All Due Restraint

Anyways here's more poetry. I'm posting more than one again.please read and comment.


This voice goes unheard.
The lack of acknowledgement is absurd.
You scream out at the crowd.
Your words, so loud,
Yet so ignored.
Another voice roared.
Heads turned to the speaker.
He cried "Our world is turning bleaker"
Then he gestured for you
You called out to them "What I say is true,
Now is our time.
It is we who will stop this crime.
We must stand up and fight.
Together we will take freedom to new heights.
We shall create something other,
Than a world that pits brother against brother.
Lives are changing,
History is in the making.
It's time to have our say,
To make our voices cry out over the bay,
And echo across this land.
Take each other hand in hand,
Storm through the gates,
This is our fate.
Knowing the choices,
And screaming out with our rebel voices.”



I fear the result
That may come of this.
I fear it can never change,
If we only watch.
I fear that what we'll lose
Could be more than we gain.
Everyone is ignorant,
But no one is innocent.
Society is
A harsh, cruel dictator
That they all follow.
We'll lead a revolution,
And when they ask us
"What's the point in standing up?"
We will reply
"What's the point in standing still?"


The shame is transparent, the guilt not there.
Bittersweet love had always been a lie,
But an admission is something quite rare.
Thoughts of the mind were hidden to the eye.
Lives were unraveled; tied knots came undone
Sun could not break over the horizon.
The loom worked backwards, the thread was unspun.
Such a comatose state that she lies in.
That past time is more than a memory,
More than a nightmare that can be broken.
Intricate lies woven casually,
Hidden darkness with scars as the token
Spreading black, feathered wings to fly away,
Instead diving, caught in the ocean’s sway.


His wounds are on the inside,
But his scars are on the outside
Thin, decorative lines against his skin
Sensual addiction, his mind resides in.
Leaning over the porcelain bowl,
Feeling the grease and fat in her stomach roll
Needing to achieve perfection
This has become her selection.
They fill their noses with fire,
Pop some pills when they start to tire
Push the little needles in their arms
Or smoke a joint to do less harm.
You swallow glass after glass,
Just a little too fast
Drowning out the pain
Being wasted means being sane.
Every day for them is just the same
Until the day that help came.
They saw the beauty everywhere
Knew there was a reason to care
It isn't over yet
So don't let go just yet
Think of all the ends you haven't met.


so yea. ima go do my homework now.