No One Has to Know You Are Not Medicated
'Their explanations are totally ridiculous.'
I know it and you know it.
But we are suppose not to show that we know.
We are to pretend we are convinced,
That what they do makes sense.
To uphold their eroding credibility.
And all we have to do is live through it.
Go through the motions.
As if what they do in our minds does not exist.
'So,
In other words...
We are to sacrifice our realities,
And keep them in a deluded pretense...
Kept with crumbling standards,
Observed but not spoken?
Live a lie...
Is that what you're saying? '
Not only live it...
Become it!
'But...
That's a sick existence! '
Ssssshhh...
No one has to know,
You are not medicated.
And that is the challenge,
You must face.
Pretending not to be disgusted,
And disgraced by it all!
Unless of course...
You decide you have no choices left.
And they perceive you as completely deranged.
Which does provide its benefits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
LIVE For the Sheer Enjoyment Of It
If you wish to surround yourself,
With something that benefits.
Remove yourself from a stagnant environment...
One proclaimed that has exhausted a usefulness.
And learn to live more appreciative,
Of 'all' that is connected to allow an experience.
To prejudge and evaluate what appears to be,
A completed portait of a depiction limited.
On a canvas much too vast and complexed,
To digest and satisfy those who decide...
Research and adventure does not provide,
An unending wealth of revelation...
Can make one physically and mentally sick.
That's if...
One wishes to surround oneself,
With something that benefits,
An habitual repetitiveness.
Like a refilling of a 'needed'
Medical prescription.
One is made to become convinced...
Living with addictions makes more sense.
Do this...
And little time is spent in the frowning of lips!
LIVE for the sheer enjoyment of it.
That's IF...
You wish to surround yourself,
With something that benefits a smile recognized...
On a face that has been missing it!
And leave those with a 'woe-is-me-factor' alone.
What makes you feel you must condone this?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Choices
Choices
Are a form of grace
To have a choice
A voice,
is a privilege
Choices can
Change situations
The right choices
can uphold mankind
for thousands of generations
Choices
becomes personal declarations
A vow for one to live by
There shall always be
difficult choices to make
inorder to survive
Therefore,
Choose wisely today
For tomorrow
Shall surely come and
The choices of today could
Makes all future matters
well done!
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sitting Upon Fences
There is something being presented
That clearly separates from the truth.
It doesn't have to be spoken.
It is observed and felt.
Something is disconnecting.
And it is okay that it leaves and goes away.
It conflicts with higher consciousness.
And those on the threshold of it,
See and feel the difference...
Between reality and pretense.
And those who are deluded...
Are observed living lives,
Absolutely making very little sense.
And yet they believe they hide their intentions...
By keeping themselves exposed,
While sitting upon fences imposing their denseness
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Increasingly Addicted
Cultural and self hate issues,
Will remain to stay...
For those unable to face them to correct.
With a choosing to view them not as foolish,
But choices made embedded forever to accept.
And people living where hate crimes exist,
Have been fed with beliefs what is done is moralistic.
With a hoping that a praying of truths away...
Will someday validate their animalistic ways.
Many are embarrassed by realities.
Believing themselves immuned...
From truth obvious and seen.
Too many have been taught truth demeans.
And many are rooted in concepts held,
That if a telling of a lie is kept long enough...
Their denials will rise to heights.
And facts that exist will vanish from their eyes.
Cultural and self hate issues,
Will remain to stay...
For those unable to face them to correct.
With a choosing to view them not as foolish...
But tools to use to abuse for amusement.
Labelling people evil who speak with truth,
To keep lives lived unchanged and deluded...
Only transfers those minds medicated on fantasies,
To become increasingly addicted...
Limited and mentally sick.
For all eventually wishing to awaken from this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm so sick- Flyleaf (lyrics)
I will break into your thoughts
With what's written on my heart
I will break, break
I'm so sick, infected with
Where I live
Let me live without this
Empty bliss, selfishness
I'm so sick
I'm so sick
If you want more of this
We can push out, sell out, die out
So you'll shut up
And stay sleeping
With my screaming in your itching ears
I'm so sick, infected with
Where I live
Let me live without this
Empty bliss, selfishness
I'm so sick
I'm so sick
Hear it, I'm screaming it
You're heeding to it now
Hear it, I'm screaming it
You tremble at this sound
You sink into my clothes
This invasion makes me feel
Worthless, hopeless, sick
I'm so sick, infected with
Where I live
Let me live without this
Empty bliss, selfishness
I'm so, I'm so sick
I'm so sick, infected with
Where I live
Let me live without this
Empty bliss, selfishness
I'm so (I'm so)
I'm so sick (I'm so sick)
I'm so (I'm so)
I'm so sick (I'm so sick)
poem by Cynthia DeMoines
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im So Sick
ll break into your thoughts
With what's written on my heart
I will break, break
I'm so sick,
Infected with where I live
Let me live without this
Empty bliss,
Selfishness
I'm so sick
I'm so sick
If you want more of this
We can push out, sell out, die out
So you'll shut up
And stay sleeping
With my screaming in your itching ears
I'm so sick,
Infected with where I live
Let me live without this
Empty bliss,
Selfishness
I'm so sick
I'm so sick
Hear it, I'm screaming it
You're heeding to it now
Hear it! I'm screaming it!
You tremble at this sound
You sink into my clothes
And this invasion
Makes me feel
Worthless, hopeless, sick
I'm so sick,
Infected with where I live
Let me live without this
Empty bliss,
Selfishness
I'm so sick
I'm so sick
I'm so sick
Infected with where I live
Let me live without this
Empty bliss, selfishness
I'm so
I'm so sick
I'm so
I'm so sick
poem by cherry Tucker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Live
Clear out your mind
Look to your past and see what you can find
Stole soul afraid
Of the prophets perfect picture falls away
Is this the life that we choose to live
Or is this the life that has been giving
Now is the time to see what my life should be
What is mine!?
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
It's a timeless rage
For many people praying to be saved
Truth is so strong
It needs lights to guide it so it can carry on
I've seen blood on my hands
Am I dead or is this where it begins
I feel the shame
For my friend who put a bullet in his brain!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Battered From The War of Delusion
My needs.
That's what they are.
For too long,
I kept them captivated...
With an absence I ignored.
My desires were explored,
In dreams and wishes.
I allowed my needs to be evaluated.
To become incompleted!
Depleted...
To live as others believed I should.
To be there with an empathy disposed,
By others quick to display insincerety.
At my expense.
I was not expected to have sense enough.
To listen and not be heard.
To care for those thoughtless...
How I spent my days.
Whether sick or crazed.
What my feelings were did not faze them at all.
I was not suppose to show them.
Or feel them below the surface of my skin.
As if I was wrapped and packaged with pretense.
I had been connected to something,
To them made no sense.
Offended I became to an ignorance.
This had to end...
With a defending against such offensiveness.
And when I announced my needs were mine...
I could not find anyone to agree,
But me.
I declared them my priority.
As well as my life!
I was called selfish.
Knowing within me I was right!
And without a fight...
I agreed and gathered my emotions.
And I set into motion my needs.
My search for happiness ended.
I had it to give.
But so few had that to offer.
They were there to pleasure others...
As if I had no other reason to live.
But to be there for them!
And no one here for me...
To encourage and restore,
An energy seeping.
That has all been changed,
When peace of mind found me!
With needs no longer questioned to identify.
No explanations to qualify or kept denied.
They were simple and scattered all over the place.
I stopped trying to find them.
With a disgrace embraced and welcomed.
And that's when they all came back...
Intact!
Battered from the war of delusion,
That I could live without my needs being pleased!
Self absorbed?
Definitely!
Apologetic?
Only God knows how much this is deserved.
And yes...
I have the nerve to confess,
I am happy!
With no ego to prove my contentment.
Or deeds done to validate involvement to prove...
Sacrifices of commitment.
Those battles have been documented!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Butterfly
Ripping the wings off the butterfly.
Now tell me, how is it suppose to survive?
Motions so slow.
The breath is fading.
Tell me, why is this so contagious?
An addiction to equally distribute a common affliction.
Enjoying the show.
Watching them suffer.
If it is for your entertainment does that make it any different?
Ripping the wings off the butterfly.
Now tell me, how is it suppose to survive?
Motions so slow.
The breath is fading.
Tell me, why is this so contagious?
Here's a lullaby go to asleep now.
It was only a dream.
Then why is their so much pain?
A rag is being held over the wound.
And now I know things won't be the same.
The consequences when good men do nothing.
Ripping the wings off the butterfly.
Now tell me, how is it suppose to survive?
Motions so slow.
The breath is fading.
Tell me, why is this so contagious?
An addiction to equally distribute a common affliction.
Enjoying the show.
Watching them suffer.
If it is for your entertainment does that make it any different?
Proud of who we are.
But who is that exactly?
A power driven society who tying to live high in the clouds.
Well eventually we must all come down.
Facing so many horrible realities.
Which will be our first?
Which one will be our last?
Is this what we are going to say was our greatest accomplishment.
We let millions suffer so we could live the easy life.
I can here the voices that have yet to speak.
Miles away in another world.
In a war torn country.
Don't drink the water or you'll get sick.
If you don't want to starve you'll have to kill for it.
Murder and rape in the middle of the night.
Poison gas launched to wiped out entire populations.
Can we say genocide.
And we are trying
We are trying to rip the wings off the butterfly.
Now tell me, how is it suppose to survive?
Motions so slow.
The breath is fading.
Tell me, why is this so contagious.
Here's a lullaby go to asleep now.
It was only a dream.
Then why is their so much pain?
A rag is being held over the wound.
And now I know things won't be the same.
The consequences when good men do nothing.
The politics that divide.
Religions that cast us against one another.
The brother of the brother.
We are both the sinner and the saint.
We claim we are here to destroy evil.
But who is it that chooses that very same evil.
The devil of many colors and skins.
I feel like a snake when I come crawling in.
Morals abandon for a pride that burns.
Ripping the wings off the butterfly.
Now tell me, how is it suppose to survive?
Motions so slow.
The breath is fading.
Tell me, why is this so contagious.
An addiction to equally distribute a common affliction.
Enjoying the show.
Watching them suffer.
If it is for your entertainment does that make it any different?
Does it make it any different?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drifting To Shift Away
We seem to have been always great.
With the feeding of this,
Throughout generations.
And accepting nothing less,
Served to us on an overflowing plate.
Room that left opportunities,
To become better...
Did not exist.
Many had no time for this to fit.
Since what we were in our minds,
Was a perfection to be envied.
And a way of life,
That was hard to resist!
With an easiness to define.
And...
Defend with quickness.
We seem to have been always great.
With no tolerance for others...
That did not equal,
Or emulate the image.
With an appeasing done,
To uphold those preferenced druthers...
The chosen and elite believed one needed to meet.
Or challenge,
To be selected for defeat!
And still,
To this very day...
We express, we do, our dissatisfactions!
Becoming dismayed...
Towards those who are different in custom.
And mannerisms diversed in ethnic actions displayed!
To perceive a greatness understood...
Should and could become strengthened from within.
But,
Then again...
To ignore and rid of constant discipline...
With no attention given to it or its importance,
Will eventually find concrete foundations...
Crumbling into quarreling divisions.
With a hated directed and mentioned,
On everyone's lips.
Shared until it bores from familiarity.
Leaving 'this' ideal of a greatness to sit.
Until the memory of it drifting to shift away,
From a purpose...
Any purpose.
Fades,
As if...
Every thought of greatness was no more than a myth!
Like a victim of a tragic coincidence observed..
But left unassisted with an interest vanishing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Live & Let Die (radio Spot)
LIVE AND LET DIE"
Words and Music by Paul McCartney
When you were young and your heart was an open book,
You used to say live and let live.
(You know you did, you know you did, you know you did.)
But if this ever changing world in which we live in
makes you give it a cry, say Live and Let Die!
Live and Let Die, Live and Let Die, Live and Let Die
What does it matter to ya,
when you got a job to do, you gotta do it well
You gotta give the other fellow Hell!
---------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Fresh Are These Days of Awareness That Come
Fresh are these days of awareness.
The spicing done to fantasies,
Seem totally ridiculous.
Escaping exits to explore escapades...
Are closing down in minds,
For those who had found themselves entwined!
Oh,
So fresh are these days of awareness that come.
A stinging stung that's felt,
Nearly by everyone.
And those who sing the blues,
Had other choices...
But they refused.
Deciding to keep their minds completely fixed.
To a way of life,
With standards and values today quickly nixed.
Wishing now they had kept things simple.
But consumed they are with bitterness.
With others like them...
Who have been deceived and tricked!
Oh,
So fresh are these days of awareness that come.
A stinging stung that's felt,
Nearly by everyone.
The spicing done to fantasies,
Seem totally ridiculous.
Escaping exits to explore escapades...
Are closing down in minds,
For those who had found themselves entwined!
And a whistling is heard!
Coming from those who kept their eyes opened.
Observing reality for what it is!
Now they watch those disturbed.
Those who sit stubbornly...
With hopes their delusions maintained,
Will someday again...
With the aid of false prayer,
By them who dare...
To display a sudden faith.
Be served to end the reality of their heartache.
But where were they...
When the earth began to shake?
To awaken those from their sleep.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Breath
One second left to live:
Who are you prepared to forgive?
Maybe the one that betrayed your trust;
Maybe the ones that plotted your demise.
One second left to live:
How many widows can I feed?
How many children can I cuddle?
One second left to live:
How many souls can I tell about Him?
To whom can I show mercy?
One second left to live...Jesus!
poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If You Exist This Proves You Don't Care
Is it the Gods who decide if we live or we die,
If it is then our lives aren't worth living,
The whole concept of life is no more than a lie,
It is cruel and yet so unforgiving.
If Gods have this power we are no more than pawns,
In a warped and sick game of chess,
If it's for them to decide if a new day dawns,
Then it's a concept, which just doesn't impress.
Who are they to dictate these sick rules?
It's the ultimate form of oppression,
If their presence is true then they treat us like fools,
It makes you wonder if they encourage transgression.
Do they live in luxury as their creations starve?
Paradise is where we're told Gods reside,
Do they drink finest wines as their beef they carve?
Why for their destitute do they not provide.
We're allowed to communicate but it's all one way,
They don't reply but still expect you to believe,
It's only dictators who won't let you have a say,
That's a thought that should make us all grieve.
Why don't they help us when assistance is required?
For accountability they have no obligation,
Yet it's preached to us they must all be admired,
They're all false would be my allegation.
For someone so strong and with so much power,
You remind me of our world's politicians,
Unachievable promises, which make the decent cower,
When found out there are no honest admissions.
If you are real then please prove me wrong,
By showing us your people you are there,
But I know you won't as it's in a fantasy you belong,
‘' If You Exist Then This Proves You Don't Care ‘'
Fools
Well, I aint about to go to school.
And Im sick and tired of golden rules.
They say Im crazy, from the wrong side of the tracks.
I never see them, but theyre always on my back.
Well, Im sick and tired of cleaning room.
And its the final bell for pushing broom.
Damned if I do, and then Im damned if I dont.
Wont someone tell me what it is they all want?
It makes me blue!
Ooh, I live with fools!
Ooh, it makes me blue!
Ooh, I live with fools!
I just cant take it!
My teachers all gave up on me.
No matter what they say, I disagree.
And when I need something to soothe my soul,
I listen to too much rock n roll.
Dont want no class reunion.
This circus just left town.
Why behave in public if youre
Livin on a playground?
It makes me blue!
Ooh, I live with fools!
Ooh, it makes me blue!
Ooh, I live with fools!
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fantasized By Lives Deluded
Fantasized by lives deluded.
Where will their minds go?
When all of their beliefs,
Have been depleted.
To release them to realities...
They've been taught to fear.
And takes away those choices,
To isolate
Behind locked doors!
Their eyes charaded,
With disguises and masquerades...
Now can no longer be kept closed!
Or escapes to shelter them,
From the beast at the feast...
They enjoyed without limits.
This beast creeps within their consciousness.
And bares exposed sharpened teeth.
Preparing them to eat!
They see this...
As the gates of a way of life,
For them once lived...
Crumbles to rust and has been disposed.
Where will their minds go?
With no amusements left to show.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Are No Minutes Kept Backed Up
There are no minutes kept backed up,
To put aside to decide to live them.
There are no minutes that can be stored as such,
For one to decide life is worth living.
There are no minutes kept backed up.
None one can say they have wrapped up.
There is no one on Earth with that much luck...
To decide when their life is worth the living.
People think they should be shown some proof,
That a life they live is worth the living.
While they isolate themselves locked up in coops,
To decide that a life they live is worth the living.
While awaiting for someone to approve what they do,
That a life given to them is worth the living.
With a choosing of every move...
Excusing some choices while others are removed.
To clarify that a life they live is worth the living.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mundane
How can anyone be excited,
To live an existence that is mundane?
With all there is that is freely given,
Why are minds limited to only complain?
Have choices made become that restricted,
To leave one feeling they can not resist...
A needlessness?
Has it come to just money and things people wish?
How can anyone be excited,
To live an existence that is mundane?
With all there is that is freely given,
Why are minds limited to only complain?
If one road is blocked...
Is that the only road there is?
If one is prevented with the doing of one thing,
Why do they stop with a dropping of tears?
There is something about that done,
I just do not get!
Am I suppose to regret my life is beset,
With challenges and obstacles I wish I never met?
Have choices made become that restricted,
To leave one feeling they can not resist...
A needlessness?
Has it come to just money and things people wish?
If one road is blocked...
Is that the only road there is?
If one is prevented with the doing of one thing,
Why do they stop with a dropping of tears?
There is something about that done,
I just do not get!
Am I suppose to regret my life is beset,
With challenges and obstacles I wish I never met?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Something to Say to Get Out
I did not limp your wrists.
Nor was I the one,
Who convinced you to live your life,
Spineless.
It seems to me that is your endeavor.
Done to achieve what it is you perceive.
But I do think of you,
As one who is afraid to come forward to say...
What you find important to verbalize,
In front of one's face...
Instead of behind one's back.
With a doing of that you do quite often.
And those I know...
Who have something to say to get out,
And off of their minds to clear slates...
Are just not the ones...
Who go shopping to demonstrate,
A working out of their frustrations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Call
Caught in a strugle
With your back against the wall
You saw it coming and you all must heed the call
Your time is short and you must decide
The path of action either live or die
The clock is ticking and it's moving fast
Can we move on or are we victims of the past
What a sacrifice - who will pay the price?
Racism flourished and it's stronger than before
People are fighting in another local war
Your time is short and you must decide
The path of action either live or die
The hate must stop and the war must cease
To make this world a place to live we must have peace
What a sacrifice - who will pay the price?
Think before you act...
Before it's too late...
song performed by by 24-7 Spyz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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