Poll: Orange or Blue
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View poll results: Orange or Blue
4 67%
2 33%
Voters: 6.
Two Sons

Two sons, one young, one old and grey
arrived upon the hills today
the younger spat curses, special is he
the older more wise; cursed sensibly.
To work they set on grass so green
and luscious, so the cows agreed;
though to eat, lay and laze they thought
the grass need not be cut so short.

Thunder rocked the crowds of clouds
as Daisy spoke her thoughts aloud
and told the strangers "please depart
without a murmer, or a start
we need this lush to work and play
(whatever men might try to say)
this green is all we've got to own
so please, oh please leave it alone."

Young man's eyes grew twice their size
he scarred the air with his despise
around the ground the green turned red
surely, he thought, the cows are dead?
Alas, to his bemused belief
Daisy had risen from turf beneath
upon young's head, she had but struck
"That'll stop you saying ****."

The wise man held his tongue inside
surveyed the scene before his eyes,
a brother, still, with 'fork by hand
yet still he could not understand
the shortened grass, the angry cow
the setting sun that forced a bow;

the wise man, in his head found sense
clasped hands infront, one word- repent.

As I Lay Dead

I sped to work,
not because I was in a hurry,
it's just the only interesting thing
I'd do today.

I crushed a fly
as I left my car
and picked leaves off trees
while I walked to the building's door.

A woman was wheeled to me,
She said,
"I'm trusting you with my life,
you know that,

I sped back home that night,
not because I was in a hurry.

Corporate Ladders and Subsequent Fortunes

Aside from the pointless gestures and haggard arms stands a cryptic man, tired from the recent 200 reps on the bag, or the swelling of Para spinal muscles that’s slowly become evident over the years. After a mixing of egg yolks and an eight hundred calorie energy drink he sits at his table reading the news he stole a week ago. Two nuts on the top two on the bottom and voila. “Corporate Ladders and Subsequent Fortunes” “If only I could afford such a pretentious title” And with such morals in mind the man sits questioning…

How could I? Should I? Life or Death? Money?

And with that, he grabs his yellow arm pitted shirt and follows down the marble stairs, No… not marble brick, to the local demoralizing immigration work section to ask for the work he knew they didn’t have, just so he would not have to put on a face when he was asked later about his “steady job”.
“What’s your name son”
“Legally I have no name”
“Well what do you call yourself”
“The very reason for living sir, you can call me that.”
After awkward glances and a passing of a few cents the man moves on.

”Few years ago when I was in school, pa went to ‘nam, or to the local hotel, either way, I was all alone. Dropped out, had to feed ma. She died few years later” “You piece of **** get away from me with your problems, I don’t care! Faggot.” Night soon crept closer and he slowly trudged home, or rather, to what would make do.

Within the flicker of a roadside flare hope stood
Belittled by the con of man amplified
By the seven deadly sins so commonly seen.
And I stood there too and as the dirge of well known
sin wrapped around pretension, things came to focus.
My choice. My life. My death.
I was soon forced to decide which path to take.
In front, a road with a sharp bend around trees
What lay ahead, I did not know.
To my left was a road with a house,
A black house with white shudders.
What if? Could I? Should I? No.
And hope began to fade.
From himself. From others. From memories.
Replaced by the burning desires
To reassure ourselves of things
we already know.
Then I chose, and even through this
creeping burning desire
I will never regret my choice.

I Have Kissed Bayonets.

There is something incredibly appealing about cigarettes. I can't really explain it, but whenever I see someone leave a restaurant to take a smoke, I feel like they're superior to me. Anyone that can use a product that has a huge label warning: "Product causes lung cancer"(subsequently leading to death) and still uses it has balls. I mean, he's a bad ass. There's a social aspect to it, as well. I don't smoke, I'd never think about smoking, but I know the rule: If you have a lighter, and are letting someone bum a smoke off of you, you light theirs first. However, if you're using a match, you light yours first, because there's a ton of sulfur and shit off that match, and you inhale it rather than them. It's almost romantic. I'd strike a match and light mine first. At first she might think I'm rude, but I'd explain it to her, and she would thank me for being so thoughtful. And we would both die on the same deathbed, making love like cigarettes. And I take one final drag, and extinguish myself in a brunette ashtray.
Hmmmm this is difficult, love Bayonets, love As I Lay Dead, the other two didn't do anything for me...
Quote by Cal UK
Alk hit the nail on the head there.