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Michael Amery Jun 2014
Pathetic

The worm pinned beneath the claw of the morning bird,
Doomed,
No brain to realize it's peril,
Just automatic twitching
Back and forth like an equally wretched dog's tail.

The drunk homeless vagabond,
Too filthy for mere soap,
**** fights for supremacy of stench, With feces, blood and *****.
A human stain on society.
Nobody's father,
No one's son.

****.
Pull your skirt a little higher,
Her husband may not have noticed you yet,
Buy that man another round.
Where are your morals?
Lost with your self worth?
And you too stupid to comprehend that your emptiness cannot be filled by the ***** that you swallow.
Wake up wrinkled and alone,
No yoga pose is going to save you from yourself.

Me,
In your eyes when I show weakness,
Cry over veiled insult,
Admit defeat in the face of misery,
Depression.
Well I'll give you that,
What is depression anyway but a weak man's excuse to fail?

Pathetic.
  Jun 2014 Michael Amery
PrttyBrd
Your jagged thoughts in crooked patterns remind me of....*

myself
10w
Michael Amery Jun 2014
Sometimes when I'm down,
Defeated,
Or weak,

All I need is a kind word from you,
As you to listen to my song,
Or read my poems,
Followed by a smile,

Then I will know that everything will be alright,
I will pick myself back up
And become again the strong man that you demand,
Whom you love.

That is all that I needed
Michael Amery Jun 2014
Like bees to honey is how you draw me to you,

I become lost as you capture me in your hungry gaze even as I find myself within the universal depths of your bejewelled eyes,

And other cliche nonsensical phrases.

I love you.
Actual message to the love of my life, the woman I will marry faithfully.
truths triage could not spare him as he was
trying to look angelic on a boatload of sinners
hes chained to his uttered story despite its flaws
he wrote it with the ink of despairs wisdom
despite knowing despair will lie to you as often as its dark brother fear
he carved his fate in the slippery wet stone of his pasts deeds
and theres no escaping the truth in that mirrors face
three am in a ***** motel room
the greasy light reveals the man within
unleashes the beast
and mourns all that could have been

(((thirty six dutch girls holding hands
walk in the shadows....
thirty six dutch girls
smooth to the makeup perfection on arrival
laughing and giving peck on the cheek hello's
the crowd into the booths at the back
a noisy forest of chatter and purses clutter
thirty six slender dutch girls
powdered and perfumed
come to build a romance of the mind
every single one of them dreams vividly of
real love and wanting something better than this emptiness
this is no way to live)))

bent tens ways to sunday but never really broken
he keeps on keeping on pounding flesh to footpath
hoping to escape reason with muttered excuses
hoping to beat the dawn keep the night alive for
just one more whimsical delight
he writes his fate indelible while lying to no-one
that its just a phase he's going through
****** his chained hands at the obscured waters
but once you start down the trail of tears
only the truth will set your sight free
four am in the motel parking lot
and the birds herald a coming dawn
this is no way to live
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