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No Master of this Mind
In and out of control, always, never, of you, of me
And this is not the end, downhill, downhill from now on
You're not sayin' anything that makes sense
No words, no conversation, no imagination anymore, anymore
Unsaved, unsure, unafraid but so, so afraid of everything
Tomorrow will be the same as yesterday, the same as ever
The same as five minutes from now and we haven't changed
Still in and out of control, someone else pushing my buttons
Someone else is the Master of my Mind.
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7 Deadly Sins Poetry Series @ [ profile] wayward_visions

Pride | Envy | Gluttony | Lust | Anger | Greed | Sloth
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I sat on my porch to draw the night, the stars and clouds that wander gently across the moon, it's bluish-yellow glow tinting their whitened edges. My pencil danced across the page, lingering where the world was darkest and empty. Smoke rose from my cigarette and I wasn't quite sure what I had drawn just then. My eyes had no light to see by, no knowledge of the path my pencil had taken. The night had simply drawn itself (whatever it thought of it itself).
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Your result for The Can You Kill a Man? Test...

Maybe you could...

You scored 18% Cold and 64% Level-Headed!

In a pinch, you could do it, but you'd need a damn good reason to. And you're not going to be too happy afterward.

Take The Can You Kill a Man? Test at OkCupid

Random words... )

Even the colors on my paintbrush seem dull these days.
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Hey guys. Sorry for all the poetry. I'm in one of my moods - where you just gotta speak and write and dream on paper for a bit to feel better. 

BTW: I'm on LULU if anyone anyone wants to rate my writing. XD

You're Shallow, Man

You’re shallow, man
I mean it, you’re right up there with the lily pads
All green and pink in the face
Those words you speak; they don’t mean much
Cuttin’ corners and standing in the shade
Reading those books in the front, not the back
The ones with the covers lost from bein’ read too much
The good ones with their dog ears and coffee stains
They’re the ones you should’ve read
Mister Top of the Charts pointed and you followed
Front page, billboard, up and coming but soon forgotten
You’ll never sink down here if you float up there
Up with the seaweed of the culture, moving where the currents go
Ending up on some black beach with sunburnt folks and their bestsellers
Sink with the weight of epiphany; the knowledge that you found from that golden rule
The rule of waking up late ‘cause you had to read slower due to the faded pages
(Someone must have loved that book before you, really loved it, ached over it)
Of walking home with dust on your nose
Of making art instead of others telling you about it
I mean it, man
You gotta sink a bit to have lived your own life



X-posted to [ profile] poems

Custom Text

I was following the pack
all swallowed in their coats
With scarves of red tied 'round their throats
To keep their little heads
from falling in the snow
and I turn 'round and there you go
And Michael you would fall
And turn the white snow
red as strawberries in the summertime

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