honesty

The Essence of My Thoughts

I don’t know you!

I don’t want to know you!

But I have to if I need to know why you loathe strangers like no tomorrow.

I’m a curious boy so I can’t stop poking my nose into the mess you made.

 

There’s a girl who lives in the British Isles.

She doesn’t know you!

You don’t want to know her!

Yet, you cut her open and call the cops on her so they can cure her wounds.

 

That is no accident. You fractured her soul on purpose and pretend it’s her fault.

Where is your humanity? Are you even human at all?

Who are you to call yourself an advocate for world peace?

So I say fuck your agenda. Your stupidity can't trick me into turning against the girl.

 

Just because the fire you started ain’t my business doesn’t mean I can’t chime in.

When a maiden as kind and sweet as she is in danger, it is everyone’s business.

Why do you claim to be in favor of equal rights when you have blood on your hands?

A good activist must always be a good pacifist. Never are their words used to perpetrate murder.

 

Who’s going to stand by you when the gravity of your actions come crashing down on you?

Who’s going to shelter you when the people you speak up for want nothing to do with you?

Who’s going to survive when your puppet shows concludes?

When you drop the mic that’s rigged with a bomb that blew up the city?

 

Look what you’ve done!! Look what you’ve done!! Look what you’ve done!!

You didn’t wake up to smell the roses that were painted by the blood spilt from your casualties.

The lone survivor is the girl who came close to death and there you are, continuing to break her.

You’d rather be comforted by your ego than brace yourself for the consequences of your miscalculation.

 

You don’t know the people you’re hurting as well as you think you do.

I pray now that the girl who survived the bombing buys an enchanted shield to keep you away from her.

My hypothesis is that nobody important in your life taught you that karma is a vindictive boomerang.

I’m not known for being a social butterfly, but I know an incredibly deadly viper when I see one.

Arete

Hope is a candle in a sea of darkness, eagerly awaiting the sun. 

Trust is a drop of the purest water, in an ocean full of desert sand.

Loyalty is the assurance of your own two feet, that you will stand.

Love is a bubbling geyser; filling, and rushing to overflowing. 

Empathy is a mother's love, from someone that you don't know.

Peace is an ocean of glass-like water, that ripples of war cannot move.

Honesty is a pure wine, with no dregs to ruin the taste.

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Reason

Folder: 
Band Lyrics

Verse 1:

No matter how far we are,

I’ll become your memory.

I’ll become your everything

‘Cause I cannot give up

On this love that we share.

You are my reason to live.

 

Chorus:

‘Cause a life worth living

Is a life worth sharing.

Tell me why you’re constantly playing games:
You’re hot and you’re cold.

But, still, I like you.

I cannot deny these feelings.

‘Cause you’re my reason.

 

Verse 2:

‘Cause a light came on

Whenever I hear our song.

Like lovers of the same heart:
We understood each other better.

Awkward silences are our thing.

But, with you, is something

I cannot be without.

 

Bridge:

Whenever we’re together,

I can feel our love

Dangling in the air.

Can you feel it too?

Can you hear my heart?

‘Cause you’re the reason

That it beats for.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Finding reasons to love your significant other?

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Qualities

If I talk about my 6 qualities,

they're not really much of an ability.

 

One of them might be that I obsess over everything,

but that's only because I am very settling.

Second could be that I am good at math and science,

but never could I ever seem to hold an appliance.

Now third comes next, the fact that I cheer people up,

and now that I think of it, it's probably because I'm such a crackup.

 

Those were my best traits,

including that I am very good with dates;

Yes, the one on the calendar,

I don't need to say the worse ones any louder.

 

My next 3 include me being annoying, 

because everything I do or touch, I seem to be destroying.

I also want to stop being so insecure,

or that I'm mean to my brother because I want a sister.

I always hate it when my family make fun of me,

so I always seem to be crying, unfree.

 

Those are all my traits from myself,

the lesson to be learning is to just be yourself!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this poem back in 6th grade so I decided to post it here haha :)

Value of Honesty

Value of honesty,


Is like gold truly,


Ever timeless it does remain,


Never succumbs to any pain.


 

The honest ones are like the stars,


Who keep on working to remove the curse,


Of corruption, injustice and inequality,


From the surface of the earth for eternity.


 

Alas! The honest ones are few in number,


Yet vigorous they are to make the world a place, better.

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tags:

Honest Abe

They say the depressed are less likely to lie

I lie on my back each night

Naked

In fear that my day will never come

But my day will come. 

These are not one in the same. 

I can only hope that one day will come before the other

Tomorrow is yesterday

So all days are forever.  

I am Honest Abe 

And I am able to admit

That I'm not happy.

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Honest Exploration

Honesty sits like the carriage

swinging gently side to side,

hanging beneath a hot air balloon.

Only this balloon is alive,

and pumping with hot blood.

An honest person at the controls

will skip sleep to pull that cord

all the night through to get his

carriage over the steep mountains.

At the same time, an honest person

would admit they had met their limit,

and find a quiet beach to land upon.

For a good while each resting place

is temporary, because who knows

what’s over the next hill?

Perhaps one day you will find your

perfect place to rest and settle.

Until then, keep an honest heart

to carry you, and perhaps a passenger

or two, gently over the Everest

that may prove to be the last.

Until finally, you crest over and down

into the bountiful warm windward 

side of the towering sleeping giants.

But maybe you’re an explorer

and you’ll just keep going,

and that’s not a bad idea at all.

 

 

 

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my distillery-a poem about my BP journey

I was a distillery once

Extracting aesthetics and experiences

Some who tasted thought the distillates were sweet

So distinct

And some thought it was too inflammable


But for me it grew toxic

And I abandoned my spirits for another place

Where am I now

What do I do

I am no longer a distillery

The grounds were sold to a different owner

And he tore down my distillery

Pays me in cartridges every month

Besides those I am on a raw diet

I love the wholesome taste of fibrous thoughts

They take their time to pass through

And leach out some of my heat

Someday I will find an engine to plug in to

That produces for people besides me

Till then I must decide

 

How will I remember my distillery

Author's Notes/Comments: 

the person I mentioned in this poem is not one in particular-I have no hard feelings about being 'bought out.' this poem is to help me move on, and I hope it can help someone else in the ongoing struggle with BP disorder

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Honesty

Folder: 
Dichotomy

I've Lied to you.

Scold me

As I make amends.

I tried to tell you.

She never loved you

You could not accept my honesty

So I lied to you.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

People don't accept the truth. No matter how many times you try to tell them. So eventualy you give up.  And they get mad about it.

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