Network

Will someone explain this inner demon that haunts many
Maybe this clouded consciousness has finally expired
Was it was some test on the people as if we were lab rats
Maybe depression is some psy-op posing as clinical truth

Drug companies have a cure for everything, and nothing
Basic life instructions seem to condition us all and are obeyed
The media gives us our opinions and sells us on the latest trend
They solve pending court cases and propogate the newest truth

Our own government created and maintains a welfare nation
Rights of the poor are just that, poor, slaves to the upper clases
No one ever fights for that welfare family, especially that welfare family
The powers that be have one goal, and that is to exploit the sufferings of others

We should send all media outlets on a fact finding mission, on the moon
Then bring the American listeners hard facts, while standing on that sound stage
Debrief all the network slaves through techniques I won't even go into and post the answers online
The mainstream media is a terrorist organization, we have all come to accept

Written by deathsbackdoor

"Chicken Hunting and Culling The Herd"

or..."Dichotomous Diatribe"
 
Offensively curious people disrupt the natural balance.
Claiming to be righteous, they speak of love and romance.
It would be a better world if they just stayed silent.
They know who they are, rotten inside to the core.
There's no beauty in these beasts, them even the God's deplore.
Flipping through our letters, they're just fearful bedwetters,
 seeking redemption from their many imperfections.
No personal introspection, they get continual rejection.
Prying eyes telling lies, living in their
trailer park pigsties, somewhere, who really cares.
Snoopy neighbors constantly watching us,
making unnecessary fuss, they're nasty as pus.
Cocksure pricks, needing a hard head slap with a hickory stick.
That would do the trick, knock they're brains out of their noggin,
maybe some flogging, too.  And tell 'em, "Screw you!"
Sinful sphincters, losers, not victors.
What if they fell in a pit of twenty-foot boa constrictors?
It would serve them right for their sleights.
I pray for it with all my might.  How about tonight!
A worthless, clueless lot, ranting ridiculous incantations, just snots that
need to be shot with double-aught buck.  Oh, it's just their bad luck.
Rubberneckers creating traffic jams, needing not one, but several wham whams.
Masquerading as writers, spewing mindless prose about things they do not know,
I'm hoping they just blow away with the rest of the tumbleweeds and hayseeds, inbreeds.
They call themselves Masters of The Art, I call them worthless body parts.
Obscene, mean and vulgar, they need to be drawn and quartered, thrown out as carrion
to the vultures and other scavengers, including the jackals and grackles.
Oh, let us bring back English Law penalty culture to those who insult us!  
It was more civilized than these emotional pretenders, they're not real contenders,
they cause just more stupid ruckus.
Worthless small shrews, lacking any prominence, not worth even a single halfpence.
Again, their smooth lips and elegant pens talk of love and romance.
Really?
I say, "Okay, bend over, pull down your pants,
I got something for your romance, hungry red ants for that stance."
Renegade inhumans like these should be penalized on their knees for good reason.
They've committed
High Treason and crimes
against those of
us with a pure heart.
What do you say,
let's start today!?

Written by Strider

Come Undone

Swallow the blemish
flavoured skewed cocktail
that you poured so freely
once upon I shall never forget

Force fed by your clawed hand

The intravenous drip that you
attached to my soul
blinding poison
swirling darkness
as hate drips from my very core
diluting in it's wake

There is no breaking me
as I watch you fall
I spill your own doing
down your unwilling throat
so needy now as you choke

It just makes me loathe you all the more

Your acid coated chains that bound
my hands and feet
melted and mixed with the blood
dripping from your unworthy heart

I paint in red
a picture of you
as you come undone.

Written by Magdalena

GOING POSTAL

We all wonder why
Some people lose it
Some rant and rave
Others just shoot it


Just look at our lives
Nasty, brutish and very long
Enough injustices pile up
To undo even the strong


We are not only dangerous
As a military force
Each of us is capable
Of doing damage in 1000s of ways


Bullying, cheating, insulting, beating
Road rage, ignoring, not caring
Raping, snubbing, belittling and taunting
Happen every day to someone in the USA


If you are lucky to be balanced
And can let it run off your back
You are wise to turn a blind eye
Vengeance is so bad for your soul


Children and emotionally abused adults
Have it piled on high, can do nothing
To defend themselves except scream and shout
These are ignored, to the harm of many


One a day a person can take no more
Suicide is the first choice
It does not always work
Homicide is so effective
You hurt them and they kill you


Sticks and stones can break your bones
But WORDS can HURT YOU
Be careful what you say to people
Some people are hand grenades

Written by somelikeithot

Dear.

One moment
seconds dripping with need
Fingers hungry for flesh, reaching
breath held in hunger, want
I'll show you what she can't do
As I taste blood through my lip
My heartbeat pulsates through my body
Can you hear it?
Can you just taste it?

I'll wrap you in my body, in my words
in all the shameless acts I perform on you
all the fantasies you have of me
I want to tease you with my lips
Torture you with my fingers
Delight you in my soul
Confine you completely in the idea of me
Take you so far inside me you get lost there
I want to scratch her fingerprints off your skin
then brand you myself,
Claim you as incredibly, deliciously,
irrevocably mine,
Entwine love and fuck into a yarn
spin it around you so tight you can't see,
and once you are enraptured in the thought of me,
I will fuck your best friend
shoving this hurt right back into you,
then walk away and leave you for emotionally dead.

Dear.

Written by beautiful_accident

I'm Not the Daughter of Your Dreams.

I know life fucked you over young,
and I get it that you work hard.
I've heard you never got to have fun,
and yes, you told me of your broken heart.
 
Mom, you gotta grow up sometime,
you can't stay 16 forever.
You're quitting jobs and pinching dimes,
saying, "we gotta stay together."
 
I blame myself, just like you do,
for Daddy's death and our situation.
All the tears I've cried, you have no clue.
Mom, all these years I've been so patient.
 
Please quit calling me a whore,
and if you can, stop selling drugs?
Hun, I know you're insecure.
That's no excuse to fuck brainless thugs.
 
You used to have a heart,
I recall that, somewhere inside.
While it seems you've grown apart,
you've locked it up, or tossed it aside.
 
I don't mean to chastise you,
but could you chastise me?
Don't let me have sex in your room,
and dude, grow up. Don't give me weed.
 
I appreciate the freedom,
but this is just too much.
While you don't have to believe it,
I tend to give in to lust.

Written by KristynAshley.

I Release Me

I´m fed up with the monotony
of waking up to the same routine
everyday;
the same problems
the same worries
the same aspirations
the same goals,
roaming like a nomad
drunk on the present
in the early hours
of this city, this lifestyle.

I´m fed up with having
all the time to do everything
without enough time for
anything, to spend another minute
not holding you
not being with you,
with being love sick.

I´m fed up with wealth
my social class, prosperity,
the white picket fence,
with experts
with America
with Europe,
with all the things
I´ve ever been taught.

I´m fed up with
always being distracted
by mindless distractions,
with T.V., fast food
and no one saying
what they really think,
with apathy and society.

I´m fed up with
being a nice young man
who will graduate from a top 100 school
who will make alot of money
who will make everyone proud
who will do the right thing

I´m fed up with poetry,
with having to scream
into the coffee-stained pages
of a notebook, and listen
to your crap because
you´ve memorized all the right words.

Written by matthew bass

Our power!

Hypocrites
and Bureaucrats
Clogging my brain
Why aren't the people seeing red
and posting threads
about what should be said,

We must fight for our power,
Our freedom of speech

I should be preaching to the choir,
the long time converted
instead I find ignorance abound

It's your life,
It's your voice,
Don't give away your choice!

Written by Duncan Alexander (Duncan)

Corrosion of conformity

Their was a time when I was very unique;
The way I dressed to the way I speak. 
I had my piercings and my tattoos
Now I'm old hate; just old news. 

I have always believed if you can't be true to anyone else;
Don't fall a victim, and not be true to yourself. 
Conforming is the new way these days;
To the way we look, or even our kids we raise. 

They want us to look like the people of the mass;
I will not conform: they can kiss my ass!
I am what I am; this is all I know how to be;
If you don't like they way I look; don't look at me. 

I do not walk with a lowered head;
I choose to look right at you instead. 
I know I have nothing to hide;
As you walk around; your feelings trapped deep inside. 

I know I have pains that are all of my own;
From you trying to conform me; no rules written in stone. 
Act this and that way, the way you were born;
I'm not sorry: I will not conform. 

I will dress and look like what I feel;
I'm not a minuteman I am truly real. 
I am no different that you to I;
The only thing that is different: to myself to choose not to lie. 

You can be what ever to want to be;
I will stick to my faith; corrosion of conformity. 
I will live my life how I see fit;
Your opinion doesn't matter; it doesn't mean shit. 

So don't you judge me because I am me;
I know who I am, and know what I see. 
I am true amongst my kind;
I have my freedom of speech: I have my own mind. 

I will not sympathies if your life is wrong;
Maybe it's because you have conformed way to long. 
Weather I know you or not...you see;
No matter what I will always be me. 

I will not conform to the standards that you've set so high;
The new world order; from me you can kiss that good-bye. 
No matter what you may think of what you see. 
I still will be true and I will always now that I am me. 

So for those who think that we live your ways;
The day that I conform to your way; it will be truly the end of days. 

So I say to your conformity of your world;
I know what my goals are: what I'm working toward. 
I will not judge you if you do the same;
If you have nothing from conformity...well ain't that a shame. 

So which direction that you may chose;
I know in my heart; I have nothing to lose. 
So conform to that this world of cost;
It is your expense: your life its cost. 

This may be the silence before the storm;
I will still stand strong and never conform!

Written by Atropabelladonna

Red Motivation

Ice burns with cold fire.
In the sun movements are no longer limited.
Potential hides behind a lazy will.
The light is seen and can be worked.
When someone's so low all they dream is higher.
I'm going to do this and that they say.
Share and communicate with friends only to be deemed a liar.
Why expose myself when I'd rather remain rare.
Hate is everything money is about, it can make or strongly break you.
Was I ever on top?
Life goes in one of two ways, up or down or down and up.
Is this what happens in the result of bad decisions?
Sorry if my words sometimes are harsh.
I try not to be that.
As I try to move faster than I've ever been before, that's my scream.
What has really changed?
Moved as always things keep being rearranged.
Sometimes I just want to remain in a calm warm place.
Not saying that I'd hide away and give up life's short race.

Written by ClearmindedVillain