Poems...


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Apnea

7:53pm Sep 12 2009

Normal User


Posts: 21

 

I just thought I'd throw a few on here to see what you guys think...

 

A Perfect Lie

Painted bliss with shades of the sun,
like a gift wrapped box containing a gun.
She lays, beautiful, peacefully at rest.
Wait, give that knife in her back one last twist.
Pretty little girl, eager to please.
Cough baby girl, spread that disease.
A smile full of hate,
A forced excuse too late.
She's angelic to the naked eye.
Mummys perfect little lie. 

Generous Venomous

I can not contain, nor do I wish to.
Excruciation, humiliation, defamation.
Disgust in you.
Disgust in your affiliation.

I excrete loathing at a skin searing pace.
Eyes fixate.
Sick, twisted words spew,
ordered to maim, laden in hate.

Dress up reality,
with a mockery of low self esteem.
Cover your brutality,
with a smile so serene.

How could a soul so 'generous',
deviate actions so venomous? 

Rainbows

And I don't want to be trapped indefinitely,
Though, you don't give me enough definites.
And I hate the thought of boundaries,
but you've crossed one,
by not crossing them.

If everything in the world was black and white,
Then I'd protest a sunset.

And if our minds were so alike,
We'd both be seeing rainbows.

Double Suicide

Two girls dead, the newspapers scream.
Double suicide,
They were only fifteen.
Blood on the wall,
Guns on the floor.
Blown away hopes and dreams,
Ambitions no more.
The paramedics come but say its too late,
The girls are dead,
They met their fate.

Double suicide the newspapers scream,
Two girls dead they were only fifteen.

The need to write..

The need to write. The need to express.
But what?
An infinity of thoughts, boundless emotions.
Brain firing, endorphins..
And to place a finger upon a specific,
that, in itself, is a new creation,
among countless variations.
Creativity lost in the science,
that forms solid boundaries,
smell, touch, sight, sound..
A barrier to my imagination,
itself an abomination.
Winding corridors of intimidation,
with lost rooms of magic,
boasting liberation, salvation..
Yet, whatever I lack to create,
I am, myself, my own creation.
A ball of m*censored* imitating,
a justified moral inhabitation.

 

Would love to hear any comments or critiques..! Also, I realised a lot of my poems contain more adult topics/words. So, if you're old enough and would like to see a few more, get in contact.




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