I’m painting a picture of my mystique.
Of my crooked lines and strange physique.
I’m fulfilling my part of the self-love pledges.
And refusing to brush away my rough edges.
I’m showing the rewards of my foolish lies.
And proudly displaying the circles beneath my eyes.
My skin bears gifts from the morning sun.
And scars from childhood fun.
I’m painting a picture of nature’s grand.
I’m painting a portrait of me.
by TOKONI O. UTI
© All rights reserved 2014
There is a war going on,
Two foes battling each other,
Trying to bring the other down,
Playing unfair games without restraint,
And it all takes place,
In my brain.
My brain is at war,
Competing with itself,
Left versus right,
Without result,
Always coming down to a draw,
Nothing but an endless.
There is a war going on,
Two bitter enemies battling each other,
Trying to put the other in the ground,
Firing away without restraint,
And it all takes place,
In my brain.
My brain is at war,
Forcing itself,
To finally unite my splitted mind,
But no result,
Always comes down to a draw,
It’s nothing but an endless war.
by PROSPERMIND
© All rights reserved 2014
I swirl around this world, taking delight,
When people stumble, making mistakes
And having doubt,
When you cry, I smile…
When you fight, I jump for joy…
When you look in your past, I dance all about…
I am an equal opportunist,
Black or white,
Big or small, I don’t care…
Male or female,
Young or old, I don’t care…
It doesn’t matter where you live,
I will always find you…
All I need is the smallest of cracks,
And I will work my way in,
And before you know it,
You will be consumed with me.
I will spread inside you,
Until you can’t see and feel anything else…
Your soul will be as dark as coal,
And all consumed with me.
Then it will be mine to keep.
I will put your soul on my mantle,
Another trophy, another prize…
For my case,
Who am I you say…
I start out very small, but can grow bigger
Than the biggest mountains,
Deeper than all the oceans,
For I am REGRET…
by PURPLE CREATURE
© All rights reserved 2014
A walking corpse filled with anguish and dread,
The sign of a soul that has too often been bled.
Why would his bright light simply burn out?
Possibly because he is damaged throughout.
Eyes once shined with the innocence of youth,
Now doused by the creeping melancholy of untruth.
Dark and twisted, the only facets of his character,
A battle to the finish where he is not the victor.
Everyday going through the same arduous motions,
Lacking steady faith or unmatched devotion.
He is but a shadow, a stigma on our society
Craving a full blown invasion of privacy.
Exist he does but on a whole other plane,
Stuck on this bleak level, bound by chain.
Creating a shadow but never to leave a mark,
Not on our lives but only in the dark.
by OBSIDIAN VISIONARY
© All rights reserved 2014
There’s a memoir somewhere around here
That bears my name engraved in bold on the front cover
Just the same as words cut deep in a headstone
A novel written on broken dreams with fallen tears
And a slap in the face to the one who creates
I’m nauseated by my own philosophy
And I won’t claim the pages as my own anymore
All they’ve done is rip me off with their clever lies
But it’s my turn to do the ripping now
So I’m sitting on this dirty window sill
Tearing out all my chapters page by page
Watching the wind carry them away one by one
But it isn’t as simple as I make it sound
Like a spider bite on the inside
Every rip stings my heart a little bit
Ten years have just gone out the window
By sitting in it for just three months
It’s been ninety-nine days today
And now I’m in need of a massive re-write
Because all that’s left are two covers and a spine
But I won’t be the writer this time around
God the Creator is my author now
So the new edition is sure to sell
by RY HAKARI
© All rights reserved 2014
unbolt me 