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Just a ThoughtYou know the irony of life
is that you have these dreams and ideas
about where you want to be,
but once you get there
you start to dream about where you came from,
where you’ve been.
I suppose that’s part of the circle of our lives,
like the hands of a clock going round.
If only we could wind it back
and return to a time when the dream first began,
we might find
it really wasn’t all that important
to begin with.
Mindless HeartstringsCut my heartstrings
Toy with my mind,
Hide me from the world,
By turning me blind.
Chemical ReactionPoint a gun to my head or force me to bleed
Everyone has something to believe
The drunk and alone
If your passionate your also stoned
Either your alive or dead or just hanging by a thread
Life has the point all you need is the direction
Satisfaction is key to distraction
Shots ring out are you ready for death or a chemical reaction.
This legal demonstration and fixed frustration is only the beginning
Total annihilation in this severed mind.
What's left behind in my subconscious
Blind are my eyes that can't see the details
The scrips that portray the story
Books get you hooked on knowledge and the murder she wrote.
Noticing MeEvery night,
I cry myself to sleep.
And while I sleep,
I dream that I’ll be noticed,
Not shut off in a cage,
I dream that I’m full of joy,
Not full of rage.
But when I wake up,
In the morning, hoping,
That my dream was reality,
I find myself not coping.
So I close myself away,
And I listen to sad songs,
And I’m ignored by all,
All day long.
I call for my mum,
And she answers, but doesn’t reply,
So I bury myself away,
And inside, I cry.
When my friends call for me,
But ignore when I’m there,
I wonder if I should blank them,
But never would I dare.
Maybe I’m too soft,
Free SoulLiving pure,
That is how I want to be.
A wild bird in the trees,
Doing by all means
No matter what, I must not die.
I will take on
Everything and everyone.
I will take on myself,
Force the past off of the shelf.
I will free myself of my mind,
Which once again has left me behind.
And I will finally end this pain,
For once, I will let it rain.
The rain can clean the stains,
And wash away the pains
Of loneliness and suffering,
The product of never-ending falling.
I will let my heart become one
With my soul, now I will run my own show.
I will make bad choices,
I will not listen to the voices,
I can finally breath easy,
Knowing my path is not as windy.
Finally, I can live purely.
Without this past, I can live freely.
This is how I've always wanted to be,
I'm a wild bird in the trees,
Surviving by all means.
And no matter what, I will not die.
Because my soul will always be alive.
Poetry On The WallsNobody wants
To hang poetry on their walls
the heavier lines
and the word soaked walls
and be pained
like a poets pen does
When a poet's heart rains
The poet starts writing
finding insightful sightings
into the poets own mind
though the feeling
is a lonely one
and the reeling
and won't come undone
if the words of the poet
they will show it
And the world will know
It can't be slowed
To accommodate those
Left behind in a pile
Of wavering words
Either gentle or vile
Words of love
Or words of life
Become something of
A struggle to stifle
The muddled mouth's attempts
To bend a lies rival
Arms Like CanvasI don't know your name.
Only the hate lines on your wrist,
the story-lines you write there,
the hints everyone has missed.
I'm sorry we've all crushed you,
let your halo fall,
My head hangs here in shame,
as I speak for humanity, for us all.
It's a sick, sad world,
when 15 can be the last year.
When faggot, worthless, and fatass are thrown around like salutations,
as we drown in a sea of hushed prayers and fear.
A pencil's life A Pencil's life
I sit on the shelf,
Day by day.
I wait for someone to pick me up,
But I don't see anyone coming.
new pencils arrive,
and I only get pushed to the back.
It's the 19th of August,
And almost time for school,
It's the time where most pencils get picked,
I just sit and wait
for another year to go by.
I'm the last one on the shelf,
And it's almost time for school,
Someone has picked me up.
They take me home,
And put me away,
So that I am ready for the first day!
I am excited!
I am restless!
I can't wait for tomorrow.
It is finally morning,
And I am ready,
to take on what comes at me.
I was sharp,
But now I'm dull.
I can't wait for the next day to come.
Once I'm sharpened,
I'm ready to go,
Ready to take on more challenges.
runrun and run and run
until the day is done
you cannot overcome
the setting of the sun
but when the world's away
and when the mice do play
then you and I will stay
away for ever and a day.
so run with me and run
until we see the sun
away from the ravage of time
until you are with me and mine
To pierce the veil of nightA weary worn traveler strung out from miles of life’s highway stream
I am an unwilling an endless sojourner racing blindly toward the veil of night, a chance to dream. Adrift in the surreal tunnel-visioned plane of nascent sleep, I lay down, a dog-tired sailor upon the lissome luxury of satin sheet.
Pestiferous feelings of loneliness fervidly plague weighing an already heavy mind, as dreams whisk me away on yet another journey of a different kind. Now lavishly adorned in the velvet cloak of night, I embark a swift winged spirit upon unconscious flight.
Paroxysms of longing grow ardent with each passing night, as my hearts appetenc
Acheyep yep the veil is us
yet yet they fail the trust
next step betrayal is dust
next says the cable is cut
PolarThere are days when I want to
scream with the might of the world and
until I can no longer feel my legs.
Days where I want to make
or go on a life-changing journey;
create memories that I will
someday tell my children about.
These are the days
when the world is infinite
and nothing is impossible.
However, there are some days
that I feel nothing,
and there is no greater urge in the day
than to lay down,
curl up in a ball,
Her Name is Misery.I saw a girl today with red marks on her arms,
that match the scars on mine.
I asked her for a spare story,
she laughed and said, "I'm fine".
I saw her waver,
I saw her smile falter a bit.
She needed friendship,
but didn't know what to make of it.
So I sat there,
In a crowded room of two.
I listened to her raindrops,
and her stories of people so cruel.
Now, I chronicle her,
so you all can see.
Her tale of lonely sunlight,
and how cold this world can be.
A poem from Count EndI will appear in your deepest and darkest fears.
When you scream.I shall always appears.
I always want you all to suffer more.
Your puny lives are nothing nevermore.
I have created the void.
so you will always avoid.
when I'm around your never safe!
Even in a protected place.
and you will suffer....
Keep in Touch!
`ChewedKandi has certainly gone out of her way to keep the vector community on the right path. Always making sure that her talents are infinitely scalable, Sharon has put her bezier curves to excellent use, and firmly anchored herself as an inspirational leader. We're absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for June 2013 to `ChewedKandi. Congratulations, Sharon! Read More