I've had a rough time at work this last two weeks. And this following poem is releasing my stress. So please no one on theotaku.com take offense. I'm just expressing my displeasure with some nasty people in my life. No one on here has ever treated me in any way but awesome. Thanks for that. Now on to my poetic rant.
I’ve got so much inspiration.
All your sick insinuations.
And your righteous indignation.
And all of my frustration.
It all gives me elation. Such high elevation.
The ultimate equation,
is of my own making.
All the crap that I’m taking.
The face that I’m faking.
Is all that you’ll never see.
That you’ll never believe.
Look at me.
I went from nothing.
To being something.
I’m everything you’ll never be.
And I’ll never stop.
Until I hit the top.
Or I’m forced to drop.
But it’s better than not,
giving my all. Or setting to fall.
I’ve got more than that.
I won’t fall off track.
And I’m not going back.
You can try to replace me.
Attempt to erase me.
But I still can’t be stopped.
I’m trapped in this freestyle thought.
No point and no choice.
Just me and the pen lifting my voice.
So maybe you’ll see.
The truth to believe.
That there is more than just hate, inside the real me.
This poem is based off of the movie versions of Vivian and Adian and the passion they felt toward each other.
Combine blood and chocolate.
It is time.
I love you, love me.
Leave the past behind.
I’ll make you mine.
The pyre has been built.
Set fire to the wind.
Purification of our hearts.
Sears our souls within.
Now we can begin.
Mix faith and power.
Let the night hold sway.
Give to me, I’ll give to you.
Let actions my thoughts covey.
Don’t let my confession be in vain.
Twist pain and pleasure.
And take all of my trust.
Let me take you, you take me.
And drown us in our lust.
Just leave us.
You and me.
The height of elevation.
I want, you need.
Give up the depravation.
Give way to the two of us.
This is our purification.
Hello fellow otaku.com members. Sorry that I've been scarce for a few months now. I've just started at a new university. I now attend the Long Ridge Writers Group Collage and it's extremly taxing. Projects take a lot of my time. And it's now the busy ski season for our ski resort town, I'm working almost 47hrs a week. I just wanted to stop by and let you know that I still love the otaku.com and as soon as I get the hang of my time managment I've got a lot of new poetry and short stories to post on here to share with you all. So I'm apologize once again and thanks for taking the time to check this long winded post out.
The boogieman never died did he, because we still see him there.
He comes to the little girl in the form of a fanged beast.
There is no happy ending for her when she wakes to find her soul was stolen.
He comes to the teenager, who never agrees, who is scary to everyone.
But not enough to scare him away, not even the spiky jewelry and black makeup.
He goes into her mind and makes her hear all the things they say about her.
He bears the thoughts that would her, kill her. The demons living within.
And he's still seen by the adult, who say he doesn't exist.
He's the back alley you walk because you are not afraid of monsters.
Where you are shoved into the dirt and feel his hands make everything molested.
Left unconcious in the black path of his world and you can't cry for help.
The boogieman invades everyone, he makes the world his marionette.
Becomes the evil policeman who doesn't believe a word the victim says.
Or the children who poke fun and the people who are different from themselves.
It is not until after they realize that the boogieman still exists.
And he cannot die. Will never die.
You cannot kill the boogieman. He resides everywhere.
He can posses anyone at any given point in time, just to suit his own pleasure.
And he can live anywhere, including inside of you.
Everyday, same time, same place.
I take off another face.
And it fades away without a trace.
I never let the other masks go to waste.
In a dark room at the end of the hall,
are shelves of masks lining the walls.
I could wear nasty or try the perfect doll.
If you can wear one you can wear them all.
The expression of guilt from one who’s always lying.
The face of a person who never stops crying.
The defiant characteristics of one who’s not buying.
Or a favorite of mine, contorted by dying.
There are so many to choose from in here.
And behind each one there is always the fear.
But whenever I need one, one’s always near.
And no one sees through it, but it’s crystal clear.
These are all of the things that I can create.
All of it based on a false set of traits.
And though all of you will always follow the bait.
The only thing I really feel is hate.
So many creations to compare and contrast.
And everyday it becomes more of a task.
I know the question you’re all afraid to ask.
What does my real face look like if you take away the masks?
