{"sf1_id":944546,"sf2_id":"ve3Bz8d1","title":"2 Of My Poems","author":"Nicholas_Nekomata","words":623,"posted_at":"2015-12-14T12:30:00.000Z","tags":["Poetry"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/944546-2-of-my-poems","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/ve3Bz8d1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/04/1b/041b2174-528c-4147-89d5-4feedb6f7bd2","description":"I write poetry. My works are on facebook at http://www.facebook.com/nickthepoet I created that group to showcase my poetry and decided to branch out and show it here","content":"Untitled 2015  \nBy: Nicholas Donald Whitefang (a.k.a. Nick Nekomata)\n\nToo much doom  \nToo Much gloom  \nToo much death  \nToo much wastage of breath\n\nSearch your souls for what is right  \nSearch your hearts with all your might.  \nAre you the one still fighting the good fight?  \nWhere is the new dawn's light?\n\nAlone I sit and pray  \nI hope against all hope for a brighter day  \nTears that fall in the earth do they lay  \nOh what to do? Oh what to say?\n\nSadness overwhelms one's heart  \nNever to find that brand new start  \nSurrender to the consumption art  \nStomach bloated they laze and fart\n\nLook around and turn a blind eye  \nPretending there's a clean blue sky  \nAll the while standing by  \nAll the while wondering why.  \nCross thy heart and hoping to die\n\nButter scraped over too much bread  \nLooking down and burying your head  \nAll speechless because nothing can be said  \nWatching the future with fear and dread\n\nBuildings once standing tall  \nTo rubble, ashes, and nothing at all  \nOne by one the mighty all fall  \nUpon deaf ears is the whaling call\n\nSave me, love me, do as I say  \nAll the badness melts away  \nMerriment and mirth come and play  \nHope for that pain to fade away\n\nAngels fly and daemons march  \nAll pass through deaths arch  \nUniform the step stiff and starch  \nDrought the land and thirsts for blood have no parch\n\nIs it the end? Is it the beginning?  \nIs it salvation, rebirth, or sinning?  \nCosmic games into the extra inning  \nIs there any true way of winning?\n\nPoint thy fingers and pass the blame  \nAll call out His holiest name  \nEverything as it was but nothing the same  \nStand thy ground and announce your claim\n\nUnder sheep wool lays duress  \nOn pins and needles does the world stress  \nSomeone anyone save us from this mess  \nGod have mercy on us and heaven bless\n\nWounds so deep they never heal  \nConfusion, love, hate, emotions thinly concealed  \nWeapons and words sharply wield  \nPain so rich you just cease to feel  \nThe lives you live all seem so surreal\n\nAshes, gashes, iron rust  \nKnow not whom one can trust  \nLove, compassion, sex and lust  \nAny salve for painful decay is a must\n\nBelle And The Beaus (a poem for the modern age)\n\nBy: Nicholas Donald Whitefang\n\nBelle in the park phone in her hand\n\nHair glistening in the sun mind across the land\n\nTexting chimes from the variety of the merry band\n\nTips her shades and looks at the words then stands\n\nWalking by, the beaus one by one bling\n\nBeaus on the street cat call and sing\n\nKeeping pace in both places ignoring\n\nRolls her eyes, lets a sigh and a warning\n\nThis beau does offer me cake\n\nThis beau offers me canoe trip on the lake\n\nThis beau offers me wine and roses; oh heaven's sake!\n\nThis beau disgusts me and doesn't think beyond his snake.\n\nOne by one they offer all at the touch of a button\n\nOne by one they fail looking like a glutton\n\nOne by one by bedside her blouse unbutton\n\nOne by one her dreams begin to cease \"alla sudden\"\n\nBelle by dawn does wake arms full of pillow\n\nBelle by the window weeps like the nearby willow\n\nBelle by the sink washes face and fake smile follow\n\nBelle in concealed self pity does wallow\n\nBeaus work by day seem all right\n\nBeaus by the night give Belle a fright\n\nBeaus play games on her screen light\n\nBeaus say things that she hope be right\n\nBelle wanders round alone\n\nBelle throws away her phone\n\nBelle sighs, cries, then just utters a groan\n\nBelle wonders if her Beau is truly anywhere unknown\n\n  \n\n  \n  \n\n","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/323022-nicholas-sykes-school-queer-part-1.json"}