Writers Challenge #22

Discussion in 'Poetry Realm' started by Mind~$oul, Sep 25, 2006.

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  1. Mind~$oul

    Mind~$oul I'm Pretty

    Apr 10, 2001
    Write about someone who is pretending to be someone or something that he is not.
  2. lewdDog

    lewdDog Life is are own illusion

    May 11, 2003
    i like this one cause this is wat the next poem im writing is about....how did u know??

    HILARIONSOUL "one of the roughs,"

    Aug 6, 2006
    The great pretender...

    Why, is it me?
    Tainted and fearful of pleads
    the deeds are at steak, mistakes grown from fate
    the state is full of black men with bars in hand
    the sands fall, never to run out for them
    forever filling life to the brim of doubt, is sin.
    Is it the chaos?
    The wars fought, the gates shut
    the faith smuts, stuck in ruts of dirt and ash
    rebirth is a loud laugh, monotone
    forced to roam the unknown,
    Enter the underworld
    Is it our World?
    To play delusional games
    Slowly spinning on unbalanced equinox
    the sun can’t kiss the moon,
    he's being who he's not
    Our time on earth runs out on love--s plane
    cheated two times- day and night unequal
    see the sequel, we as people are shamed?
    clothes change, hair bangs, fades, gold fangs
    underneath reality cringes,
    churns to see something
    Is he someone?
    that star falling that moon rising
    that wind breezing,
    seize the moment
    a man consumed by who he is not
    Is like a lie to penetrate a woman’s womb
    Yes it is you,
    A myth of illusions describes he who is false
    So understand the bars held in hands
    the sour of blocks
    the cower of cops alone
    the gun blast of our own through homes
    all alone in vanities lost insanity
    of not knowing who we really are
    The Great Pretender.......Yeah!​
  4. Philly_215

    Philly_215 The Silent Poet

    Jan 14, 2005
    i'll jump in and edit this post

    i got you mind
  5. lewdDog

    lewdDog Life is are own illusion

    May 11, 2003
    Tell me how would you describe yourself?
    By the ways others perceive you OR?
    Do you really know who you are?
    Now you can pretend like you know the answer
    But true fully how would you know?

    All your life you have been told the same thing
    By your friends, family, acquaintances, basically everyone
    Could everyone be pretending, lying to you?
    Is that even possibly conceivable in your thought process
    Or is it so obvious that everyone just ignored it

    Could you imagine waking up not being "You?"
    Your whole life so far basically just a dream
    To start over from scratch with no help from anyone
    Tears now stream down your cheeks as u look into yourself
    Did you really think you could just ignore it forever?

    Depression is not a temporary problem,
    It takes a life time solution
    Anyone can say you look so happy
    But true fully how do you know?
  6. Lord RAH

    Lord RAH Grandeur's illuminant

    Jan 18, 2002
    Envisioned imprisoned in a tomb warm as the womb
    My morning is mourning my morning is noon
    Positioned I assume to loom within doom
    I recognize reality and fume
    I split sticks of cigars and fantastic candy bars
    getting lifted and lit into the night wearing a ice grill
    I play fight till midnight is daylight swearing lifes ill
    No impoverished cloaks or broken homes filled with locs
    all I see is postive except how I live
    Except how I give shortened straws
    To scholars with flaws of admiration of outlaws
    Desire for less exudes the very crest of my flesh
    Chasing friction in fiction misspelling and expelling my diction
    Juss lissten
    A paused cause of keeping phony falsehoods so real
    A confused ruse I choose the zeal of mass appeal
    Finding that my imperfections are so blinding
    That this addiction to masquerades is so binding
  7. mr.rip

    mr.rip New Member

    Dec 23, 1999
    you guys are the bomb
  8. Kryptikal

    Kryptikal Soulstice.

    Aug 26, 2005
    The first casualty was yesterday.
    Torn jeans torn to infinity, a pallete of colors, red as blood.
    On my Earth, battered by meteors
    Dancing on orbit to the music of NOW
    the second mask was bought yesterday.
    Eyes that see all but everything
    And observe the nothing with surgeon's care.
    Horns upon my head. A trumpet on my lips.
    Marching to the beat of free minds falling.
    Falling with a thud upon the mortuary floor.
    The third house was entered yesterday.
    Broken windows. Broken locks.
    Broken chimneys, blowing steam like Hell's infernos.
    There's blood on the street next door.
    Someone's going to get arrested, my idol.
    Or maybe my god. I follow them like a disciple
    They are my Jesus, my Gahndi, my Buddha, my Kon Fu Zhi
    Maybe I'll be arrested someday,
    The fourth masquerade was concieved yesterday.
    I wasn't arrested this time. I totally
    tried to buy my soul back in the form of Prada.
    I bought it in tenfold. My soul's still freezing.
    I lied for a fifth time today. I don't do that.
    A new sun rises each day. Glistening blonde.
    Shining red. Or a burning brunette.

    I follow the sun.
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