Tag: Poetry

The Battle Ground

The Battle Ground

A braindead zombie, rotting skin dripping to the floor. High pitch screeching, deafening enough to get through the void.

Screech, screech, screech, they wail for eternity.

The other side stand the logical beasts, a pack of angry but annoyed wolves. Living proof that there is a light, yet outweighed by the zombie horde covering the brightness.

In the middle, lay the wounded, the tired, and disillusioned. Blood and guts lay on the ground, tortured yet still kept alive.

I be there, in the middle, the tired, lonely, and dead. Kept alive by the YouTube machine, the videos from the beasts with their logic and facts.

On the downside, they only work for so long. Will they be able to keep the fighting spirit alive.

I don’t know, I don’t know?

Watching the world burn

Watching the world burn

Watching the world burn, watching the world turn faster and faster.

The world turning to the tune of loud screeching cries, secrets, lies, and darkness in the shadows.

Burn, Turn, Burn, Turn.

Screech, screech cry, cry, find another person to persecute and die.

Propaganda, lies, Tv screens infested with people who want to watch you die.

Facebook, Twitter, a place for people that screech louder, bearing their teeth, at the people they accuse this week.

Misogynist, Alt Right, Sexist, Racist, Homophobe, Islamophobia, how many words they use to quiet you into a zombie like them in a coma.

Screech, screech, screech, the sounds of the children come, adults with the mental age of a child come.

Accuse of rape, accuse of everything, buzzwords, buzzwords, virtue signalling, cry , cry, cry.

Patriarchy, rape, kill all men, you are a racist for, and misogynist and a man.

Twitter, Facebook, social Media, the world quieted by the force of thought police, and censorship.

Don’t say that, blocked, shadow banned, keep in the dark.

We can’t have these dangerous words, shown, it might trigger someone.

Trigger, Trigger, Trigger,  Trigger, everyday, morning, noon, and night.

Watching the world burn, watching the world turn faster and faster.

The world turning to the tune of loud screeching cries, secrets, lies, and darkness in the shadows.

Burn, Turn, Burn, Turn.

I would rather die, than live in a world, where I cannot be myself, and learn.

1984 is coming so soon, I know I would rather be stabbed, than live in a world that doesn’t want me as part.

Easy it seems, to say such a thing.

But look all around you, and you will see what I mean.

This is why I hate 3rd Wave feminism and social justice Warriors.

Reality of today poem

Sitting in the corner, naked and alone.

Rocking back and forth like a rocking chair, under a blanket.

Hiding all the bruises physical and mental, eyes bright red from crying.

No heating is on, and light to see.

Brittle body from nothing to eat.

Money be the one thing she cannot get, the way to get she is told is by getting a job.

Nothing is out there to help her live, where are the jobs the government promised even insistent on having.

Trapped in a lonely situation, a situation that even she thought would be in the past.

Things are made worse by her vulnerable situation, she has an invisible disability.

One in the mind that the mister that lurks says he can cure with work, one that they don’t understand is preventing her from work.

The say she’s a scrounger, but what can she scrounge when she has nothing at all.

The only thing that is keeping her spirit, is the knowledge that she will die and be out of this.

She hasn’t got long, she can tell her body is failing.

One day she will fall asleep, and will not wake up.

Warmth rises in her chest at the thought, as she relaxes herself against the wall to sleep.

Her mind, the voices within, hoping and hoping this will be her last day.

A small smile begins to appear, as her eyes slowly close and she thinks of those near and dear…