Causes and Affects
Not into that community madness thing.
You know...
The kind that unifies with speeches for peace,
Two hours after a fresh drive by?
Complete with domestic violence,
And silent prayer vigils.
With tear stained faces...
To mask the commonplace,
Disrespect and self neglect!
Somehow...
Those re-inactments,
Squeezes from me...
Every last dropp of joy I have.
For a round of aging sentiments?
Complete with Bible thumpers...
Singing hymns with scriptures preached.
And these same folks can't speak to me,
When they pass me on the streets?
Someone's not receiving the message,
And what can and should be done!
To 'overcome'!
But guess whose steps moves away from this mess!
Divorced and totally agitation free?
Appealing to my peace of mind...
I find belongs to me these days!
Can you see in my eyes the absence of 'craze'?
I wish I could share with you more of it.
But it took too long to arrive.
And I value that...
Much more than recycled efforts!
Truth in reassessment!
That's my daily affirmation!
And your approach...
Has problems dealing with the causes and affects,
Of a perfected ignorance!
If folks don't wish to know...
Or care about their own growth.
How many marches do you think it will take...
For them to locate an identity that unifies,
An acceptance of self?
Before or after 'Lifting Every Voice in Song'?
It is rumored,
Harriet Tubman only had a flashlight,
To lead folks out of the darkness!
Today...
Everyone has a cellphone.
And 'still' can not comprehend,
A text message sent!
And I rush to get a monthly bus pass,
To keep it real and freshly communicated.
With...
'Commuters'?
Exactly!
And free of surcharges.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Put a Sock In It
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Many getting sick of the pickiness started.
And when it gets sticky they can not stop.
Instigating agitation with annoyance.
Dropping all they've got to tie a mind in knots.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Can't you see them strike poses and begin to 'cheese'.
Then plop on their knees,
To make their pleas.
These same folks cry about bad luck.
With claims their butts are stuck in ruts.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Today there is just too much stuff.
And people are getting fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Folks have had enough,
And fed up!
Put a sock in it,
Maybe this will rush a hush.
Folks have had enough,
And fed up!
Folks have had enough.
Folks have had enough.
Folks have had enough.
And fed up!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When I Am In My 'Me' Zone
When I am in my 'me' zone...
That's what it is,
All about me!
I hear some folks say,
How selfish that is.
And they seem to be the ones...
With their hands out.
Seeking others to give.
And after years of being drained,
By others who complain.
I've learned,
Over time...
My own happiness,
I had to maintain.
Since few could care less about that!
And I've observed happy people,
Carrying less burdens on their backs.
And there is something about 'that'
That keeps me attracted.
When I am in my 'me' zone...
That's what it is,
All about me!
And it is not a question of being selfish.
It's more like identifying a peace of mind,
I can qualify as mine.
Since some folks seem to be victimized...
By guilt.
If they are not constantly in a giving mode!
Receiving is part of it!
And I am in full acceptance.
Prepared and ready to share.
Free from being depleted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Well Knit Organization
Go ahead.
Keep up that brave front.
Mask your emotions...
To prove how strong you are.
Keep your pain to yourself.
And guess what happens?
Something is going to crack.
Those who believe,
To keep things hidden and inside themselves...
Is okay?
And showers upon them admiration and respect.
Have already provided clear signs of dysfunction.
These folks will know everything and nothing at all.
They are there for 'everyone' else...
Trying to smooth the rough edges of other folks' lives.
And can not discuss the truth going on within themselves.
They will embellish it by becoming defensive.
But they are really a mystery within themselves.
They hide behind their agonies with a sense of humor.
I know!
Trust me.
Go ahead.
Keep up that brave front.
Mask your emotions...
To prove how strong you are.
Keep your pain to yourself.
And guess what happens?
Something is going to crack.
Trust me...
I know too well about that!
That kind of mindset was handed down to me.
But I gave that crap right back.
I learned too early in my life,
To keep my eyes on some folks!
And that's why it is easy for me today,
To identify those who lie to themselves...
And produce their own heartbreak.
I use to sympathize with them...
Before I discovered,
This was a well knit organization.
With folks soliciting on a daily basis.
And was nationally recognized!
They did not need another member.
It was not discussed.
That was determined.
These folks schedule their activities,
Around their doctor appointments.
So that gives one a clue...
Reality is not a hot topic with this bunch!
Noooo buddy! Not with them.
Folks like that...
Will never snap out of it.
Just hope you are not around them,
When their minds begin to crack!
After the affects of Prozac has worn off.
And their eyes have an unfocused glaze!
This may happen without warning...
So pace yourself slowly to the nearest exit!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Where to Bathe and What to Eat!
Some choose to mask their insecurities,
By use of excuses and insults...
To reduce feelings of insignificance.
As if this shallowness exposed,
Replaces the obvious imposed.
Those of strength are labelled arrogant.
Those of identity are often tagged nonconformists.
And on the other hand those living their lives,
On a daily basis...
Doing what they can to survive.
Could care less whose ego thrives,
Seeking to be massaged...
By another round of bravura.
Pampered in the approval of lies!
There are folks living on our streets,
Trying to figure out how to shelter themselves.
Where to bathe and what to eat!
Those of strength are labelled arrogant.
Those of identity are often tagged nonconformists.
There are folks living on our streets,
Trying to figure out how to shelter themselves.
Where to bathe and what to eat!
And on the other hand those living their lives,
On a daily basis...
Doing what they can to survive.
Could care less whose ego thrives,
Seeking to be massaged by another round of bravura.
Pampered in the approval of lies!
Just to nibble on sweetened pretentions.
To share from a vacuous hollowness!
And at someone else's expense.
There are folks living on our streets,
Trying to figure out how to shelter themselves.
Where to bathe and what to eat!
While those who scurry about with their lifted up noses...
Seek a place to close a door anywhere.
With anyone who agrees...
They are still able to indentify their sanity!
It may not be the accepted 'sanity'!
But at least they are supportive of one another!
There are folks living on our streets,
Trying to figure out how to shelter themselves.
Where to bathe and what to eat!
And people who are marketing decadence,
Stuff their diseased guts...
With delusions of grandeur.
OR something they hold,
To make them feel better than someone lese.
There are folks living on our streets,
Trying to figure out how to shelter themselves.
Where to bathe and what to eat!
Caring less about their bad credit.
Or who refused them a loan,
Based upon nothing in collateral shown.
Since once valued pretentions have lost their asset.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Here to Play The Dozen's
Hello?
Is there a light on in your attic?
Obviously not.
Unfortunately,
There is nothing dimming at all in your head.
At least give me eye contact,
So I feel as if something said is being heard,
And shared.
You ignoring me,
Is a favor done you wont believe.
I don't have to put up with your ignorance.
Or tolerate disrespect from no one.
In fact,
Give me more distance.
I live in this community.
And I am familiar with the neighborhood.
What happens here and what folks do to themselves,
May be entertaining to you.
And I could care less if you disagree with me.
But you folks have been programmed,
To invite your own unexpected deaths.
I have integrity and some dignity left,
That has of yet been taken.
And I have identity.
Of that you have none.
My comprehending of that has long been numbed.
To the point it is no longer heartbreaking.
Nor am I one to fake unity!
It aint happenin'.
And if it is I'd like to know where?
But let me say this...
To get this over with quick.
You can act as if I am invisible,
If that helps you pretend I do not exist.
However...
Do not 'think' I have to put up with your 'stupidity'
Because others get a kick out of it!
I am not into self destruction.
Or folks who make excuses to self abuse themselves.
And I know you don't understand this,
Because your mama didn't teach you.
And your father refuses to be a man.
And I know you don't understand 'that'.
Nor am I here to play the 'dozen's with you.
Truth I do not play with!
Too many of you have been pitched the taste for truth.
But you'd rather do a genocide on yourselves,
Better than 'the man' can!
And your ignorance has been addicted to keep that focused.
But nothing done I do is a mirage.
I'm here to snap your ass awake.
Don't get that messed up with your sugared cookies.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Left to Play the Blame Game
Conditioned to discredit their own kind.
In neighborhoods...
Where one has said,
Folks have lost their moral fiber.
Others who have come to witness this...
Have come to realize,
Those folks have also lost their minds.
Unfortunately...
They have been encourage,
To lose their identity as well.
Their ambitions have been to flaunt,
A foolishness dressed to impress!
In a collected unified distrust of one another.
Not realizing this would lead to communities,
Under duress.
And stressed in their own distress.
With no one left to care,
How or if they correct such a mess.
Since this has been their wish!
Bestowing a self destruction done at its best.
Left to play the blame game...
With no one but themselves.
Pointing fingers!
And leaving them to thrive...
In conditions they've imposed,
But have chosen to see it with eyes...
In blind defiance.
Despising truth,
That confronts them exposed.
But this and who they are goes denied!
No matter who comes qualified...
To tell them about themselves.
Or tries to correct their ignorant lives.
Whether dressed in street clothes...
Or suited up with bowties!
'They just do not get it! '
A mindset this shallow...
Although recognized,
Is best to leave in the hands of those who defend it.
Since those who criticize and become offended,
Are the ones that are ostracized!
The ones trying to mend it!
Finding they are living much happier lives...
Divorced from such division.
Divorced from those in constant criticsms.
And observing this nonsense from the outside.
Living with a peace of mind...
As a decision made.
And feeling grateful and blessed,
In confessions they profess...
They were able to find,
With a welcomed rest!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Benefit of Their Neglect
Some folks don't recognize a good thing
Even when they have it!
They will take it for granted.
Thinking it came to them easy...
So more has to be out there for the asking!
Until it becomes understood,
Their intentions to turn what is good...
Into something not so tasty!
They become deluded within themselves.
But delusions are what they are!
Based on fantasy.
And some folks have fantasized themselves,
Right out of the mix!
To secure something or someone that belongs...
It has to be appreciated.
It has to become a respected part of one's life!
When that appreciation goes?
So too a peace of mind one thought came,
And would stay at the benefit of their neglect!
Many do no get this!
And that is why 'that' which was theirs isn't there,
To be shared!
It has gone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tootin' Or a Hootin
You gotta be 'real'
To know God in your heart!
You can't steal Him through prayer...
And pretend with everyone,
You know He's there!
You gotta be 'real'
To know God in your heart!
You can't steal Him through prayer...
And treat other folks like you don't care!
They call themselves names of faith.
Especially after church service,
Chirping and tasting sold homemade
Baked cakes.
They leave this place
With gossip on their tongues...
Trying to convince themselves,
And anyone else...
With a few scriptures known,
They are the 'chosen ones'
God has condoned!
But...
You gotta be 'real'
To know God in your heart!
You can't steal Him through prayer...
And pretend with others,
You know He's there!
You gotta be 'real'
To know God in your heart!
You can't steal Him through prayer...
And treat other folks like you don't care!
Communities everywhere are falling apart.
People looking for police...
And others to help them stop
Their nonsense blindly rise
As they watch with eyes as this increases to the sky!
No one gives a 'tootin hoot or holla' about their lives!
All they want are hand outs!
And someone to point out to criticize!
But...
You gotta be 'real'
To know God in your heart!
You can't steal Him through prayer...
And pretend with everyone,
You know God's there!
You gotta be 'real'
To know God in your heart!
You can't steal Him through prayer...
And treat other folks like you don't care!
These people ain't 'real...
To claim God in their hearts!
It ain't a thing they feel.
If they did...
Everything done,
Would have more appeal!
These folks ain't real...
To feel God in their hearts!
IF they did with truth faith...
They wouldn't be a 'tootin or a hootin 'bout
A crumbling world...
That's falling all a part!
These folks ain't real...
With a feeling of God in their hearts!
That's why no satisfaction ever comes,
And the weeping for them starts!
You gotta be 'real'
To know God in your heart!
You can't steal Him through prayer...
And pretend with everyone,
You know He's there!
You got to get up and get 'real'
To know God in your heart!
You can't steal Him through prayer...
Then treat other people like you don't care!
These people claim without no shame...
They know He's everywhere!
They call themselves names of faith.
Especially after church service,
Chirping and tasting sold homemade
Baked cakes.
They leave this place
With gossip on their tongues...
Trying to convince themselves,
And anyone else...
With a few scriptures known,
They are the 'chosen ones'
God has condoned!
You gotta be 'real'
To know God in your heart!
You can't steal Him through prayer...
And assume He's always there for you,
While you do what you dare!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From Years of Growth That Is Done
Caught up in a poisoned mind,
Uptight.
Folks watching other folks watching folks' backs.
Conditioned and disciplined to have their noses,
In someone's business.
And entertained by it with illiterate wishes.
While observing life with an illegitimate social perspective,
And refined by an acceptance of mediocity.
Those with a more adventurous mindset...
Find a wealth of companionships
During nature visits.
And always is nature there patient,
In waiting!
'Not always!
And what you tryin' to say?
A tree got more sense than me? '
A tree wouldn't comprehend that,
From years of growth that is done!
'And what is that suppose to mean? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Nothing Is Done
Do you get the feeling,
That it doesn't matter who says what...
About anyone or anything anymore.
This seems especially true...
In small towns with nohing but gossip,
For folks to value.
The more things change...
The less those who desperately need to change,
Do!
Even in big cities,
There are small minded folks!
And...
The mindsets of small town folks,
Will be guaranteed to be left reliably...
Small minded and uninvolved.
But yet upset with 'them'
Because 'they' don't 'act' like they care,
About their problems.
Those who sit on stoops...
And/or push baby carriages,
Around the blocks where their babies fathers,
Stand.
Seeking tips on good luck,
To dropp in their pockets!
They have suffered from under the rug swept stuff...
These folks!
With claims to have problems...
That have been historically ignored,
By those praying to God for solutions.
And when they come...
They don't like what has to be done!
So nothing is...
Done!
It just decays!
And folks find ways to celebrated it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soon Coming to a Set of Eyes Near You
They could have had their culture and identity in place.
But many of them because of jealousy,
Took their time to slander and erase...
Any deed that was done by anyone who came to uplift them!
They were sure to crush and ambush.
That has been their unconscious mission.
They are mentally sick.
But don't know this!
Folks with megaphones in communities...
Preaching from the Bible about unity.
Are they themselves in divisions.
They reflect themselves to have conflicts within them.
They do not have peaceful minds at all.
Recovering from drugs and alcohol.
Wanting to express their personal findings of God!
What has been embraced today...
Is a guilt expressed that has created an economic mess.
And a decadence that has fed gluttony,
Will still be at a heated fervor pitch...
If there were signs an abundance of it were being produced.
And Bible thumpers had their hands on it.
When folks see their greed about to cease...
That's the only reason they call upon God!
And that's why God is switching up all agendas.
With priorities for many to become vividly clear...
In the sharing of one reality!
There will be no varities or assortments of it...
Depicted from one's interpretation of a scripture lifted,
To define God's meaning.
Soon coming to a set of eyes near you!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What It Is They Do
Some folks enjoy doing things.
While other folks 'are' what they enjoy doing!
Some folks enjoy cooking.
And then there are cooks.
Some folks enjoy singing.
And then there are those who sing.
Some folks enjoy writing.
I know I do,
And I've been told I am a writer.
Some folks have no problem,
Producing what they do.
And others will say they don't have the time.
Although they waste it telling folks,
What it is they do...
And yet nothing of that,
Ever gets done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Disappearing Act
If I have offended you,
That can only mean one thing!
You chose to enforce an impression on me.
With a familiar disrespect,
That is a part of your life without self reflection.
And if I offended you,
I've seen what you do too much.
And folks like you out of touch,
With an absorption of self?
I don't like.
Although I may not say that.
My disappearing act should express it!
You will not test my peace of mind.
Doing it I do not suggest,
One bit.
And if you find that offensive,
I do not give a...
'To those who know what I am saying?
You know what I am saying!
There is no point in explaining.
Some folks can agitate the evil out of others.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Not There
Some folks don't and wont get it.
What has been said to them or done.
A thorough and complete programming instilled...
Has been fed and eaten,
By nearly everyone.
What some may see as bleak...
As their false foundations have been shakened,
From beneath their feet.
Others view this as opportunities to dismiss conflicts.
To begin to fix those divisions that have kept folks hiding,
Behind nonsense and their foolishness.
But some folks don't and wont get it.
What has been said to them or done.
A thorough and complete programming instilled...
Has been fed and eaten.
By nearly everyone.
And the ones who have awakened,
With a consciousness prepared.
Are very reluctant to share what is known!
Since a clarity in the eyes of most...
Is just not there!
With a promise it is coming to be shown,
To make an appearance anywhere!
Anytime,
Soon!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Honor of Deed
Raised to place their values in 'things'.
And the superficialness of looks,
With the best of false pretensions.
Very few of them have sacrificed their lives,
In the honor of deed.
Without proceeding that 'development'
With the asking for payment,
Or if an hourly fee for their activity was involved.
None would find time available.
If certain desires are not met.
And the few who are...
Available,
Busy themselves for critique,
And fashion!
AND may spend all day perfecting the 'look'!
As if in ceremony.
To welcome their own 'gorgeousness'.
No one would roll up their sleeves.
To sweat for free and purpose?
Even though the act of that,
Would aid in their survival!
These folks would rather be clothed...
Dressed to 'the nines'.
Seen strolling on urban streets looking healthy and 'fine'.
Or at least giving that perception.
Although in reality...
Many thought it distasteful to share.
Or beg for anything to eat!
If that was not done...
Like everthing done they do,
In discreet!
Note:
Dressed to the 'nines' was an expression
said in 'the day' when Black folks, Negroes...
African Americans, if you will, would dress
as if to impress and flaunt their looks. Primarily
in urban centers. Saving their best attire for Sunday.
In a respect that has drastically diminished over the years.
Today...
More are concerned with babysitting idealogies of the past.
As if not to offend the existence of disrespect.
With a condoned neglect and an acceptance of ignorance!
Of course this is an opinion...
many can not seem to erase from the 'clarity' of observation!
As well as other tragic signs of those living in denial.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today's the Day
Perhaps today's the day that I break free
Free from the hustle that comes each day
Free from distractions that lead me astray
Perhaps I can be what I'm made to be
Perhaps today's the day I'll choose to move
Move beyond the past into tomorrow
Move with purpose in the way I should go
Perhaps I'll believe I've nothing to prove
Perhaps today's the day I'll find my peace
Peace like a stream flowing fresh to my soul
Peace that brings new meaning and makes me whole
Perhaps that assurance will never cease
Perhaps today's the day I'll hear Your voice
So clearly that my heart will have no choice
If today's the day I'm finally free
May I be free to run and tell the world
With Your banner of love proudly unfurled
For today's the day You have set me free
If today's the day I finally move
May I move boldly toward holy life
Allowing You to guide me through the strife
As I dance for joy for You've made me move
And, if today's the day I find Your peace
May I promote that peace to all I meet
Living in peace and loving those I greet
As I gratefully give others Your peace
If today's the day I will hear Your voice
May I know it and may my heart rejoice
((March 7th,2010))
poem by Danny Speicher
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Revolving of Unrest
He was not asked a single thing.
He had been visually judged and assessed.
It did not matter what message he carried.
Folks were not impressed...
By his manner of speech,
Where he lived.
Or how he dressed.
Plus...
He was too accessible.
You know,
The kind seen walking or riding a bus.
People like that are quickly disrespected.
Since they are not seen on TV screens.
And some perceive them,
As insignificant and busted!
Not kings or queens that can be trusted!
But early in his youthful life,
He was extremely experienced.
Having responsibilities,
Thrown on his back.
And from foolishness he kept distant.
Observing others and how they react.
No one knew of his influence.
Or fame he did not claim.
He was there to uplift those of low self esteem.
And hopefully raise their consciousness.
With dignity and identities,
That would lift their heads from shame.
But some folks have such self hatred.
He was not asked a single thing.
He had been judged and assessed.
It did not matter what message he carried.
Folks were not impressed...
By his manner of speech,
Where he lived.
Or how he dressed.
And,
Gone unrecognized...
Was his message.
Of how to release treasures kept.
And he,
Did not participate in being a victim in distress.
Like those who seem to be in contant rehearsal.
And decided to protect his blessings best,
By enjoying his peace of mind.
And leaving behind those who prefer,
A revolving of unrest!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poor Folks Town
The work is hard and the hours are long
The money aint much but we get along
Were rich in things can give
That cant be bought with a dollar bill
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no carpets on the floor
Weve got wall to wall love
Who could ask for more
We got no big fine things to show
Just a place to watch our children grow
We got no big fine fancy car to drive
And no fancy clothes to keep in style
What weve got were payin on
But its mostly love that were livin on
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
Weve got a little simple church nearby
And the promise of a mansion in the sky
A heart of gold a million dollar smile
And a one way ticket to paradise
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
So, come on down
Have a look around
Rich folks livin in a poor folks town
We got no money but were rich in love
Thats one thing that weve got a-plenty of
So come on down have a look around
At rich folks livin in a poor folks town
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Free
So this is the cage that I built
Why I built it I dont know
Its bars made of anger and guilt, no lock
But somehow it just wouldnt let me go
All hail the messenger of love
I got your message loud and clear
Now Im hungry to be healed
And you cant, you cant keep me away
Im free
When we are one, I am complete
Im free
And Im undone and I will be healed in your eyes
I had to close a door in my life for another one to open
So i, I could go through, though I had no guiding light
And no signs somehow it still lead me to you
I learned a lesson here in love
And its ringing loud and clear
Now Im ready to reveal all the things
That before I could never say
Im free
When we are one, I am complete
Im free
And Im undone and I will be healed in your eyes
All hail the messenger of love
I got your message loud and clear
Now Im hungry to be healed
And you cant, you cant keep me away
When we are one, I am complete,
And Im undone, and I will be healed in your eyes
When we are one, I am complete,
And Im undone, and I will be healed in your eyes...
Im free...
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Cry To The Darkening Sea
A song I wrote
I'm looking along the sea,
Searching for an answer,
Seeing only darkness,
Comforting the icy soul beneath.
Our passion is forever,
A silent whisper
To the night,
Our passion is forever,
A cry in the darkness.
I'm sorry,
I'm not who I say,
I'm sorry,
I couldn't stay today.
I've lived this lie
I've cried these tears,
I've gone through the pain
You've stood by for so many years
This is the message
This is the truth,
I don't care anymore
This is the message
This is the truth,
The darkness is my best friend
This is the message
This is the truth,
I am the lie.
Tears won't express the anger,
Darkness can't console this pain,
Dead or alive
I will love you,
Broke or rich
I will love you,
Hate me and I will love you.
Where is the love,
You can't even stand to look at me,
You are hating,
The darkness consuming me.
This is the message
This is the truth,
I am who I am
This is the message
This is the truth,
I don't love you anymore
This is your message
This is your truth.
poem by Evan Skora
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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