PASS THE TRASH
Poem sure to sound familiar,
Catholic church scandal recall.
Pedophiles bounced just everywhere,
predator list … kept growing tall.
Clergy, priest but now teachers, are
problematic in school classes!
“Passing the Trash” school’s call this, some
schools blind … wear rose colored glasses?
“Pass Trash” numbers are sicking,
News mentioning five principals,
three assistants, two hundred and
ninety teachers … unthinkable!
Abusers hide in school systems,
best you check, your community.
Parents advised to document,
what child tells you … or what you see.
Documentation need, check see
something matches accusations.
Be diligent, keep abusers
away from our daughters … and sons.
July 25, 2023 copyright
Contest:1232
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories:
sicking, child abuse, school, teacher,
Form: Rhyme
The blackness of my skin
Offend you
I ask why
Is there an answer
That could overshadow
The ignorant through
You let consume you
within your mind
Its sicking energy
Cold-hearted
A devil’s thought
To drag you to the darkness of hate
The difference can offend you
To compares people and things
Love can heal you
With understanding
There to side to every thought
It is the choice to live in the hate
Then to understand with love
Categories:
sicking, africa, anger, anti bullying,
Form: Free verse
The melanin in my skin
Offend you
I ask why
Is there an answer
That could overshadow
The ignorant through
You let consume you
within your mind
Its sicking energy
Cold-hearted
A devil thought
To drag you to the darkness of hate
The difference can offend you
To compares people and things
Love can heal you
With understanding
There to side to every thought
It is the choice to live in the hate
Then to understand with love
Categories:
sicking, america, anti bullying, black
Form: Free verse
forgotten issue
the innocent blood
still cries
only the ears
of the prophets
can testify to
this spiritually
the grave of
so many innocent
dead are no were to
be found
so it spirits remains
hanging in the air
sicking for Justice
till it could get a
peace
look back in the day
let picture those
days of wars
so many innocent
were left to lay
dry dead on the street
that was their end
is not fair
it does not
end there
it airs to air
for Justice
in the ear of
the prophets
they sounds
so depressed
in the words
of the prophets
they speak
with a warning
so to prevent
another dead
forgotten issue
Categories:
sicking, africa, care, humanity, irony,
Form: Epic
Legend of folklore
The potent thorn off the vine
Enchantress of seducing sexuality, hiding her true anima
A demon queen making you frightened, she is wicked
Lurking in the haunting darkness
She is nameless but so beautiful
Turning dreams to fear
Lying naked on her blossoming bed
Dwelling in hellified penetration
Succubus, Lilith of light
In the akin entering carvined ice, spreading the seed
This is are relationship in which I've made a sacrifice
She makes my body paralyzed
Unable to break free of it but it's what I have to do
Will I pay the price
She gives me what I want
I give her what I need
Controlling me
Tasting the vile sporn for her amusement
Till I'm reduced to a puppet screaming
Going down in flames to a wench
The sicking stiring
Signing on the dotted line
Making a deal in my own blood
Categories:
sicking, evil, fantasy,
Form: Free verse
(fact)
A father figure you trying to be.
Are you crazy, are you stupid
Jacque Andre is my father's name,
why would you want to be him.
For his one of a kind mentally crazy.
your freakage life style doesn't run in my family
Not by the second,nor by the minute.
Who in the world would be attracted to they own family.
It's disgusting and gross, I think I will vomit.
Loving your family is one thing.
But to pass beyond that boundaries is sicking as can be.
That type of love is not a love a parent can forfil.
So to try to be a father figure from being just a men.
I think you have a problem and it's not me.
Categories:
sicking, corruption, men, nonsense,
Form: Free verse
IF love was a birthing breach, cover, shelter, linear me back home
Was I suppose to pronounce my present's
(Closure)
If passion is a sure shore the water count every blessing we are
Running knee high to safety
(Page)
If a protest gather like minds and with in meaning all was lost would
You stand by my side
(Wait)
If for sicking or wealth bread or cost of meal would we sit to
Gather or din together to richest to wealth
(Wealth)
If income is not a true factor is support link in miles or years on average
(Love)
If love is not staying up all night first to heat the car and last to eat then
Tell me why is it hard to found a good mate I say all in good time and faith
A note to a desk.
Categories:
sicking, art, love,
Form: Dramatic Verse
The more i write the more i think i learn but its in turn the least that i know. The stories are presented before the face of the author. The permanent bleeding's bled into the paper, a life time since the discovery wonders of the writings of my former self the tale that could have been spun. To sit back and piece the contentions is to only drift further away from the sanity of the destruction. To flirt with the tiny notion of a better life with the same demons of yesterdays is madness. For one to wonder the purpose of them is sicking to the soul, still we question the existence of every day from day light to dusk. The holidays something to experience but the curse returns of the song of the reality if it means alot to you rings threw my song of life once again only to make me question why is it some kinda game for me to toy with the empty void once again
Categories:
sicking, absence, abuse, allusion, analogy,
Form: Free verse
loving you isn't easy
im scared that i might fall to deeply into you
become stuck
but for some reason i just cant get enough
harsh words
tears seemed to have ran dry
is it worth so much pain
for little doses of pure love
when its good its great
i feel as if we are one
like i can do anything
its love so sweet its almost sicking
loving is too much work for one person
Categories:
sicking, lovelove,
Form: Free verse
An unforgettable
father you are,
As if you left me
trapped in a glass jar.
Not much space to
see what i please,
Lord please cure me
from this sicking disease.
Disease of hurt and pain,
As deceitful thoughts of you
float through the brain.
Days you missed
i cant forget,
Left out in the rain
all cold and wet.
My graduation
how could you,
No excuses yet
I'm not through.
A card, balloons,
you showing up,
Would have over
turned my cup.
What going on
I'm confused,
Why is it that i
Have to be abused?
I don't know what to say
Cause these things bother,
The thoughts of you
and unforgettable father.
Categories:
sicking, childhood, confusion, father, life,
Form: Rhyme