.I cryso othersdon't have to
writers blockI have writers block.I don't know when it cameOr how, I just knowThat it appearedJudging, telling meMy work was patheticPathetically awful, incapableOf making someone's bad dayTurn goodI tried riding of it of itBy telling it to go, andThat I didn't need itBut I was ignored.I tried using a friend of mine,Hate, yelling and screamingAnd abusing the block.Silly me, I forget it hasNo feelings.I try to throw it away, hopingIt gets run over,But I can never catchThe writer's block.It's safe to say... Nothing worked.Have I been defeated by thisDevastating force? Do I giveUp, and take up sports instead?No. That's not me.So I sit down in front of myComputer, and I write. I writeWonderful, pointless nonsense.The click-click-click of the keysMakes the block crumble, knowingIt's criticism has no effect.As the block erodes, it screams out one finalProtest, until it's finally gone.My computer screen is filled withGarbage words, imprinted on.Satisfying nothing,Amaz
."i have a boneto pick with you"Really?which one, andwhy is it sobad to you?
.Rhapsody queenMusic's growlchords all prowlsurrounding soundnever held groundA roar, a screama distorted dreamthe nightmare songNo right, no wrong,Music play itsonly tune, callingbeastsIt's too soon
.Torrents swayIn the chaoticair, hanging hopeErode, despairskin worn downspine and bonewhatever I lovedI loved alone.
.What we sayand what wemean are twodifferent things
."You aren't being yourself"YourselfWho's thatAnd why isShe better thanI am
.You gave me wingsThey turned to stoneYou gave me hopeI'm still aloneI followed ordersLike you told me toEndless struggleAlways more to doI've got everything;Glory, money, butI was still left emptyTell me: Now what?
.Be the beastin the monster'sclosets
a conversation with Uncle SamWould you rather it be us or them?I say next question please as if to loosen the noose my tongue has becomeand You say speaking of, all good things come with a price and I try my hardest not to disagree.Faith is the ultimate form of patriotism so I stand up a little taller as military jets fly overhead and baptize the sky with their presence.You say the best defense is a good offense. But what about the bombs? The fat boys and little men we scatter with soft voices and big sticksand You just smile that smile,and by now I feel that the silence is somewhat appropriate. We drop bombs because we all want to feel a little more like god sometimes, and what can be more American than that?
Yes, I Have a PenisYes, I Have A PenisDo not assume (if I hold the door for you),that I am making a statementabout your inabilitiesto open the door for yourself.If you hold it for me,I'll say 'thankyou'.Do not assume (if I pay for the meal),that I am underestimatingyour earning capacityas a woman.If you invite me out for a meal,you're paying.Do not assume (if I defend your rights),that I am belittlingthe attempts that you have madeto defend your rights yourself.If you defend my rights,I'll consider you human.
It Is Bad to Be [READ DESCRIPTION]It is bad to be fat, too skinny, average, curvy.Blonde = Stupid, Black = Emotional, Brunette = Boring, Red = Soulless, Colorful = Too CreativeIt is bad to be gay, trans, heterosexual, lesbian, asexual, pansexual, demisexual, bisexual, etc.It is bad to be Christian, atheist, Catholic, Agnostic, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Polytheistic, Monotheistic, etc.It's bad to be a different race:Black = Dirty or Nigger, White = Racist or Cracker, Hispanic/Latino/Latina = Illegal, Asian = AlienIt is bad to be a woman, man, or genderless.It is bad to be homeless, middle class, rich.There is a judgement for every single personWhether you believe prejudice people do not exist, or do exist.Whether you believe you are not good enough, or too good for anybody.Whether you believe humans are created equal, or not.Whet
unthey call me tide-breaker.my name frequentswhores' mouths,and they speak of mebetween the sailors' maps.I am salt and brinebeneath fingernails,the oncoming threatof dark clouds that hangtheir gallows above the ocean.I'm the enigma,the split-secondflash of lighton the sea's cusp;they only ever thinkthey see me,but I am always there.oh yes,I've seen theirdirtied skin,their weathered faces,that lustful thirstin the eyes of men surrounded by water.it is only natural, I suppose,for those bound in chainsto grow fond of the metallic clacking.it becomes all they have.and I, well,I am only hereto watch and play my part.their wives at homewill look seawardand sighand wonderbut it is Iwho will have someone to hold.they say mermaidsdrown unworthy sailors,but they never acknowledgethat most men simplythrow themselves overboardat the temptation of something beautiful.
True StrengthLies Not In Body or Mind.For physical Strength is fleetingand will wane with age.The Mind eventually becomes flaccid and memories ultimately fade.It lies not with just heroes and dare I say villains, but civilians like me and like you.Because no matter the situation, however subtle or brutal, all that matters is the struggle, the fight that let you come to be.How you weathered against the prevailing storm or the soft lapping waves,you determine who you are.That is true strength:Choosing your own destiny.
Brown Eyes Compliments, and AnalogiesBecause I'm sick of people saying there aren't any.Your brown eyes are like the deep intoxication of campaign wine, bubbling with hazing richness and expensive taste.Your brown eyes are like the color of mahogany wood- comforting and home-steady toughness that lets me know you will be the beams of supporting me.Your eyes remind me of Dove chocolate, smooth, creamy, delectable, and melting.The color of brown eyes remind me of mountain terrain and nature, something subtle, but beautiful in every form and season.Brown eyes make me think of Devil's cake, taunting and tempting, curtained by black lashes, the symbol of rich seduction.When brown eyes delve in love, they become the color of a leather book, promising a story of loyalty, long-life, and devotion.Your brown eyes remind me of mysterious secrets, dark to cover the pain of ignorance, opaque to cover to want of another.Brown eyes are like the stable ground, steadier and prepared to embrace you when you fall, into a nurturing a
.You don't feel fastuntil they slow youdown;