You sleep in your silo day and night
Your systems ready for the flight
You have no conscious no heart no soul
You do not know the death you toll
You have no brain no mouth to say
You have no sage or god to pray
Your warheads primed for the fight
You do not know wrong from right
And as the minutes tick away
We await the deadly day
And when you wake the world will quake
And when you fly a race will die
So go to sleep for a thousand years
We all want peace and no more tears
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
BASIC NOT AS CREATIVE AS I IMAGINED.WANTED TO START OF SLOW AND END IN A BANG
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Your cut is deep like a knife
You take deep cuts on the side
Angling up toward the heart, your cut is deep
Cutting away all ties, your cut is deep
Cutting me was your thrill
You cut so deep, it killed…
You must be thrilled!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
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Author: Unknown
Joan of Arc, a humble shepherdess,
Who helped the French be free,
Was Burned at the stake in 1431,
Charged with Sorcery,
In 1884,
Pope Innocent the Eighth made a Bull,
Three Hundred Thousand to Two Million Burned,
Under this tyrant's rule,
A slaughter was started by two children,
The infamous Salem Witch Hunt,
In Massachusetts 1692,
Eighteen hung and one burnt,
Thou Shalt Not Kill,
A law that God did give,
But Exodus 18:22 states,
Suffer not a Witch to live,
Many people have lost their lives,
and from this what have we learned,
How our fore fathers and mothers endlessly chanted,
Burn Witch Burn.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
This Poem was my first poem dealing with historical facts.
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Author: Unknown
im sorrow im pain im sickness in vain through the lifeless soul im the rain im blackness maybe even insane today the blue sky fades and i go away
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2010
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Author: Unknown
The hurt cuts so very deep
a steady drop of blood slips away
the decency in humanity
to bare the sour face of hate.
The insults are hurled
like spears upon souls
feathers sliced at angles
sharpen the pain to take its toll.
Vicious scorn hidden beneath apathy
curled lips and narrowed eyes
dismiss a race with a nod.
Kick the earth with contempt
breaks forth the hell of fire
and the roar of one fist
shakes the fury of years bent
against the oppression laid
upon blooded backs unborn.
Never to end, never to cease
this pain, this cruel destiny.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2010
About this poem:
One word can cause pain.
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..................................
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2011
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Author: Unknown
death be thy name to harvest the darkness and the pain
through sorrow and only for you i do it all in vain
from the flames to a world that only ever rains
death be thy name to harvest the darkness and the pain
as far as sanity can reclaim death be thy name
thunder roaring through a winter glow
far off and forever inches of snow
cradle the flames to a new born with no name
death be thy name death be the end game
through solace and shame death be thy name
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2010
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'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2011
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Author: Unknown
when lights have gone out, and you lay in bed with doubt.
there's always a hidden nightmare.
making your skin shiffer.
wonder what you would do with your life.
looking forward, but don't find the guts to continue.
you're scrared, but you can't move.
you've got itchy bitchy spiders walking on you.
It doesn't helps now.
no medication no drugs.
you are left on your own in this dark night.
But if you would cry, and show pitty there in sollitude.
No one else would, atleast you can be honest with yourself.
Let fear crawl inside of you, but give it back to me.
cause I know what to do with it.
give those tears in your eyes some space,
let them walk out like dreamy water.
and look inside of that teardrops, and find your dreams.
you can only see my white teeth.
i'm invisible yet talking to you.
there's no need to worry, it's only worth worrieng yourself.
i'm not someone who takes in on your life.
mainly a dream character.
in real life you walk and run hard.
but in these dreamy landscapes you are delivered to your rem sleep.
it's at this state you feel most vulnerable.
weak or left behind.
but now you've gained your personal liberty.
Cause that's what every human being faces once when no friends or family are left.
you are on your own.
with good aqcuaintances left.
who wil form a new family
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2010
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Author: Unknown
life is in session and here i am
caught with my stubby pencil
taking notes in some shorthand i think i'll remember
only to be left with gibberish upon review
behind the wheel scribblin notes on my hand
mind is racing
a list of chores and calls and contacts to make today
i know darn well i wont complete even 3 of em
its just that kind of day(mushy in my head)
im not quite apathetic but i am definitely tardy
according to the office-
not enough motivation to be delinquent even
life is in session and im in the special class
feels more like the burn ward
gaping searing peeling stinking wounds
and hushed voices and looks of pity
so i ask for a hall pass for the lavatory
but i really just need to wander
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2010
About this poem:
man there is really somewhere this is trying to go
i think its character dialogue but im stuck -gaaaaaaaa!
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