Users United
Played sensitivities,
Have played out...
For those who do it.
Users united,
Have become identified and busted.
And thrown out in the cold,
By those who have not been sold...
Such creatures who leech,
Are givers who reach out...
With unquestionable integrity.
Marketing that has been their difficulty.
Played sensitivities,
Have played out...
For those who do it.
Abusers who use others for what they have.
Appear upon the scene,
When something taken is to be had.
And caring less what is taken is the last thing left.
Users united,
Have become identified and busted.
Leaving nothing behind them but feelings of disgust.
And those who have been repeatedly stung...
Believing there is no one left on Earth for them to trust.
Played sensitivities,
Have played out...
For those who do it.
And those who do it,
Do it to satisfy their own selfish lusts!
Users united...
Have no rights to exercise.
Or lives lived to maximized,
Their sights upon others to deplete.
As if a completed act of leeching,
Is a bittersweet taste that is welcomed...
With open arms one seeks to greet and meet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I have played in rain before. I have played in wind before. I have played in cold before, but not all put together. They were the hardest conditions I ever played in.
quote by Michelle Wie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Such Compassionate Humility
'I admit to those times of being vane,
AND guilty.
But...
Not in recent memory.'
The same game played,
No matter what season it may be...
Will be played by the 'users'
Expressing the same mindless philosophy.
With only one agenda.
And that is to score!
With an intent,
To keep those prepared losing excuses...
At a hopeful distance.
Even the one who wins...
Has a determination,
From the beginning that does not end...
Speaks!
With such compassionate humility.
'Was it as good to you,
As it was for me...
To receive, give 'and' teach? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Weekend Blues Session
Three days and three nights
playing the guitar blues of life
my mind and body taken back
I can see
the old streets and the seats
where the blues players of old
used to meet
They'd sing of the pain
and the hate
and we'd respect what they
had to say
All these memories coming back
as we played for the times
when blues was our life
We played for the joy
we played for our minds
we played for our souls
we played until the monday morning blues
poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Played With Her Heart
He played with her heart
then left despair.
He played with her spirit
without a care
as to what he was doing
to the rest of she.
Oh if this never
happened from he,
she'd be able to breathe again free.
But time is the only
messenger of peace.
The passing of it
will have to surcease.
And if there's not enough
time that's left.
She'll go to her grave
with her soul bereft.
He played with her heart.
'Twas so hard to bear.
I believe he left it
beyond repair.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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My father actually moved out from Chicago just so he could play tennis 365 days a year, so it was - it was a place we played every day. We played before school. We played after school. We woke up. We played tennis. We brushed our teeth in that order.
quote by Andre Agassi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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During the course of the seven years I played scenes with an oil slick, I played a scene with a grain of rice. Sometimes with indescribable creatures. I remember having a conversation with something which was simply a smell, that's all. It was part of our job.
quote by Patrick Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Oldest Game Played
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
Initiating disturbances,
And claiming to be victimized...
Is decreasing in its effectiveness.
People finally are opening their eyes.
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
They begin with pretense to befriend someone.
Like the smile of a demon,
To ensure its welcome.
And then to make claims...
Of something despicable the innocent one has done,
To then defame and assassinate good character...
With a perception that success,
Is soon to be won!
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
Those 'Woe is me I don't know what happened' facades...
Are being stripped away for what they are.
Those who deceive and lie,
With pity party invitations...
Have devastated friendships and relationships,
Behind masqueraded false faces.
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
'Why would they lie like that?
Deceive and create conflict? '
~What is it that you have they might perceive,
As a value to them? ~
'Well...
Nothing I haven't with them shared.'
~They did not want it shared!
They wanted it theirs.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You have to remember that I played longer than anybody else on the main tour; I played until I was 40, and then played another six years or so on the seniors tour.
quote by Jimmy Connors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broke Down And Busted
Look at this empty face,
Look at this broken frame
I have been no other place
And you know I've heard no other name.
How can you keep me so?
How can I let it go?
I look the worst that you've ever seen
Is it too much to ask what that's supposed to mean?
You've been playin' around and I played the part
Of a broke-down man with a busted heart.
Reach out a hand and see
What you have made of me
Take a good hard look and then
Close your eyes and
Ask yourself again
How can you keep me so?
How can I let it go?
You know that I would go anywhere
That I could go in my old wheelchair
Though I wouldn't get far 'til it fell apart
I'm a broke down man with a busted heart.
How can you keep me so?
How can I let it go?
You know my state as you hear my song
You'll change your mind if I live that long
Couldn't start it again
Nothing's left to start
But a busted man with a broke-down heart.
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lame Game
It's all the same,
When a game is played lame!
It's all the same...
A lame game!
It's all the same,
When a game is played lame!
And the game
Being played...
Is so lame!
It's all the same,
When a game is played lame!
It's all the same.
A lame game!
It's all the same,
When a game is played lame,
And the game being played
By the players who play...
Is so tired and lame anyway!
And lame it will stay everyday!
'Cause they 'got no' shame
To play such tired games
Knowing it's all the same,
When a game is played lame!
And the game stays the same
'Cause no one wants to change
From a game that is lame..
And each day that lame game,
Stays the same!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weak and Much Flawed
Not only was the game played,
By your rules.
Those that played,
Stifled their own created visions...
To do what you wished,
Exactly your way.
And now you say,
What has been done...
Were mistakes you laid,
And should have been interpreted...
From thoughts you did not reveal.
Because what has been obtained,
Has for you no appeal.
However...
Not only was the game played,
By your rules.
Those that played,
Stifled their own created visions...
To do what you wished,
Exactly your way.
And now you say,
What has been done...
Were mistakes you laid,
And should have been interpreted...
From thoughts you did not reveal.
Is this because you are feeling used?
And you had desires to abuse?
Don't confuse the issue.
Sit back to use the tissues left.
Or take your tears...
To others more willing to open their ears.
And have no idea,
Your deceits are weak and much flawed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Stay The Best Of Kids
I have played with my children the same way,
On a daily basis.
Everyday.
And...
For most of their lives I have been in sight.
So do not try to reprimand me,
About my inability to be a good parent.
I raised my kids the best I could,
To be good children and nothing more.
'And...
Who played the role of the adult?
While you and your children played,
To stay the best of kids,
Most of your lives? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World Divided
The world first is one
And then it’s divided
To explore the world
And search a better home
The world is divided
And then it united again
By the passion to conquer the world
And find forever glory
The world is united
And then it’s divided again
The rule of living is placed
And the game of power is played
The world is divided
And then it’s blurred
In the darkness of fate
And moral questioned
The world is united
And then it’s shattered
By the nature’s tragedy
And evolution selection
The world is divided
And it tries to be united again
To end meaningless war
And look for compromise peace
The world is united
And then it’s more divided
Of prejudice and pride
And the lust of money
The world is divided
And it’s waiting to be united again
By the dream of children
And the love in the heart
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Tuba
I was once in a band
in school long ago
when the Poison was big
as their hair
When I was a lad
I played a Golden Tuba
and marched all
over the land
We played in parks
for elderly folks
we played in the gym
for our parents
but mine weren't there
We marched in parades
and my Tuba shined
because I polished it
every day and night
I was so proud of that
Tuba and the sound it
produced that I played
it at home in my room
marching in place
like the whole band
was there
and such pride, such pride
until Dad broke it.
poem by John W. McEwers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broke Down & Busted
Look at this empty face,
Look at this broken frame
I have been no other place
And you know Ive heard no other name.
How can you keep me so?
How can I let it go?
I look the worst that youve ever seen
Is it too much to ask what thats supposed to mean?
Youve been playin around and I played the part
Of a broke-down man with a busted heart.
Reach out a hand and see
What you have made of me
Take a good hard look and then
Close your eyes and
Ask yourself again
How can you keep me so?
How can I let it go?
You know that I would go anywhere
That I could go in my old wheelchair
Though I wouldnt get far til it fell apart
Im a broke down man with a busted heart.
How can you keep me so?
How can I let it go?
You know my state as you hear my song
Youll change your mind if I live that long
Couldnt start it again
Nothings left to start
But a busted man with a broke-down heart.
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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2010 World Cup
2010 World Cup,
Two brothers played against each other for different countries!
And they were 'Jerome Boateng' who played for Germany and,
His half-brother 'Kevin-Prince Boateng' who played for Ghana;
And Germany won the match by 1-0.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Upright Piano
For as long as I remember, when friday night came round
The family would gather out at grandpas house.
With supper over and the dishes done
It was then the best time came
At an old upright piano that only grandma played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
Grandpa was a stubborn man, they said it was his style.
Grandma called him ornery, but she said it with a smile.
Even he could not disguise the love he felt so strong;
We all could see it in his eyes when she played his favorite song.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
I was almost 17 when my grandma died;
I stayed all night with grandpa; the old man never cried.
He sat at her piano, there was nothing we could say
It was the first time in my life I ever heard my grandpa play.
It wasnt beautiful dreamer or my wild irish rose
It was a song he played from memory & he never missed a note
I sat right there beside him until the morning came
What a friend we have in jesus was the only song he played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The reason I am here, they tell me, is that I played the game a certain way, that I played the game the way it was supposed to be played.
quote by Ryne Sandberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day and Night The Piano Played
Day and night the piano played
Never once did the soft notes stray
Over and over on and on they played
During my short stay t
Day and night, night and day
The same soft notes were played
Never did they stray the same notes
Played again and again night and day
The music wandered and wandered
Until with me it stayed
And I began to whistle night and day
The same soft notes over and over
Again and again and again I played
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Google actually relies on our users to help with our marketing. We have a very high percentage of our users who often tell others about our search engine.
quote by Sergey Brin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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