought.
And blinking by a lifetime,
The thought pause never stops –
I dragged this cig, my brain went far gaga,
The same cigarette brand that brought me joy;
A puff, and I slipped into a pooh-Bah,
One short drag became enough to destroy.
My legs wobbled, the world around me spun,
I heaved heavily, yet relief slept still;
The fun I sought had never yet begun,
In its stead, I commenced a mental drill.
As I puffed a new *** to chase a fad,
Deeper curiosity did arouse.
How can a mere cigar torture so bad,
A dream taught me the thought in intense drowse.
Later I learned the cig was laced with crack~
The closest I came being a junkie;
That pal later picked madness in bump's track,
Why I never became a crack flunkey.
I don't know why I write,
when my mind
is a Rubik's cube,
and I feel inside
hollow through-out
like a carved
cliche pumpkin.
I'm blinded
with myself,
so I can't even
help myself.
I have only
my brother's
pick me ups,
light as a feather,
and I can
write again,
to my pretend God,
to who I wasted
away with my eyes
straying from his.....
A 6 pack of beer,
followed
by ciders on days
not even weekends.
I wish I could venture,
outside to the world.
Truth seeker,
hunting the hunter
or the huntress
eccentric poets
bizarre motives,
but interesting
and fascinating.
Unwrap that string
so tangled in knots,
future teller of
which it brings,
a day seller
a night calmly sings.....
Pretentiously
and weirdly
My poetry
brings fools
to their knees,
Am, I cool?
A fascination,
morbidly
and curiously?
I am the double agent
Don't mess with me
How are you with long walks
At night through the park
Where shadows pepper the imagination
And thoughts flow on
With nothing to hold them back?
I love to take those walks in the dark
Both alone and with my friend,
Deep through our mind
To visit lost images,
Memories that live in the shadows,
Remnants of the past.
Do we remain in the shadows
Where my friend with knowledge dwells,
Or do we bring to light those images,
Reviving older times now asleep,
Permitting them a chance to escape?
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