fuck everything

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fuck it all

I Fuck Everything

IFE

felch it all

fuck this shit.

seriously what the fuck is up with you people
omg wtf is the point of this website
i don't understand
somebody has WAAYYA TOO MUCH FREE TIME ON HIS HANDS
seriously what the fuck
the internets is serious business
yeah man, this guys must obviously do drugs or something
all this goddamn nonsense who the fuck reads this
seriously man
i've lost all faith in humanity
somebody is ACTUALLY gonna read this
what the hell
what the fuck
hahahahahahhahadhgdfgn;yuisehifasifhldfjlasdxcijsdfjj
having fun with those <br>s? break the line
hehe
no
I refuse to have any more of my likeness on riced out yugoooo.
haha
*smile* *shakes head* *mutters*
stop the post
stop the post
stop the post baby

R U Corey Chapman?

Lines of sorrow ran deep across her face.
She was removed from the only love she knew.
Tears welled in her eyes, and slight twitches
In her face made her appear physically disabled.
Yet, she sat quietly among the others,
Dressed in dismal dark gothic clothing that
Was associated with death, and listened.

She was attuned to her surroundings,
And hated that there were those
That kept telling her that she
Was so lucky to have had such a man.
Her love was in the past now and
She had to change her mindset to today.
Without change, she remained in history.

Her heart throbbed hard and slowly
For her loss, but she remembered that
He too had lost the heart of his beloved.

no.

Derailed he strides

The musty night does not grow powerful at his demise

The tracks he makes arranged in ghostly resignation fade

From arm to leg to ground to other ground they are displayed

Before they’re ripped up, waiting for impression once again

Short lives connected reign



Electric town

But he knows cables are not cameras always looking down

They only see the stationary rush of sparking steel

He’ll blind them temporarily; he cares not how they feel

As long as he can get home ‘fore the dreaming hour passes
From his controlled catharsis



Infinity

Is held by him in hatred; he’s afraid of what he’ll see

He has no cause to wish, aspire: when risen from his life

His only aim, ambition is to wield a bigger knife

Perpetually the morning disregards night’s hopes as fake

He too makes that mistake



He may alight

He knows he should right now be staring at a greater sight

He’s hopelessly engaged to darkness, conscious as the sun

He wants to be responsible; he’s not missing the fun

And picking up the rail he refits it ‘cross the line

The metal rods align



Seven oh-eight

The express train up from London will pass this point and disintegrate

He will already be in wide pursuit of his next whim

The sleepers in their meagre bunks are not thinking of him

Their pre-sunrise path is lined by loved and moneyed advert-boards

He flees dawn’s lucid chords



Derails collides

But he does not grow powerful at musty night’s demise

The tracks that he arraigned in ghostly resignation fade

An arm, a leg, on ground, on other ground, they are displayed

They’re ripped up, waiting, shorted wires disconnecting rain

His dream is not awaking

His dream is only pain

fuck double-spacing poetry majors

word.

there have been modifications to that poem since its original conception, the third line of the last verse has become "The tracks that he, arraigned, in ghostly resignation frayed," for instance. if ya still think it's shit plz feel free 2 say so

also the 2nd line of the 4th verse is now "Here lies just what he wanted, found without the aid of light"

fuck you

fuck poetry

fuck the tracks that he, arraigned

i think we need to take this global again for a sec yall

FUCK EVERYTHING

good call.

FUCK IT ALL

FUCK THEM ALL