• Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Physical prowess endures the rep of a bad rap,
    Being the victum of assault, from a weaker label.
    A mulitude of causes are put upon a tender sap,
    While defending the results of a constant stable.

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    Physical prowess endures the rep of a bad rap,
    Being the victim-of-assault, from a weaker label.
    A multitude of causes are put upon a tender sap,
    While defending the results of a constant stable.

    The stronger anatomy is told…by various stories,
    That, gossip-taunt shades the dependable image.
    Conditional emotions–shake loose bad deplorery,
    And measure both genders…for cruelty damage.

    Ungrateful fools assume an angry reputed tale;
    And thus, add neglect to an accusation in black.
    Opposition colors disobedience…to insert a nail
    Into a dying coffin-of-courage…to claim a lack.

    The weaker gender stoops–with lies of revenge,
    Because the physical strength threatens to win.
    Therefore, cast a shadow for tender off-spring,
    And insist that good is bad, and stronger is sin.

    Evil descriptions form various shades of abuse;
    Devils laugh at the absence of communication.
    A mean silence is a perfect handy tool to use,
    For aggression will not appear in the situation.

    Believe that harmony relies on a world-to-man,
    As the woman delivers a craft of delicate hate.
    There is no way that man can do what he can,
    In the resolute boldface lies of a gender mate.

    Money is a physical abuse–with enormous pain;
    Greater than a temporary colorations of an arm.
    Even an abuser opens the devil’s gate to insane;
    To feel the devastating effect of monetary harm.

    Still, no excuse can condone any type of harm;
    Emotional, financial, nor another arm of offense.
    Physical abuse cannot praise the rise of charm,
    As a reputation assault is no justifiable defense.
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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Behind every stressful man is a gender-split;
    Delusive minds of the sexes, just…may not fit.
    Waiting!…like vultures hanging up in the sky,
    Systematic powers…pamper this defiant cry.

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    Behind every stressful man is a gender-split;
    Delusive minds of the sexes, just…may not fit.
    Waiting!…like vultures hanging up in the sky,
    Systematic powers…pamper this defiant cry.

    Man labors constantly to blend a gender-split;
    But, sex is a convenient tool for digging a pit.
    Swooping into play, the vultures grasp a rule,
    To unfold a cry-of-delusion…on a gentle fool.

    The stressful man is no fool…when he begins;
    ‘Cause kindly, sex is gentle with his lady friend.
    The vultures gather to offer laws of legal use,
    As a gender-split cries “rule” for spouse abuse.

    Effort arises with a devotion to serve a cause;
    The struggle to appease sex…is having-a-ball.
    Vultures see no virtue–split down-the-middle;
    Mean…merits a reward, as gentle means little.

    A gulf betwixt the split…is a resolute mystery;
    ‘Til finally, patience survives a sexual sensory.
    Vultures are dumb as post–come from space;
    Their function is to legalize the perpetual race.

    Work is man’s character–woven into a vanity,
    That the act of gender sex…is virtually a duty.
    Basically, the value in man’s work…turns a lie,
    ‘Cause a clever fickle female is the angle why.

    When the female refers to man–as filthy scum,
    Our system declares his devotion–a dirty bum.
    Therefore, a gender-split is a mystery to mend;
    Brazenly, to repair the bedroom with his friend.
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  • Passing pathetically beyond the mind,
    Floating impulses through a journey.
    Bright noses portray an abusive shine;
    Slippery feelings will elude a burning.

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    Passing pathetically beyond the mind,
    Floating impulses through a journey.
    Bright noses portray an abusive shine;
    Slippery feelings will elude a burning.

    Foreign fluid–intrusion of the blood;
    So long as beautiful teeth are straight.
    Nutrition fails…at the value of crude;
    Senseless elements rule a crazy mate.

    Poor intellect lights the scab of flesh;
    Lingering focus nearest the blurry eye.
    Behavior delivers a slabbering splash,
    Losing direction, due…confusing lies.

    Funny ways harbor a deceptive light,
    Staggering carelessly along some line.
    Why trust a friend who tells these lies?
    Seeking happiness…in the bottle kind.

    Victum idleness…in this familiar pickle,
    Jabbing airwaves…for a valid purpose.
    The pain betrays a meaningless giggle,
    Laughing aimlessly at this dingy circus.

    Fun surrenders to this heap of sadness;
    Maturity will carefully witness the pain.
    Precious flesh stares…into a weakness,
    Without an accusing thought to blame.

    Forsake the direction of liquid journey;
    Recapture true wit…onto solid ground.
    Happiness is an instrument of learning;
    The mind is a goodthing to keep around.
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