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twistedgear

Call me,"Sexy" without saying it
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Instead of a simple idea ,maybe a more complex idea would in fact be better though writing it is a whole different story. I need to practice some grammar ,being slothful must be my sin ,how lucky am I!  

(ignore title ,title is pun from Romanian bun prophecy.) Tis not a lie til I am caught. 
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I didn't get the memo though ,darn it! 
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I didn't get the memo though ,darn it! 
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I thought happiness would happen the day I found societies groove for me ,to mesh with the machine that's been tormenting me. Does it speak ,or so the old saying goes ,"Actions speak louder than words." I'm a hole ,yes a hole ,perhaps inventive but still left alone ,do you wish to dwell in the dark ,light might make you happy ,yet those still discouraging remarks. Faint ,displaced ,alone ,desecrate ,it's all so sappy ,isn't it the lie of a few who are rich ,no poor I'd say , poor in the worst way. I'd state the facts ,though what's the use? blind faith is death to the followers of charisma ,I'll leave it be to burn anew ,to make soldiers out of hopeless fools that thought in their hearts ,just as I ,"I will live again." my conscience never resurrected ,neither my brother or my sister did I see ,the light I glimpsed ,sadly it took away my wings.
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Gasp for the air that you breathe in ,while the cigarette burns away keeping back the demons you've held at bay ,is this a dream or just a demented fantasy in the head ,does this speak for the mind ,oh it doesn't get a say does it? maybe Jesus just wasn't sure , God spoke to man ,though we're less than half ,humanity infested half. Flesh meshed with bone ,metal works of thee unknown ,creators of such things as it crushes closed this open grave that is my mouth ,leaving the maggot to squirm as the pills are taken down. 
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Featured

I'm so lonely ,so I dealt with it! by twistedgear, journal

Then God gave us grammar! by twistedgear, journal

Then God gave us grammar! by twistedgear, journal

Cult equals happiness/with crisis of conscience by twistedgear, journal

Of poets who didn't know it by twistedgear, journal