A babies crying beat, expose its inner hide
A hollow sound with “Quote un Quote”
Acoustic sounding vibe
We have been programmed to walk and never miss a beat
But dance with the devil
Cause Christians only sing
And it’s hard to sing along
When the mass speaks in tongue
I’m lost in translation
But can’t find the script
(It’s all in your mind)
Like an abstract acid trip
Chemically produced
Over spoken word
Absurd
TELL GOD I SAID HELLO
The noise may drown us, but we breathe on.
Locked behind these doors of wood and glass, may contain us, but we breathe on.
Gods forgotten children play in the schoolyard, rust and nails tear our flesh but we breathe on.
Faith is an empty notion when doubt is a mindstate, they may mold your mind to meet their expectations, forever changed, never releasing the repression deep within, we breathe on.
The children run through the halls banging buckles on the lockers, someone will be at the head of that mob, covering, cowering, fighting to keep the steel fixtures from tearing away thier humanity, the boy lays there limp, flesh swollen, and mouth bleeding, can you feel his passion, the boy is forever changed, but he breathes on.
Snickers and laughs in the chapel, the pastor holds the attention, now everyone stares, looking at him as if he is the devil...and he breathes on.
Now a man, no more than a boy, no more than the same blood spilled a million times, for a million smiles, forever changed, forever scarred, forever pessimistic, cold and calus his heart beats, but feels no pain, no joy, no happiness, no sorrow. The boy has grown waery and weak but yet has the strength of a man and a mind thats weathered the storm. MMedication, Sedation, Meditation, Masturbation, repeat till death.
Life is a mystery that left him back in the hallowed halls of the house that man built for GOD. Its a shame that the footprints left in the sand didnt show children in tow.
Cease
Purge the evolution of the pig
Purify his soul are you kosher in the eyes of Christ
Create a thought
So we can drown it in our holy excuse we call life
Cease to believe and become filth
You’re a thorn in my side
A crown of lust we’ve created
A miracle in the making
Sarcasm
Were you faking
Satisfaction was your payment disguised in satire
A pun of an excuse
Created to confuse individuals
Word of mouth
A scary fucking scenario
LOL
It’s hard to commit silence with your mouth wide open
So paint a picture with your corpse and title it incomplete
Your only half the man you use to be
GOD HELP US
Friday, March 28, 2008
A little Known Fact About Nothing
I’m selfish but deserving, in a concerning way
I’m a train wreck, still on track
I’m a fact, but I’ve been known to be wrong
I’m a lover, who’s still aroused by song
(Let’s get it on)
I’m a freedom fighter with one love, me
A medicated zombie, who survived abortion
But was affected by disease
Sort of ironic, in an I told you so sort of way
Smear it in your face and call it disgrace
I’m a chalk line, for a body that’s yet to be traced
A dead in your face type approach
I’m an ashtray full of roaches, watch as I get you high
Exhale poetically
I’m a picture perfect poet; with a fuck you and I know type penmanship
I’m the fatal aftershock, of my mother and fathers 1 minute earthquake
Way to go dad very heroic
Make me leave me you should receive an Emmy for acting like such a pitiful man
I’m an over watched reality show, could someone turn me off
I’m that bitter taste tequila left behind, better chase me with a lemon I’m 28 and short on time
I’m your TV dinner, but you have to supply the tray
Catch my drift I’m selfish
I walk, talk, and speak for myself; I eat, shit, and sleep by myself
I’m lonely but refuse to change
Therefore, if you want me you have to rearrange
An I’m not into lifestyles, I’m a Trojan man a lay down let me take control type of man
A trend that never ended
A one hit wonder still pretending
Such a surreal life
A talk show host, and I’m the guest
I know all about me
I’m selfish in a deserving way
A little know fact about nothing
Living the American dream
A studio apartment with cable TV
Two jobs and neither coincide with my associate’s degree
A disappointment not only to me
Sorry parents didn’t mean to waste your money
Better you than me
I’m determined to be nothing and at least that’s something
Sometimes I wonder,
Why smoke, why dream, why do these things that just always seem to be the wrong things?
Everyones in my corner yet still waiting for me to fall, fall not fail, im incapable of failing.
But the for the most part its still a race to the finish, when will it end, no telling?
Stuck, fucked, and been down on my luck, hard times fall just as fast as an anvil, yet still hit the ground same time as a feather, cant tell where the final destination is but i can see the weather.
Black clouds, rolls of thunder followed by crashes of natures fury ,stil writhing 2 many wrongs are still able to be right.
Another sleepless night, even though i had 8 hours sleep, subconsciensely im tired, and still in this waist deep.
There are no lines between angels and insects just wings, and mine are so corroded and scabbed i cant flap, so why sing?
Life is a journey, not an adventure, keep your bullshit core commercials for the kiddies, im stuck in this rainy city, have no pity, have no hope, just stuck down on my luck, wheres that fuckin rope?
A little known fact about nothing is more than what i got, what i got is clout and steam, lots of smoke and pot.
Come to think of it i have alot more than air in my lungs, so maybe there is hope.
I just woke up from a 2 year dream, kids , wife, new home, nice things. was i asleep and how long was i out?
My dreams are my realities and thats all i have to be happy about!
I’m a train wreck, still on track
I’m a fact, but I’ve been known to be wrong
I’m a lover, who’s still aroused by song
(Let’s get it on)
I’m a freedom fighter with one love, me
A medicated zombie, who survived abortion
But was affected by disease
Sort of ironic, in an I told you so sort of way
Smear it in your face and call it disgrace
I’m a chalk line, for a body that’s yet to be traced
A dead in your face type approach
I’m an ashtray full of roaches, watch as I get you high
Exhale poetically
I’m a picture perfect poet; with a fuck you and I know type penmanship
I’m the fatal aftershock, of my mother and fathers 1 minute earthquake
Way to go dad very heroic
Make me leave me you should receive an Emmy for acting like such a pitiful man
I’m an over watched reality show, could someone turn me off
I’m that bitter taste tequila left behind, better chase me with a lemon I’m 28 and short on time
I’m your TV dinner, but you have to supply the tray
Catch my drift I’m selfish
I walk, talk, and speak for myself; I eat, shit, and sleep by myself
I’m lonely but refuse to change
Therefore, if you want me you have to rearrange
An I’m not into lifestyles, I’m a Trojan man a lay down let me take control type of man
A trend that never ended
A one hit wonder still pretending
Such a surreal life
A talk show host, and I’m the guest
I know all about me
I’m selfish in a deserving way
A little know fact about nothing
Living the American dream
A studio apartment with cable TV
Two jobs and neither coincide with my associate’s degree
A disappointment not only to me
Sorry parents didn’t mean to waste your money
Better you than me
I’m determined to be nothing and at least that’s something
Sometimes I wonder,
Why smoke, why dream, why do these things that just always seem to be the wrong things?
Everyones in my corner yet still waiting for me to fall, fall not fail, im incapable of failing.
But the for the most part its still a race to the finish, when will it end, no telling?
Stuck, fucked, and been down on my luck, hard times fall just as fast as an anvil, yet still hit the ground same time as a feather, cant tell where the final destination is but i can see the weather.
Black clouds, rolls of thunder followed by crashes of natures fury ,stil writhing 2 many wrongs are still able to be right.
Another sleepless night, even though i had 8 hours sleep, subconsciensely im tired, and still in this waist deep.
There are no lines between angels and insects just wings, and mine are so corroded and scabbed i cant flap, so why sing?
Life is a journey, not an adventure, keep your bullshit core commercials for the kiddies, im stuck in this rainy city, have no pity, have no hope, just stuck down on my luck, wheres that fuckin rope?
A little known fact about nothing is more than what i got, what i got is clout and steam, lots of smoke and pot.
Come to think of it i have alot more than air in my lungs, so maybe there is hope.
I just woke up from a 2 year dream, kids , wife, new home, nice things. was i asleep and how long was i out?
My dreams are my realities and thats all i have to be happy about!
Labels:
dark literature,
depression,
inspiration,
mans truth,
motivational,
self reflection,
smoke
About Us
Collaboration is a structured, recursive process where two or more people work together toward a common goal—typically an intellectual endeavor[1] [2] that is creative in nature[3]—by sharing knowledge, learning and building consensus. Collaboration does not require leadership and can sometimes bring better results through decentralization and egalitarianism.[4] In particular, teams that work collaboratively can obtain greater resources, recognition and reward when facing competition for finite resources.[5]
Structured methods of collaboration encourage introspection of behavior and communication.[4] These methods specifically aim to increase the success of teams as they engage in collaborative problem solving. Forms, rubrics, charts and graphs are useful in these situations to objectively document personal traits with the goal of improving performance in current and future projects.
Structured methods of collaboration encourage introspection of behavior and communication.[4] These methods specifically aim to increase the success of teams as they engage in collaborative problem solving. Forms, rubrics, charts and graphs are useful in these situations to objectively document personal traits with the goal of improving performance in current and future projects.
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