Cries of Anguish Sighed
One day,
You will say what you mean.
Without post-traumatic stress,
Coming to exist from a premeditative visit.
In preparation for your defense...
To have others see you as the one victimized.
The one picked upon...
As you sweeten with innocence.
And disgusting those not 'smoozed' by your pretense.
Beginning as it does to get sickening to witness.
Cries of anguish sighed are kicked to the side.
After a noticeable pattern of this,
Starts to affect too many lives.
And those entertained by it have been satisfied.
You hide behind deceit and embellished lies.
A disguise you have worn too long.
Smothering to mask insecurities and incompetence.
And instead of ending your charade,
You wish to enforce you way...
To have this maladjustment accepted.
Making it increasingly difficult,
For you to ever know reality...
Without peeking at it from a distance.
And complaining how 'mean' it seems!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
When They Don't Possess The Balls!
Many make false claims,
To sensationalize their own lives.
They use others as decoys,
To hide and mask their own insecurities.
With backstabbings.
Character assassinations.
Malicious gossip and innuendo.
And familiar deceit and lies!
People like you and me,
Are singled out and victimized.
Why?
Because that is easier for someone to do,
When they don't possess the balls!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Declining Forgiveness
We must help those whose lives,
Are stuck in an unchanged past.
It is difficult for them to accept,
The times now out of their grasp.
With embellished insecurities...
Of memories flourished now gone.
Their mentalities are witnessed to be diminishing quick.
And within themselves,
They can not admit...
These times lived today,
Will not continue to permit...
An attention given,
To such stubbornly held sickness...
They have become riddled and sit with!
We must help those whose lives,
Are stuck in an unchanged past.
It is difficult for them to accept,
The times now out of their grasp.
The challenges ahead requires a collective focus,
That has to exist!
To be drained emotionally by someone misfit...
Detaches an empathy!
With a declining forgiveness,
Decaying with it!
And a healing affect,
Will for all go neglected
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Are The Whos
Now...
With a hint of self evaluation,
Peeking from behind closed and padlocked doors...
Perhaps the process of ending delusion,
Has an opportunity to be introduced to truth.
A truth fools can longer afford to ignore.
And those locked in cells,
Watching cable on their flat screened TVs...
Can perform sighs of relief,
Knowing a empathy comes...
That has been slowly publicly released.
Millions of people incarcerated across the land,
Have been victimized by misunderstanding.
And taught behaviors...
That mysteriously got out of hand.
And because of a way of life,
Highlighted as advertised...
Who really knew,
That the marketing of these standards valued,
Would someday open up eyes!
Instead of leaving them shut...
As the implementation of such high moral intentions,
Were ignored just to hype...
While a diseasing mental illness,
Began to disturb and disrupt...
With deceit and accepted corruption!
Who amongst the published 'Who Are The Whos',
Would actually awaken to discover...
Those real 'Whos' are you?
I mean...
Who knew?
Did you?
And,
Now...
With a hint of self evaluation,
Peeking from behind once closed and padlocked doors...
Perhaps the process of ending delusion,
Has an opportunity to be introduced to truth.
A truth fools can longer afford to ignore
And those wounds inflicted upon your sensitive minds,
Will soon be released from confinement...
As an empathetic guilt,
Is beginning to be found by those blind...
And historically fantasized by their depictions,
Of a civilization so perfect in etiquette...
Could never find a way,
To socially realize!
A pattern disguised with pretensions and lies.
With the Who amongst the published 'Who Are The Whos',
Actually awakening to discover...
Those real 'Whos' are you?
I mean...
Who knew?
Did you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Need You Have To Charade
Ever since I've known you,
You've done your best not to admit...
Insecurities you have.
And those habits that exist.
Done as if...
I am not aware.
Or conscious when you declare...
You have other things on your mind.
And when you find the time,
You will work on those things
Needing your attention to mend.
And this you admit!
Since this and other things are accepted,
By your friends...
Why do I seem the only one,
Offended by them?
Maybe there is a reality...
I suspect you have!
But have not seen begin.
Perhaps I am the only one,
Who tires from hearing your creative excuses.
Freshly made to hide behind your masquerades.
And they have long been outdated.
Just like the fake loyalty of your so called friends.
Although I do understand the need you have to charade.
It is your addiction to self abuse,
I do not find amusing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Visitor
Honestly?
You asked for my opinion,
And here it is for free!
Anyone can say what they want.
And process what they want to share.
I've learned over the years,
To keep my business to myself...
And not let my business become 'theirs'.
Folks who have a different reality,
That's fine...
It may not be mine.
Wherever their minds are,
That's on them...
I keep my mind away!
I'm not going to stay around anyone,
Making attempts to be accepted...
By choosing right words to say!
I enjoy my life and where it is right now.
And that was a long time coming.
I take my time listening to the birds...
And sometimes with them I'm humming!
I appreciate the little things,
And observe again what was passed by!
When I talk to someone in conversation...
I look them in the eyes.
I don't disrespect anyone with neglect,
By looking away or up to the sky!
That kind of treatment is worse than telling a lie!
And from those kinds of people...
I do my best to hide!
I've learned to have fun,
And sometimes by myself.
I don't have to be in a crowd of folks...
To feel important or laugh at bad jokes.
And honesty comes first with me.
Someone who doesn't give it is instantly dismissed!
I don't waste my time with pretense or self indulgence.
Or kiss up to anyone to be part of someone's clique!
And if I show myself in disguise,
Wearing a mask that does not fit!
I want it known,
I am either not feeling well...
Or around those that are making me sick!
And...
That's not a habit I would normally condone.
That is why affairs like these I'd rather leave alone!
'Oh?
So I take it you are a visitor,
And not from around this area?
I must get back to mingling with my friends.
Thank you for your observations!
You never know...
We might meet again! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Into Themselves
People into themselves,
Live lives delusioned to fantasize.
And they are distracted by facts,
With a hope one day...
A reality they wish to inflict,
Will not restrict with obstacles...
That affect their strides.
It becomes increasingly difficult,
To support and defend...
Those like them.
They are not molded with backbone,
Another could depend.
Fence sitters undecided,
With a self esteem dismissed.
Often are destructive to progress...
With a delaying of it.
And direct they are not.
Deceivers they tend to be.
With a seeking of attention...
To stop a process intended,
That will expose their activity...
Lacking in accountability!
People into themselves,
Live lives delusioned to fantasize.
And they are distracted by facts,
With a hope one day...
A reality they wish to inflict,
Will not restrict with obstacles...
That affect their strides.
Or the need they have to embellish,
From the shadows where they hide.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Will Never Be Accepted As A Replacement
To locate those more qualified,
To sweep away and hide...
Lives accustomed,
To criticize others...
Yet deny they pride a taste,
For the slime side of life?
This search is going to take,
A face to face with reality.
And a stripping of a masquerade.
Needless to say...
That will never be accepted,
As a replacement for an addicting charade.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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5
Falling apart
I'm sickening
I'm sickening
Losing my heart
I'm sickening
I'm sickening
Retract
Trying to forget
Trying to protect
5
Crawling this far
I'm sickening
I'm sickening
Soiled and scarred
I'm sickening
I'm sickening
Retract
Lying to subject
Dying to collect
5
I'm coming apart
Finally
Maybe this time I'll forget about you
I've tried
But you keep coming back
Retract
5
I'm coming apart
song performed by by Ultraspank
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the most public of places
When one survives after being victimized,
By those who lie habitually...
To boost themselves above insecurities,
Hidden deeply.
It is best to let them and their evil deeds go.
A surviver who rises above and beyond this,
Eventually knows truth bestows.
This they know.
And with this they grow.
Those unknowing of one's malfunctions,
Will witness one day how they are exposed.
In the most public of places.
And the one victimized by such false lips,
Will show how a life lived with a faith that exists...
Rises high detached from conflicts.
With a maintaining of a happiness that reflects,
From inside what has been there and real.
And this becomes freed of any secrets revealed.
'Oh my!
What I heard and was led to believe,
Has been deceit all this time?
What is in the mind of those who undermine? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If It's In Their Blood
Rushed justifications,
Are outdated applications...
Applied today.
By those who enforce and try to endorse them.
Using techniques that never worked...
But incompetence does not offer that,
As an assessment tool for fools to use.
The obviousness of dismissed discipline,
Has fallen on the shoulders...
Of those who are older.
And...
Quick to use excuses,
To warrant their denials.
They would rather find others guilty
And put them on trial.
Folks are still looking,
For a way to toast their ill gotten gains.
Even still they are on the prowl,
To boost and boast their bloated egos.
To show themselves above and 'beyond'.
Although most are just filled with hot air.
Unaware no one cares...
If they should stay 'beyond'
And untouchable!
As long as they do not leave behind,
Their ignorance.
And a lot of that they do leave behind.
To circumvent any progress intended.
Or contemplated and meant.
With few wishing to be in the same space,
To hobnob with those of such mindlessness.
To hear nonsense spilling from the mouths,
Of the ones choosing to hide insecurities...
Behind plastic faces!
Trying to fake remnants of honesty.
Truth and honesty?
Integrity with a dignity...
Expressed with identity?
Are you kidding me?
Seriously...
Are you?
Those days are evaporating...
Faster than water can be found in Death Valley.
And all you will see in Death Valley are vulchers,
Picking over skeletal remains.
Or something that looks as if it had been alive.
Or wished that it could have been.
And did just that...
With an avoidance to pretensions.
It looks as if reality for some is here to stay.
For others...?
They will never know what it is to address it.
Or become satisfied...
If and when it ever should become acknowledged!
They will still charade.
It is in their blood to do so!
Yes! It is.
It is not hidden.
It is in their blood...
Or DNA
If one chooses to say it that way!
To dip in sin,
To tease like demons...
And solicit the weak to be wicked!
As if that is their mission.
To fulfill demented ambitions.
If it wasn't...
Why does so much of it exist?
The evil and the wickedness.
And depicted on TV.
As is preached from pulpits.
Their quality of life they now find rotten...
Has been based upon all of it!
How can that be corrected?
When not one bit of it has been created from truth!
How can anyone correct minds,
Accustomed to being used and abused!
And encouraged to uncover similarities like these...
To keep a disturbance nurtured in this diminishment!
If it's in their blood.
And that's where the conflict is!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Signs of Turning Around
Many are discovering their thoughts and beliefs...
Have been totally prefabricated,
To sustain delusion based fantasies.
And entertained for humor purposes...
By those creating their own opportunities.
And doing this successfully...
With the power of deceit.
And the teasing of greed.
Shocked and dismayed by the truth that is.
Some have never experience...
The value of reality.
Or an honesty known...
Shown by one who around them lives.
And this economic meltdown...
Has no signs of turning around at all.
Even those who pray with faith...
They will be saved.
With a hope that these days,
From them will be erased.
Are in for a traumatic wakeup call!
When they realize their entire lives...
Have been fantasized and faked!
To keep them blinded,
For an eventual downfall!
'That's pure BS and utter nonsense! '
Is it?
When was the last time Minnie or Mickey Mouse..
Paid 'you' a visit?
And you have sat with empty pockets,
To ensure your children sit quietly...
To pay attention to animated animals speak,
And teach intelligently
About the aspects of human life.
Either at the movies or in front of a TV!
'That's entirely different! '
IS IT?
Then why is truth so feared?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Removing Your Mask
Remember this...
No storm you fear to face,
Is chased away...
When you pursue,
A running away from it.
Nor will obstacles diminish,
To allow you to hide to pretend...
They do not exist.
Or from you will fade to exit,
As you charade a parading of delusions.
Remember this...
The only escape you have,
Is acknowledging reality exists.
With a hope someday you will have one task.
And that's removing your mask to be yourself.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Breaking All The Rules
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
Deceit defeated will end all misdeeds.
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
Deceit defeated will end all misdeeds.
You'll be stopped from braking all the rules.
And...
Stopped from doing tricky things you do.
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.
Many want it kept pursued,
The...
Duping and the suckering to fool,
THEY DO!
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah.
You don't know what I know.
An ending to the breaking all the rules,
Is coming soon...
With deceit defeated.
With deceit defeated.
And...
None of it to be repeated deeds.
I can feel it!
You don't know what I know, do yah.
Do yah, do yah...
Deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
An ending to the breaking all the rules,
Is coming...
Since deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
An ending to the breaking all the rules,
Is coming...
Since deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
Deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
Oh...yes.
Deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
Oh...yes.
Deceit defeated will end these misdeeds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If We Knew The Ending Of It
If we knew the ending of it,
As we proceed from the beginning.
Would it remain an adventure?
This life we would love to have satisfied,
Stripped of its mystery.
Where would we be if we knew,
Each step along the way.
It would be nice to have life laid out and paved,
Without an obstacle on it.
So it can be appreciated even less,
Than it is now!
If we knew the ending of it.
Like some who wait and sit...
Making excuses.
And wasting time to find that accepted.
To address with those of similar mindsets.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Done Without Instructions
There are those having the most difficult time,
They have ever had to experience in their lives.
And adjusting for them,
Has to be done without instructions.
To awaken and to realize,
A road stubbornly followed...
Has a dead end that surprises,
Is quite traumatic.
Especially when it becomes consciously accepted,
Those who have been denied participation...
For a host of reasons thought to be unethical,
And foolish.
Have them now exposed as fools.
With nothing but walss they have constructed,
To hit their heads against.
To awaken and to realize,
A road stubbornly followed...
Has a dead end that surprises,
Is quite traumatic.
There are those having the most difficult time,
They have ever had to experience in their lives.
And adjusting for them,
Has to be done without instructions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They've Got All Of That In Abundance
Every opportunity they have EVER had,
Has walked amongst them.
Staring them in the face.
Following them home and knocked on their doors.
Offered them a smile and a quick hello.
Sat and stood near them wherever they went.
Or decided not to go to come back,
Had been at their fingertips or within reach.
And even tried to leave them messages,
By telephone.
But...
They did not or could not recognize,
What they had before them on a daily basis...
Right before their eyes,
As opportunities.
Or dreams to them sent.
They saw the experience of it all...
As reasons to complain, blame and find fault.
And the only thing they sought with a seeking to wish...
Is the creating of their own dilemmas and conflicts,
Ignorance, self defeating, deceit, cheating and lies.
And they've got all of that in abundance.
And none of this is in disguise as dreams they wished,
That for them have come true.
And if these 'dreams' were not indeed from them wished,
Why do they for them exist?
If not wished...
Why have these realities become accepted?
Who has entertained these minds to find what they've receive,
As gifts?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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These Are Not Those Days
Those beginning any relationship,
With the ease of making excuses...
Will be making them throughout the duration.
And then they are left to wonder why...
Their character assassination campaigns,
Are becoming less affective.
Today...
People are no longer entertained,
By those who clearly have insecurities...
They believe others should accept,
From a mindset that dishes to them disrespect.
These are not those days,
That have from them slipped away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Has to Be 'Something' Left to Salvage
There has to be 'something' left to salvage.
Something with a footstep placed,
And taken towards integrity.
Something with a fingerprint on it...
That says with uncertain proof,
He even knows what that means.
Something besides lies and deceit done.
And a legacy that will state...
He saved the land from terrorists that would come.
Or came and claimed to have stunned.
There has to be 'something' left to salvage.
Something with a footstep placed,
And taken towards integrity!
He and his followers would like to see,
Him vindicated...
For making decisions that will lift his name up...
And away from the gutter from a greed satiated.
There has got to be something,
Other than corruption and smut!
Smothered and dipped in utter ignorance.
And an ending of a greatness one country 'had'..
He and incompetence has left in rags!
Since he and what he has created...
Leaves a democracy in devastation.
And one sad man who secretly grieves.
There has to be 'something' left to salvage.
Something other than a directed bitterness...
Shown with an openness.
And criticizes a failed leadership.
That would be difficult to disguise,
For those who witnessed it...
And despise.
To leave it and him unscathed.
What in the days and years ahead can be said?
Many are left sickened.
More are left dead!
And those who are wounded...
Will never know a peace to come,
In their heads!
And he will leave behind much to grieve.
Whether he belives what he did was 'just' or not!
He was not of the justice frame of mind kind!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Traumatic Has to Be the Reality Faced
Traumatic for many,
These days lived...
Has to be.
Especially for the ones who identified,
Their lives and self worth...
With the ability to purchase 'bling',
And other materialistic things.
With money that from them is dwindling.
Traumatic has to be the reality faced,
There is no substitute for truth that can be replaced.
Nor are there those empathetic,
Who have grown accustomed...
To finding their way on the streets to eat and sleep.
And yet those with beliefs they are above all of this,
Find themselves indebted to their beliefs...
They wish to keep.
And...
Traumatic for many,
These days lived...
Has to be.
For those who make demands as if...
Their lifestyles can be sustained,
By squeezing them...
From an economy based on credit.
That has exhausted all fantasies,
Once supporting a delusion...
There was no ending that came to a feeding of a feast.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Give Me The Opportunity to Grieve Your Absence
I am waiting for you to disappear,
To enable me to miss you.
However...
I can not do that successfully,
If you are going to constantly remind me
You will be gone!
At least give me the opportunity,
To grieve your absence.
Give me at least five years,
To allow the beginning of any noticeable affect.
I will give you a call when that monitoring starts!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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