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eileen mcgreevy May 2010
I saw what you did,
You *******,
You barely got away,
Over a stupid glitch,
The mistake wont repeat itself,
I can assure you of that,
You can hide away nightly,
In your pervy little flat.
All those little ones you took,
And disposed of their souls,
Ripped at their dreams,
**** all over their goals,
But you didnt figure me,
You pathetic slime ball,
I will haunt your dreams,
I will watch you crawl,
Wherever you are going,
Ill be there first,
To dampen your ugly addiction,
And to dry up your ***** thirst,
I will make you suffer,
For every one you hurt,
Your redemption is too late now,
You paedo piece of dirt!!!
(c) [email protected] 25/5/10
if you could make her think
you'd be ****** her mind
a glance in her direction
marks you out as one of "those" kind
romantic suggestion
will be remembered as a hate crime
the only dating you'll be doing later
is with your name on the dotted line
in the *** offenders register
Emma Johnson Feb 2010
Like a ghostly memory rehaunting my mind,
Now I am older I see what you did and all your lies,
Nasty, twisted, bitter anger, smell of life,
Hate how you trigger and disfigure me after all this time.

Memories return, stuff I thought was gone forever,
Trying to deal with all this ****, then you anonymous texter.
Hit me when I’m down, only just started to feel better,
Now I can’t sleep again, or dream, back to a bed wetter.

Sleep with a knife by my side, claw hammer and bat,
Because if I saw you intruding again, you’ll get smacked,
See through confusion to see your wrong, protect your back.
What you did was wrong, against the law, that’s a fact.

Why did I enter your head, you contact a ***** past,
Now I’m an adult, you decide you want to play a part,
Twist me even more, you lonely, excuse of your heart,
You and others are hindering my path.

Sick, do you even realise what you did?
Some maybe, but you fit in the category of the sick,
Child abusing, nonse, paedo, take your pick,
Don’t make the excuse that you were just drunk or a bit thick

© Emma Johnson
© Emma Johnson 2009
Thomas Newlove Jul 2015
Because you said you're poetry inclined,
And because I have something on my mind,
(Along with the fact I have a long walk home),
I thought it fitting I would write this poem -

To express, permitting it doesn't sound too weird,
(Despite the fact I have a paedo beard),
My joy on bumping into you this night -
A darkish day upon which you made bright.

For, although you joke that bi-annual contact best
To being friends, I do have to suggest
That since I've been back home it's helped a deal
To talk to friends over drinks or a meal

About the seemingly insignificant things.
Nobody appreciates the joy this brings!
To a fool like me, who quite frankly is saved
By hearing how friends have acted or behaved,

Like success in college or thoughts that you are fat
(A ridiculous suggestion - I'll vanquish thoughts of that!)
Because collectively I don't exaggerate,
They have pulled me from Hell's (once soothing) gate...

So, I suppose, I'm trying to say thanks for being a friend
And because I don't see you enough
I feel like I can get away
With acting all gooey and stuff
And, quite frankly, a bit gay.
A poem I wrote for a friend of mine as a bit of a joke/challenge with a long walk home after a great catch-up
Big Virge Jul 2021
Now I’m A LYRICAL GUERRILLA... !!!
Who’s A VERY DEEP THINKER... !!!
  
So Am NOT Some *******...
Like That Paedo’ Gary Glitter... !!!
  
Or The Type Who Beds SISTERS... !?!
Because What Kind of Heart...
Would Tear Sisters APART...
To Fulfil Their ****** Needs... ?!?
  
Like Some Kind of HUNGRY MONKEY...
That LACKS... MORALITY... ?!?
  
Now By Sisters I Mean...
Those Who Are Part of The SAME FAMILY... !!!
  
Because Those Kind of Antics...
Are Those QUICKLY Redacted...
  
By Guerrillas Like ME... !!!
Because I’m NOT Like These FIENDS... !!!
Cos’ I’m A DIFFERENT Kind of Breed... !!!
To Those Who Choose To Feed...
  
Like Count Drac’ And His Team... !!!
of Bloodsuckers Who Seem...
To Be The Type Who Lead...
... And Run Societies... !!!
  
So My GUERRILLA Tactics...
Feed LYRICAL LASHINGS...
That I Give Through Poetry... !!!
  
Because I’m LYRICALLY...
… MORE DANGEROUS... !!!
Than These Young Emcees...
Who Just Chat BREEZE...
To Earn Themselves Money... !!!
  
Who Show WAYWARDNESS...
And Degrees UNLIKE The THREE...
  
You See My Verse INDEED...
Is VERSATILE And DEADLY... !!!
  
So I’m More Like A KONG...
Whose Lyrically STRONG... !!!
  
So DO NOT Belong...
In A World of Shapeshifters... !!!
  
Where Those Enlisted...
Are Regularly... ******... !!!
It Seems By Shirt Lifters...
And Monetary Grifters...
Who Run From TRUE Guerrillas... !!!
  
Whose Form of Lyricism...
Is Simply Too HARD HITTING... !!!
  
Because Their Breed Is WEAK... !!!
So Employ DEVIOUS Ways  ...
To Keep Their Puppets CAGED...
As Well As Lyrically TAME...
As Long As They SEE FAME... !!!
  
But REAL Guerrillas...
... DON’T Walk That Way... !!!
  
They Walk In Ways Too STRAIGHT...
For The World... TODAY...
Where Groups Now DICTATE...
What Entertainers Say... !!!
  
Well REAL GUERRILLAS AREN’T Willing...
To Be TAMED And Placed...
In Places Where They Lay...
Like PROSTITUTING Dames... !!!
  
Because Our Lyrics DISPLAY...
Wordplay That SHAKES...
And DECIMATES These Fakes... !!!
  
And PUSSYHOLES...
Who Are CONTROLLED... !!!
  
Like Robots Being Made...
To Patrol And Act Like They...
Can Pretend To Be HUMANE... !?!
  
It’s CRAZY Now To SEE...
How WEAK Most People Be... !!!
  
While Protests Make Some Feel...
As If They’re Being REAL... !!!
  
When... Most of Them...
Are Part of THE PROBLEM... !!!
  
Because They’ve SHUNNED GUERRILLAS...
Until Their NON EXISTENT... !!!
  
Because This New Breed...
DOESN'T Seem To See...
That New Technology...
Can **** INDISCRIMINATELY...
And Face NO PENALTIES... !!!
  
Just Like TODAYS Police... !!!
  
Who Now DON’T Seem To Be...
So Willing To Police The Streets... !?!
  
Because of... The Disease...
That Corona CANNOT Beat... !!!
  
The DISEASE of FALLACIES...
And IGNORANCE That’s Reached...
  
LEVELS... Now BEYOND BELIEF... !!!
  
Which Is Why BIG VIRGE...
Is A Wordplay KILLER...
  
Who Can ONLY Be DEFINED...
  
As A.....
  
.... “ LYRICAL GUERRILLA “....
This, I have become.
Oh yeah I am not crazy
Oh yeah I am not crazy
Even if I used to do the bbq
At the footy as a volunteer
I didn’t care if I had money
Just wanted to bbq at the footy
You see I wanted to change myself
From being a problem person
To a mature adult
And I wanted everyone at the footy
To talk to me the way they spoke
To my mate Patrick
I wanted to be like Patrick
I Koke I should be myself
But I wanted to be like Patrick
He used to like to help people
But he was different because
He wanted money
I just wanted everyone to like me
Because I was such a fucken ****
As a kid
I fought my dad when he tried to help me
I argued with my brother
Even if he helped me too
So I volunteered everywhere
At the footy Aussie rules and soccer
And I worked at vinnies where every Christmas I was Santa Claus
Because I wanted to say sorry to the kids for being nasty
I gave them lollies and I gave them teddy bears
But I ain’t a paedo I just want to be normal
I volunteered at the masters games
And I met dawn fraser
I was in a beard not knowing
How to use a razor
I believe I was Santa in my previous life I had a home in Antarctica before
Athena sent the blizzard
I wanted to be liked by the adults
I wanted to be like Patrick and my dad
I wanted to joke around with workers
I wanted to have fun at Christmas parties and dress up as Santa for the kids like a normal helpful man
I wanted my dad to treat me like a normal person
I worked at the rainbow
Which is a place for the mentally ill
In Canberra
I cooked for them
I washed up
Took out the trash
Writing poetry
All for no pay
It was a volunteer job
I enjoyed it it was fun
I went on holidays where I was
Known as their little helper
I also was known as the little helper at the footy
I wanted to work but I found paid work hard because they are strict and
Harsh I can’t cope with the people saying work harder
I have never got paid for my acting gigs and poetry slam as well
But I want a proper job hopefully o will do the same and get money
Rather than selling my art at trash and trash and treasure that will make art un fun
And I want life to be fun
I wanted to be nice
I was getting fitter for no money
But I actually had a life
I want a normal job
Rather than take fucken orders for people for art
That takes the fun out of art

— The End —