UntitledI see you with both eyes, Rightly for remembrance,Left onto my brain,The soothing sights sex of appeal,With a hint of internal pain.
UntitledWithin the night there is a somber relevance. No ears to pull in the sound of nonsense. No eyes for seeing the darkest of plights. Breathe slowly, follow your dream,Wherein you cannot seem,To find out how to get out.
UntitledIf I could contest to how I behave, I would say I am on equal levels,To that if a worn down slave.Tired and hungry. Depressed and confused. Full of the worry,Of my political views. You cannot judge a slave to Gods. You cannot hold one against all odds. One little slave cannot hold their own, Against a power that controls our home. I'll price my head and sell my soul,To something bigger than I'll ever know. And as a profiter, You should fully grow,Take this simple truth,And please, Let me go.
UntitledPrecariously you promise peace.No prize for sensational summaries.Submit to the host of hostility,An heiress of little to no hospitalities.
UntitledConsistent hindrance to my abilities,The never ending lack of love,Force me to stay a part of your facilities,Because you can stand what I've become.
UntitledHearsay and the price of gabblingDebt the ears and the mindCreate a proof, unrewardingAnd point out the simple lies.
UntitledFeed a mind with a mouthful,Spoil the brain rotten whole, Glutinous retched putrid mind,Gurgles grunts and mumbling lies,Eat and swallow bits of the pie,Eat and die,Eat and die,Eat and die.
UntitledFacebook friends,Are you for real? Are you absolutely, unequivocally real?If not, I'll have to revelTo the order of which you cannot appeal. You are so sick, and so intertwined,That no one will be left behind"Join the Facebook status" you sayWith blithe and glee from the price you pay. There is no outstanding prize for conformity,And no great way, better than to say,Stay away from Facebook And other social media, Or else, continue to be at it's dismay.
UntitledThese cigarets I smoke won't kill me,Not until I die of inhalation at eighty-three.No, this stress of the world will throttle me,Choke and pile on anxiety,Push with force until can no longer breathe. No, a fear of futures,Clear and undeniable reapers,Full false-hearted preachers,Fend for their fake teachers,Fables and tales told arrogantly,Each of them will be the end of me
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