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Found 6 results

  1. This poem is something i wish i had the guts to say to my shrink. of course if i did, he'd tell me he'd want to see me more often. "Tell me, why do you feel this way?" Because you're being a f---ing a--hole to me Telling me that what i feel, my heart's desire it's all wrong Telling me to supress it, ignore it, control it You da-- normals are all alike carrying on the charade, the facade that life's OK, well, it's a fraud Spewing stuff professors told you to say when you come across a man with suicidal tendencies Not really listening to anyone maybe if you did, you'd change your mind and learn something useful And listen to something besides money for a change. You da-- normals are all alike with your s&*^-eating grin upon your face Feeling smug cuz your happy, well, it's a disgrace Give the prescription for Abilify scribble it out with your pen that says "Pfeizer" on it And tell me to take this placebo they're selling It's not working, doctor, but I won't tell you that because you're a stupid f---ing idiot Who's full of s--- You da-- normals are all alike feeling all happy and proud of it Well listen to me, life is *(&@ You act like you're better than me Just because i want to die and you don't well maybe i want to die because you're better than me i want to die because everyone's better than me if it will make you end spewing hate speech about retards, i will pull that trigger and end my life you da-- normals are all alike you'll never see that life sucks because nothing is going wrong for you did i tell you to give me an answer printed in a textbook? did i tell you i don't care what you say? did i tell you i'm not even listening to you? did i tell you i'm saying i feel fine because i want you to shut the f--- up? did i tell you if i hear the word "wrong" one more time i will do something to you you won't like? did i tell you you're a f(** (*&hole? you da-- normals are all alike trudging through the day for no reason don't you know you will die in the end?
  2. This poem I wrote is about my experience in a kind-of-mental-hospital when I was in my early teens, thus beginning my "depression" and "need" to take drugs like Abilify. I was fortunately good enough not to go into the "padded room." I got more than just bread and water. I never have worn a straitjacket, I didn't hear voices in my head, either, but i did slit my wrists. Kind of silly now that I think about it. I mean, if I really wanted to die, I'd just take a whole bottle of tylenol with a jug of wine. Unfortunately, my mom doesn't like hard liquor, so hopefully wine would be strong enough to do the job. I might just write a poem describing my entire life, from the time when I was born up until the present. This would be stuck somewhere in the middle (right now at least.) as i awaken from my slumber i find myself in a padded room the same one where i spent many nights before and as i sit upon the floor there is nothing I’d like more than the pain to go away i tried to commit suicide and just because i haven’t died they stick me here and throw away the key just because they’ll never see why it sucks to be me those damn doctors are going to pay so all you do is slap a jacket on one with straps so i won’t be gone death would sure be nice but i cannot think twice i need to think life will suffice cuz that’s what “normal” people say i get my daily bread and water and the room is getting hotter just because i want to die i am such a last-class guy and all i do is sit and sigh every single fucking day i am such a troubled teen the worst case the doctors have ever seen and when the day is done and when to rest down goes the sun i have finally begun to sleep and sleep is so OK dream of demons down in Hell everything is going well as i watch mr. doctor liar burning in the lake of fire my spirits are so higher and in the dream i want to stay but i am rustled from my sleep by some stupid dumb nurse creep it is time to go to therapy. as i make my way down the hall i hear the voices call the voices in my head say they want me dead when i slit my wrists they bled i did it just to keep the noise at bay so i sit there on the couch i start to gaze i start to slouch my eyes glazed over i’m a grouch and as they go across the room one by one they speak of doom they list the reasons why they’re here with me in the room of fear and as i shed a tear i feel like the prey when they finally come to me i say i have suicidal tendencies and i explain my case to them telling all just what i am and where my problems stem and when i’m done i think hooray and as the doctors ramble on i wish that my life was gone i don’t listen to a word all their thoughts are so absurd why do they treat me like a turd wipe me off with a bidet and as i go back to my bed still wishing that i was dead the floor beneath me it does creak not a word do i speak cuz my future’s looking bleak i crawl onto my bed and lay and as i look outside i see all the “normal” people walking free holding umbrellas for the rain even though their lives are plain i bet they have no pain as the clouds are turning gray i close my eyes and dream awhile dream out of this place so vile what good is keeping me here? i wish the docs would make it clear and my “sad” thoughts disappear why must the rules of normalcy i obey? there’s no hope of leaving this place the frown will stay upon my face why do they want me to suffer so? i’d be happier if i got to go doctors, what do they know about the games we have to play?
  3. I didn't have anything special planned for today's entry, but recently I'd been thinking about some of the more cringeworthy poems I've written over the years. What? Of course I'm going to post them here for all the world to see! It's an exercise in confidence. What are people gonna do, cyberbully me for being a crappy poet? Ha! what a joke. The following two poems both hail from late 2014. They're pretty bad. Please don't laugh. A MINECRAFT POEM Spawned The sun shines from the east Beneath you Upon the sleeping earth Though you wear no shoes Your feet feel as such Because they are calloused From ages atop this dry soil For years, you toiled You created; you destroyed Yet there still lies uncharted territory Beyond the horizon And across the sea Your destination is upon you And as the thick blackness floods your lungs You fire at the sky Determined to find the End For your own glory And satisfaction But though you had slain her She is not truly gone Her seed you bear As a reminder and a hope That one day The fiery square will set And you With her offspring by your side Will carry on Until there is nothing Left To explore Meh. The next one is even worse. ODE TO A GARTER SNAKE Be still, my friend, though thy movements are graceful, Consequences come from the things unseen. Keep a watchful eye, lest they be detected In the midst of thy sagebrush serene. Close thy mouth and hide thy teeth; Keep away from thine enemies. But O, my true friend, once they are gone, Forgive them for their monstrosities. The hatred of mankind cannot be contained, But alas, I have my duty. Without thee I go, but in my heart, I still proclaim thy beauty. *SIGH* Just... ugh. Please don't write like this, folks. I'll close out the night with a haiku. I don't know when this is from, or if it is even my own work. Frankly though, I doubt the author would care. Hippopotamus This is a haiku I wrote Refrigerator
  4. Vectrexer

    Vectrex Poems

    Vectrex Poems. Thread is over on Vector Gaming Forums. http://vectorgaming.proboards.com/thread/258/vectrex-poems
  5. MEMOIRS OF A NOVELTY ACCOUNT VOL. III, ISSUE II So I guess I will not be writing a Gradius novelization. Oh well. I hope a poem will do for you guys. TO THE UNKNOWN RAIL SHOOTER When threatened thus, consider all that’s made In vague prevention, pining for the sky: They say you’re saving lives with hardened blade, But who could manufacture such a lie? Alight with wings built on the backs of slaves… To say it often makes the meaning die. What else can we accomplish fighting waves, Relentless surf behind to take their place? For fluid forms receive malignant graves – An ending wrought upon themselves in space, Where tribulation keeps in view its tail But never dares to show its solemn face. So presentation henceforth shall prevail. Until they’re dead, just shoot; you’re on a rail.
  6. MEMOIRS OF A NOVELTY ACCOUNT VOL. II, ISSUE VI Gudday ond welkom ta Imperiyal Mundays. Dis ebenin, I be prezentin a pome I writ, call'd "Skyentist". Enjoi. SKYENTIST It’s 12 PM And her students ask “Does a bigger force exist?” “The book doesn’t say,” She says with a sigh. “Ask the Skyentist.” The children go home And say to this force “Who rules the universe?” “The book wouldn’t say,” Its echo replies. “Ask your teacher first.” Feetur'd Fotograf: Flags in Berlin.
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