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Necro's ((somewhat shitty)) poetry

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Necro's ((somewhat shitty)) poetry Empty Necro's ((somewhat shitty)) poetry

Post by Derpy Wed Apr 29, 2015 3:28 pm

I had no idea where to put this other than here. I know it doesn't technically qualify as "art" in the traditional sense but I figured this was the best place for it.

Welcome to Derpy's collection of sappy-ass poetry! Where it's all ridiculously pity-me sounding!
I will attempt to color-code them by what kind they are so for now the list is:
Red means it has no real place to go.
Green calls for haikus, which are set in a 5/7/5 meter. They also may not be named for a while.
Grey, or at least as grey as this is, is something I have yet to assign. Many things may lay here.

Body of a Man, Mind of a Beast:

Body of a man, mind of a beast.
A living being that needs to be ceased.
Love,
death,
immortality.
All things you seek,
But to wield them, you're far too weak.
A cacophony of sorrow,
Anguish at what may lay on the morrow.
A perfectly composed symphony of rage,
An orchestra you just wish would fade.
Thoughts so disorganized,
not sure what lay before your eyes,
whether it's a friend that's oh so sweet,
or an injury to pain you for weeks.

Guardian Angel:

Over your shoulders,
Always hanging.
Bloody and bruised,
But never fading.
Corpselike,
But still alive.
Gashes coating me,
Yet I continue to breathe.
The whispers that surround you,
Are me saying "I love you."
Limbs crippled and broken,
Yet I've only awoken.

I am your guardian angel.

Teenagers:

A desolate landscape of fear, loneliness, jubilation and euphoria, all wrapped into one.

We live life on a day-to-day basis, not looking ahead to the future.
The uphills are mountains, the downhills are an abyss.

We juggle depression, loneliness, schoolwork, sleep, social lives, and at times, medication, psychosis, and suicide.
We're mocked for our every fuckup, but get nothing for anything we do correctly,
Hated by all, but loved by all, we exist in an oxymoronical paradox state,
And we realize this, but can't stop it.

Constantly being beaten with who we are,
When we try to find it out ourselves.
Given both too much and too little,
We just want clarity in our short lives, to feel loved, accepted,
And we're told that we will be,
But we never are,
Ruined by the ones who lied to us,
Told us we're all special, unique, and wanted.

So many ideas, so many thoughts, juggling through our heads,
Beaten down by those above us, forced into their state of thinking.
That's not making us unique,
That's turning all into mindless, glass-eyed automotons,
Drones,
to do what you want.
But we can't fight, not without repurcussion,
Because we can't be who we are,
What we want,
Despite having been told that we can.


?:

When the darkness calls,/beckons you towards its form,/say, "Goodbye, myself."

??:

Will you hold my hand,/in this world of misery,/ and let it all go?


The Lonely Moon:

I sit in the sky, all night long.
I don't need friends, I have the stars.
Over you, at night, I loom.
For I am the Lonely Moon.
Guiding you in the lowly gloom,
I am the lonely moon.

The Final Relapse:

Another kick in the head
another day in bed
Feeling sick within
when will it all end

Can't think, can't sleep
Feeling utterly weak
Whispers surround me
cover everything, like a blanket of fear
Seeing black
don't know what I lack

Everything around is crashing around me
I stop and think, am I my own enemy?
Another day of thought,
another night of silence
Another day of smiles,
another day of pain

The fear goes into me
pierces me like a needle
Staring at my hands
Wishing that it would just end

I can't see,
what the fuck is wrong with me?
All I can see is silver and red,
pull it back,
and with a bang,
go to bed.

Hearts:

Can you break a heart?
You can break a heart, shatter it, scatter it like a work of art.
You can rip it up, shred it to pieces, pound it into dust,
but is this really just?
Can hearts speak?
Hearts, don't speak, but they feel, can make us weak.
We transmit these feelings into thoughts,
and things we ought naught.
Hearts can be tortured.
Can be stolen.
Injured.
Torn.

But why do we live day after wretched day just to know that we're going to be sad again?
We keep going on, living, despite all the pain.
We're used to carrying on,
to never feel like we've won.
We fumble with the slightest things, feeling queasy,
because the world's just not easy.
If it was, then we'd all be soaring,
and the crowd below would be roaring.

Somewhere deep inside, we know that' we're beautiful, but we don't see it.
Because people drive you down to push themselves up, bit by bit.
Because the dead don't rise,
so open up your eyes.
This world doesn't have much to offer,
so try to do more than your forefathers.
Because life is hard,
no matter what you're called, be it "Fag" or "Spaz" or "Tub of lard."

You've just had one of those days,
feeling like nothing but an old bloodstain.
Feeling nothing but old pains,
and you don't want to even breathe again.
Think the world'd be better without you,
but honey,
there ain't no you better than you.

We've all been treated like shit,
in a game of "Point out the Loser", we've all been It.
So put down that gun,
step down from the ledge,
untie the noose,
and for a moment, just hang loose.

All we've ever been is imperfectly perfect beings,
beings of pain and love and hate and sorrow,
nothing we'll ever need to borrow.
So just keep walking that tightrope,
Look at the bads and just say "Nope."

You're a beautiful soul,
and it isn't as black as coal.
So pick yourself off the floor,
get up, walk out that door,
and live your life,
and don't let anybody give you strife.
We lost ourselves in the beating of our hearts,
and forgot that we all were works of art.


Last edited by Necro on Sun May 08, 2016 10:15 pm; edited 1 time in total
Derpy
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Post by Derpy Sun Aug 02, 2015 7:07 am

And this is just some random bullshit I wrote whilst hallucinating due to seperation issues, lack of sleep, and hella anxiety. Will be seperated due to both length and the sheer 3edgy5me factor. Apparently I named it Waste? I don't fuckin' know, man, I name these things the weirdest shit.

The world's a stormy sea, drop your anchor, don't be a faker, nor a shaker. Down comes the rain, pitter patter, acid coating everything, eating through, through the mind, open heart, open soul, open skull, wounds laid out for all to see, scars on display, heart nailed to a wall and coated in barbed wire, and I'm not a liar, peel back the flesh and expose the secrets, every little thing you wanted to keep, of everything you've weeped, for, inside war, mind is torn, brain is worn, soul forlorn, forsaken, the don't let your true self awaken, don't be shaken, or out of you it'll make bacon, don't even try faking, just endure every little scratch and scrape and gash and shotgun blast, for you've just got to last, no matter how little you maintain of your sanity, head a calamity, we'll call you Jane, there's no one else to blame, what a shame, how lame, self-maim, the bane, of your existence, no resistance, malevolent, oh, there it's went, your heart, like it's riding a go-cart, riding off on a meteor, scorched as if it's in a heater, scorched, scorched, torched, set ablaze, inferno, flares for help, well, nobody wants to help you you little whelp, you hide in your shell so we keep you shelved, too far in your own mind you have delved, yourself you've tried to weld, but instead it melts, blisters, and welts, no chance it could be considered felt, velvet, down, rough, fake tough, every shove, handcuffs, look up, up to the sky, ask yourself why, why did this happen, your mind's so misshapen, the beast awakens, don't be shaken, keep yourself steady, don't get heady, cocky, lock and load, like you've got a lot to show, take a bow, say wow, what do you know now, so low, low down and sad, ever so bad, all the fun you've had, is just a fad, but don't be mad.
Derpy
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Post by Derpy Fri Oct 16, 2015 12:46 am

The world is against me, otherwise it wouldn't be fair, thoughts unclear, words unknown, future foggy, waffles soggy.

Lost in a sea of people, trying to find that steeple, but I've just got to keep on keeping on. Gotta rise to my best, gotta be a king, not a pawn, even if I'm hellspawn.

I want to scream, scream, scream out to the skies that I'm worth something, but all I hear is nothing, nothing and everything.

I can hear every tick of the clock, marking each miserable minute, each weeping week, each mad month, happy hour. I can only see in black and white, but I can still see the color of the crying flower, blue on red, soon to be dead.

Broken, but still hopin', that I can be something, something of use, tired of feeling a fluke, a failure, a regret, so you'd better bet, that I'll be knocking in the head of fate, snap the strings of destiny, the world of me flipped upside-down.

I'm stronger than it may seem, even when I'm torn apart at the seams, those stitches are steel beams, it's gonna take a lot for me to get creamed.

The world is against me, otherwise it wouldn't be fair.
Derpy
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Post by Derpy Tue Mar 08, 2016 7:54 pm

Now probably the first thing i've written in months!

One, two, hut-to, step in line, but that line's not fine.
Blurrier than drunk sight, sight which is running out of light, getting darker than night.
Put your thoughts in me, don't need my own idea, just need to follow the group, just keep us all penned in the chicken coop.
Never thought to think for yourself, always leaving your own thoughts on a high shelf, deaf to yourself, blind to what's wrong.
What's wrong, oh, everything, but you're in denial, that nothing will ever be right, that everything will always be a huge dilemma, but you're just skim-a-ing the pages, not reading between the lines, but if you did, there would be shivers down your spine, for those secrets you must mine, and not forget to be kind, for if you do all of these, you'll truly shine.
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Post by Derpy Sat Mar 26, 2016 10:49 pm

And now, here's one entire poem I wrote that makes no sense together but can easily be split into three!

There's no more room in hell,
So the demons flow out to here.
You'd think there'd be room when they fell,
But now they should be your greatest fear.
Words will escape you,
As their spears go through your body,
A nightmare all too true,
Not cobbled together like a kindergartner's, shoddy.
Don't waste your breath,
Try to find something left,
From the debris left behind,
Make something that you will be proud of on death.
The world is nothing but remnants of its former self,
An empty, hollow husk,
Laid haphazardly on a crooked shelf,
But ride that lifeline 'til the brink of dusk.
|
Angels will fall,
Far above it all,
To this wasteland of desolation,
Come down with all the provocation.
No longer will we let it happen,
Even when the the ground beneath of blackens.
It seems that all is lost,
And chaos reigns,
But chaos will be shot
Directly in its brain.
|
You think of soldiers in camouflage and carrying a rifle,
But there are also those whose own feelings they stifle.
They reach out to make others feel swell,
Ruin themselves, and just say "Oh well."
It's diabolic,
The way we keep to ourselves,
Never reaching out, in fear of being a heretic.
Derpy
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Leo Posts : 516
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Post by graphiteGunaydin Tue Mar 29, 2016 7:23 am

damn this is edgy
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Post by Derpy Tue Mar 29, 2016 3:32 pm

Indeed.
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Post by Derpy Sun May 08, 2016 10:02 pm

Oil:

There's oil in my veins,
One spark and I go up in flames.
Seemingly joyous,
but inside, that joy is porous,
filled with rage and hate,
but it's covered up with paint.
I can feel the beast pulsate in my chest,
brimming with fury but leaving out the rest.
Inside me, it has slept,
and all the while, I have wept.
I understand it so well,
and if it truly is me, then, Hell.
But when it awakes,
I know my mind will be raped,
by incessant voices droning,
and at the same time, cloning.
So let me smile like lie through my fucking teeth,
while I barely even want to breathe.
Silence is what I need and detest,
To fix myself, to put myself to the test.
Demons around me make me feel evil,
And because of it I'm not sure what to feel.
It's truly a tragedy,
The being that is me.
Derpy
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Leo Posts : 516
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