[x]

I am.... Stereotyped.I am.... a nerd.
I wear glasses,
I play in the band,
I get good grades,
Like video games,
I'm weak and spineless
But so much smarter than people
Like you.

I am.... an outcast.
I dress funny,
I act weird,
There's something wrong
Inside my head.
I'm too dumb
To understand people
Like you.

I am.... an art freak.
I doodle over everything,
Dress a little different,
I am always colorful
And pretty happy,
I see the world
Differently than people
Like you.

I am.... a gay guy.
I talk like a girl,
I just adore the color pink,
Oh, and I'm going to Hell.
I have no morals,
And instead I have AIDS
And should be kept from people
Like you.

I am.... emo.

To Be LonelyIt's a hollowed grave
Six feet under your six feet under and you
Just
Keep
Falling

Clammy hands under screaming light
You blink out sun-dust and stifle a groan
Because you feel so tired and too self aware

Tear up a page in your childhood diary
Your words are swallowed whole so they can be
Just
Like
You

Invisible doesn't feel quite like the right word
There is such a difference between feeling invisible
And knowing you are ignored

Arch your back and cry to the sky
Your bones are breaking beneath the
Weight
Of
Solitude

Heaviness beats in time with your breath
Shackles and chains weigh down your weary lungs
Your ankles

Dark was the lightIn the dark you can cry,
no one has to know why.
You can sit and lament,
ponder where your strength went.
Here you can let it all go
and no one else has to know.
It may be a time all your own
where you may feel so alone
but it's a time that you need
to just let your heart bleed.
To release tears and sighs
and begin your goodbyes.
Yes, in the dark you can cry,
without refrain to deny,
for once you let the pain go,
in the dark you will glow.

Unwanted FutureMy stomach flips,
my breathing gets deep,
I'm sorry love but
please just let me sleep?

It's hard to live
taking day by day
when it seems to pass too fast
and you struggle on the way

What future awaits me?
A small dog, swing on the deck,
the picket white fence and
a fake family in depth.

A kiss on the cheek and
lunch in paper bags,
a promise to behave
but love, the days just drag.

Will it be the same routine
that I face right now?
A fake smile and laugh
that struggle to be found.

The passion fades
with the will to explore,
and you grow older along with
the slamming of doors.

Your voice screams,
your hear

White Boy"White Boy"

One thing I know for certain
Is that I'll never know what it's like
To exist in the United States Of America
In any form other than white

I'll never know how it feels
To be African, Spanish, or Asian
Because all I ever knew
Was how to be Caucasian

I'll never know the struggle
To be forced to maintain bravery
What it's like to be oppressed
What it's like to deal with slavery

Further if I may add
I never had to endure
The rights women and gays fought for
Before we found a cure

I'll never know the feeling
Of having rights taken away
Just because of my skin
Or just because I'm gay

Its this very recognition
That C

PrideIt is not a disease.
It is not a choice.

It certainly isn't in just black and white,
No, there are many colours in a rainbow.

It is not just you.
It is not just me.

It certainly isn't abnormal,
No, there are many people like us.

It is not only painful.
It is not for attention.

It certainly isn't a game,
No, this is serious.

It's what you make it out to be.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

I'm SorryI'm sorry for being me
I'm sorry for having to grieve
I'm sorry I'm not perfect
I'm sorry I don't know everything
I'm sorry I can't live up to your standards
I'm sorry I'm not always strong
I'm sorry for being an introvert
I'm sorry for being different than you
I'm sorry I'm not what you expect
I'm sorry I'm me.

Light of an angelYour presence allures me
It also ensures me
That I'll be protected
Never neglected
Your wings glow white
All through the night
As you fly gracefully
I wait patiently
Because I know you will come
No mater what I have become

Don't I deserve it?Why is the flesh so fragile?
Soft skin turns to jagged red lines
The day before the snow came
Three years ago so similar
Right to this day, before the moon came out
This life I live, it frightens them
One week ago I finally went insane
I cut some more jagged lines
Right down to the bone, my love
I hope this hurts you
As much as it hurts me every day
Don't I deserve it, my love?
After all, I blame you
All of my insecurities, spoon fed
Only by you, my sweet love
So go home, let me rest

Do I not deserve it, my love?

The little thingsThe little things they said,
Are what matters the most.
Hello! Goodbye! Can I help you?
Providing aid to some lonely ghost.
Are all forgotten in the blink of an eye.

I'll walk into a room and say good morning!
Noone looks up, but a few albeit they were yawning.
I'll stand in line, waiting on my turn.
A gentleman cuts in front, looking quite stern.
A passerby bumps into me and spills coffee on my shoe.
Not a word of apology, even as I smile "Hey, howdy do?"

I'll stand on the sidewalk next to a puddle so clear.
A driver will pass, splashing me while the street kids cheer.
I'll leave my phone unattended next to my l

Back ThenLooking back,
everything was so simple,
so pure.

Laughs everywhere,
not a care in the world
Those years were nice
Maybe even the best so far

But with age comes
a burden: knowledge.
To know life
is to truly know despair

So during the
worst of times,
I choose to forget
and be pure once more

If tomorrow I don't Wake upI wonder what would happen
If I was never to wake up
Would people even care
I wonder if a commotion would erupt

Would anyone even notice
That I wasn't alive
Would my mother even mourn me
Or could she guess that I wouldn't survive

Well I'm still not dead
But I can barely call this living
I feel like a corpse
That hasn't given up on breathing

But I wonder what would happen
If I was actually to die
Would anyone be bothered
Or care enough to cry

Maybe everyone's just used to
Me living like a corpse
So no one would be bothered
Or life change the slightest off of course

But if I would never wake up
There's no way to know what

A flower in the darkIn a world of darkness a small flower grows.
So soft and sweet its existence against the cruel darkness that surrounds it.
It slowly grows the only life in this barren world.
A lonely life it doesn't realize.
A blissful peace, full of an unknown longing, of unknown feelings.

In a world of light nothing in the barren ground grows.
A planet full of light, yet no life to use the gift.
The world slowly dies with no life to live on it.
A painful death that none will morn.

The flower reaches out in the darkness searching for something unknown.
The world cries for life.
So quiet is their beings but to them it is everything.
A flower who

A promiseA Promise

You've taken away everything:
~My family, my love, my life.
You've broken oaths and struck me down:
~I'm just an obstacle in your way.
You're going through life your own way:
~A path of hate, a path of pain.
A promise means nothing to you.

Well i'm making a promise to you.
I will tear you down.
I will break you, crush you, and make your life hell.
When you're begging for death, i'll know i have succeeded.
When you're lying, twisted and broken on the ground, i'll be satisfied.

I can't be deterred, for i have nothing to fear.
Pain means nothing; death is trivial.
I have nothing left to lose: you've taken away all of tha

LiarsOh she's cute!
But she's fat.
Well what about him?
He has acne

Jezz, maybe her?
Do you see that? She has a bulge.
In that case, what about him?
That's... a guy? He looks like a chick!

Well, what are you into then?
Someone normal
Define normal?
Blonde, curves, huge tits, smart.
And in men?
Wait, what? Ew! Don't be crazy.

I'll pray for you.

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Submitted: November 21, 2012
File Size: 859 bytes
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The quiet ones

by ~GriffinBing, Nov 21, 2012, 2:37:22 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

The Quiet Ones

It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for:
the ones who sit in class, doodling in their notebooks.
Alone they're harmless and keep to themselves.
But don't be fooled, their brains are a flurry of activity.
Put two or more of them together, and you'll wonder what the heck happened.
These "quiet ones" start talking, start plotting.
They've planned each other's brutal deaths....multiple times.
They've discussed the zombie apocalypse....and how they'd start it.
The end of the world has four backup plans....to ensure its demise.
And you can almost guarantee your death has been penciled in for next Tuesday.
So be careful, 'cause it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

The quiet onesby ~GriffinBing

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Just a little poem telling the truth about the "quiet ones" you see in class everyday.

80....favourites?.....

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

neutral 1 1

~Dude-Im-Only-Human Dec 16, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I'm not really a quite one, sometimes I am and I like talking about the zombie apocalypse that WILL happen...

*foreverjenjen Dec 8, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I'm a "quiet one"... I don't plot people's deaths or how I'll start the zombie apocalypse or the end of the world, but I admit that I've pondered how they'll happen... Wonderful poem! <3

~Valkaneer Dec 5, 2012 Professional Writer

The quite ones also come up with many good concepts for the betterment of all men/women on the planet. You write, so I think your a "quite one" in some facet or you'd not waste time in the effort of singular thought. The only reason a quite person might plot is as a response to the injustice generally accepted as fine by the masses. The chaos that erupts then after the fact is not wholly their own fault, but invariably they will be saddled with the full burden of responsibility. In fact, if you see a quite kid in your classrooms, the better question to ask is why they are so distant from the crowd in the first place?

I have found that many "quite" (or maybe a better word for the shallow to "wiki" would be "ostracized") people are intensely captivating, well educated whatever age, and forced out of social niches because hardly anyone in them even understands what comes out of their mouths or what they put in words. The fault is not their own, but the culture of madness they are forced to live in.

Maybe its better to "include" them in "your" segment of society than shun them. To bring them out of their shells. Or we could just continue to be separatists poster children and allow the unhappy endings to continue to take place by helping to foster segmentation, elitism, and impersonal apathy.

Just a thought...or a few...

~GriffinBing Dec 6, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

yes. that's all true.

The poem focuses on one group of the quiet ones.

~Valkaneer Dec 6, 2012 Professional Writer

I figured that.

Hence, the fav!

~ashadeyfigure Nov 27, 2012 Student General Artist

Ooh my gosh, this is like SCHOOL!!
Outstanding job meh friend!!

~Yvengy Nov 26, 2012

I sort of walk the edge of the quiet one crowd. Some of my friends are not quiet at all, but there's at least one who certainly is. We often plot things, and can get rather morbid. I could see us destroying the world. We hope to slowly, but surely pick off every boy in our class. Our mad science schemes manifest themselves as random looking doodles in her notebook, and only we get what they mean. We have plans to set ourselves up as rulers of at least 10 different dystopian societies. In our spare time, we write fanfic of disney princesses brutally murdering each other, and plot the demises of the characters who dare to love our favorite book characters. Is that bad?

~Scr1b3 Mar 13, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Can you be my mentor?

~GriffinBing Nov 26, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

not at all. that sounds about right.

!alex21metallicapaul Nov 23, 2012

god-damned genius.

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