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My religion My religion
It's not yours to decide
I have my reasons for choosing it.
Is my friend.
It helps me in times of sadness,
It pushes me in times of adversity,
It pushes me to put faith and assures me everything will be alright.
My religion is the one thing no one will ever take away from me.
And that is what comforts me the most.
My faith My faith should not be a deterrent.
My faith should not drive you away.
My faith should let you come
And experience what I say.
There is so much acceptance of things nowadays.
So many different things,
It gets ScArY.
How my faith seems to be the odd one
How my faith is not part of this acceptance.
Why isn't it?
We spread love throughout the land,
We've had hand in the morals of humans throughout the ages.
We've given so much,
Some of us gave all we have.
So where is our tolerance?
Do we not deserve acceptance?
Why should you get it?
Why shouldn't we share it too?
To those of my faith,
Whatever happened to
"Love thy neighbor?"
"Pray for our enemy?"
"Love, and tolerance?"
Whatever happened to those?
Do not hate those who aren't like us.
Do not hate them at all.
ColorsThe red of a rose,
The blue of the sky,
The green of the grass,
The yellow of a daffodil.
The gray of concrete,
The tan of wood,
The black of tires,
The white of paper.
I'm surrounded by colors,
Of different hues and shades,
I know why we have colors,
Cause the world's much prettier that way.
HumanChained by heartbreak,
Puzzled by looks,
Misguided by power,
Stabbed by sadness.
Buried under work,
Fooled by the temporary,
Morphed by anger,
Shunned for differences.
Trapped by grief,
Stung by results,
Blinded by fury,
Weakened by words.
Everyone has flaws,
But flaws make us
My tongue is not sharpMy tongue is not a sword.
My tongue is not a knife.
My tongue is not sharp.
But it does cause a lot of strife.
My tongue is filled with black ink.
Waiting to spill all over the place.
In thick globs,
And your mind.
My tongue is my pride, I take care of it well.
Exercising it every day,
All over the thoughts and minds of others.
That's where it drips.
I choose the way it flows out.
Whether its poison, whether its helpful.
Whether or not it's meant to hurt, or meant to decieve.
Whether or not it's meant to help, or meant to critique.
My tongue oozes out black ink, it flows all over your creations.
When I speak of a drawing of yours, the ink flows out.
Whenever I critique, I make it gush.
So that way,
You will see what needs to be fixed.
And I hope you will fix it with the help of my ink.
My tongue can also poison you.
It's very easy to do.
When it's poison, it flows out,
Girl from the skyI remember seeing a girl fall from the sky,
I remember hearing lots of loud, panicked cries.
I remember seeing bright flashing lights,
I remember the colors, they were red and white.
I remember seeing a red puddle by her head,
I remember that image filling me with dread.
I wander if she was thinking,
I wonder why she was crying.
I wonder if she wanted to fly,
I wonder why she fell from the sky.
We'll never know why she fell,
Only she knew that too well.
But I know why she's smiling.
Cause now that girl is finally flying.
Black AngelShe is everywhere,
From graves to hospitals,
She is everywhere.
She spreads her wings over the sick,
And carries them away,
To a place only known by the dead.
She has no emotion, she shows no pity,
She does her job swift and quick,
She has no feelings, she has no heart.
She's the cause of mourning and grief,
She's the cause of pain and suffering,
She is the cause of disease and famine.
One day we're all gonna see her,
One day we'll all know what she looks like,
Cause one day we're all gonna see that black angel.
Girls are not meant to Girls are not meant to be your toys.
We aren't eye candy for the boys.
We are just us. Just simple, beautiful fabulous us.
So why are you forcing us to become something other than the original?
Do you want us to all be the same?
Girls are not meant to be quiet.
We are meant to be loud.
Stand up for what we believe in.
Girls are not meant to sit properly.
To go to balls.
To dance with men in tight dresses.
We are meant to jump around in loose shirts.
Like no ones watching.
And dance like no ones caring.
Girls are not meant to cook all your meals.
Not meant to be caretakers.
We are meant to be scientists, engineers, and other things too.
Not your eye candy, or cooks, or any other "feminine" fad guys come up with.
We are meant to be who we want to be.
Red Thread of Fame Have you ever wanted to bond
The emotions of others?
Have you ever wanted to see what they do?
What they say?
And how they view you?
Have you ever been so desperate for the fame,
That you'll manipulate the emotions of others
To get what you want?
Fame is a red string.
It is soaked with blood.
Not with our blood.
But the blood of dreams,
Being shot at the stake.
All for the sake
Of living in the limelight.
Ocean SkiesI watch ocean skies
drown each sailing bird.
Swimming clouds kiss
the stretched blueness.
The wind flies lost;
her soft breath flows
as live shadows sway
to the beat of the earth.
The patterns of energy
lavishly flood my eyes.
flawed in her beauty.
I give upSometimes
I try so hard to change for people
Do what they want,
Listen to their critiques,
Try to be a good friend..
But you know?
Everyone makes mistakes,
is not perfect,
is tired and stressed and slips,
It is never good enough,
no matter what I do,
nobody ever sees what I changed,
everybody always only sees my faults.
I get criticised for what I did wrong,
but never acknowledged for what I changed,
I give up.
I don't have the energy anymore,
to always justify myself,
to always go up and be the one,
that is bad,
to always be the one,
Sometimes I think I'm better off without anyone...
Shedding SkinSomeday I'll be cured,
I'll shed my skin
Someday I'll be found,
I'll stop being lost
Someday I'll be free,
Show off my arms
Someday I'll be known,
For my troubling fight
Today I'm in pain,
The wish to harm
Someday I'll be cured,
I'll shed my skin
You've been with me.You've carried me in your arms.
You've protected me from harm.
The journey has been long.
Not much further shall it prolong.
I'm in the home stretch.
I'm close to finishing this race.
I've been through the darkness.
Overcame the obstacles I had to face.
You heard me when my voice felt unheard.
You listened to me rejoice and complain, ever single word.
I feel a sense of closure.
I've been trying to keep my composure.
Praise be to you my Lord!
I'll dance in the joy of hope.
Bring on the thunderstorm.
I want to see what else I can cope.
Life has its up and downs.
It gives you smiles and frowns.
I know you will always be near.
In Jesus, whom shall I fear?
That final word
The one I love
Those words together,
Don't leave me here.
I can't concentrate
Are you alive?!
Did you succeed?
Begin to fall,
How could you do this?
How could you leave me alone?
I lift my head
Wipe my mouth
You can't have succeeded
FutureI sit here waiting for you to see
That it's with you I'm meant to be
If we can survive, we'll have a family
Husband, son, cat...
I have nothing to writeI have nothing to write,
nothing to share.
I am lost for inspiration,
and I don't even care.
So what if I don't write?
It's not like it's good.
So what if I don't draw?
It's not like I ever could.
I don't need to create.
It's all pointless in the end.
I thought I loved my pen and brush,
but they're just false friends.
I'm not fine, please help me
Enough about me
I'm hiding something
I'm just saying that.
I need you
I'm about to attempt suicide
I'm just tired
I can't take this anymore
I already ate
I can't eat. I want to starve
Don't leave. Care enough to stay.
I love you
You're the one person I trust
I don't love you any more
I do, I just don't want to hurt you.
I've cut, I don't want you to see the scars
I'm better, I promise
I'm the worst I've been, I lied
I want to die
Just one more
I'm not going to stop.
Me I am not strong,
I am not talented.
I am not special,
I am not beautiful.
I am me.
The girl who writes poems.
The girl whose tongue is filled with ink,
Ink which stains the heart and brings forth the flaws,
For the others to fix.
I am the girl who can't draw to save her life,
I am the girl who spins words like thread.
I am me.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More