Sodapop Allerdyce's Poem(s)

Originally posted by BOPRecruit 16
there's no love left in her eyes
no compassion to bring a demise
hollow on the inside
she cries that her life is a tragedy
a sad story that no one deserves to know
keeps all of the pain bottled up
ready to burst upon the unfortunate
rage and violance is the only way
that she can express this untamed creature
trapped and burried under her burdens
getting the feeling like she's getting closer
to being six feet under without really being there
all she needs it to take the blunge
summon up the courage
if she can find some to grasp upon
something real for once
in her entire miserable life
with no light to show support
to guide her when she falls
hurting from the knives and scars
from past demons long dead
desired to be left forgotten

(i'll continue this poem/song when i get back from dinner)

this short poem/song was based off or sounds like when read/sung like: hemorphage (in my hands) by fuel or rexall by dave navarro.

This poem is about a certain guy at school that I don't particularly like and how I feel about his choice of words...

The Brutal of Tongue

why can't i say
what i want to say
but never say it?
why must i bite back my tongue
withdraw from temptation to say it?
i am way too damn nice
to let such comments slip past
let the moment and anger pass me by
opportunity to snap back
oh, i love to imagine how rich
it would be to say such things
how the other would react
let them feel the burn for once
yet that relief never comes
now does it?
for someone who gets under my skin
make me angry or ashamed
such words they speak
cut into my self esteem
nagging at me all day
never going away
to leave me alone
i suffer in silence
never show my pain on the outside
i will not allow them to have it
satisfaction, the knowledge
that they have hurt me so
i may hate them so
when they speak to me so cruely
i have the desire to fight back
either verbally or physically
feeling like they deserve to feel my wraith
for what pain they caused me
people like them are the worst
i wouldn't call them scum
but, at times, they deserve
to be labeled as such
their kind always tearing others down
just for the pure, twisted pleasure of it
making others suffer for their pain
such demeaning attitude's they carry
lessons learned dearly from their superiors
looking down upon them crossly
i don't blame either side
sad to know where they come from
who they learn from
to only know pain and serving it out
for others to sample
the innocent, the naive, the kind at heart
fall prey to many of their sleezy remarks
it hurts deep down
but i keep my defenses going strong
no matter what they say
not to allow them to have any sort of power
can't let victory go to them
to get twisted satisfaction
how their ways disgust me so
but do not feel sorry for me
pity those who attack the fragile
although i speak of many predators
destroyers of emotion
but i have only truly known one
and nearly hate
and yet, pity this one at the same time
although he never did deserve my kindness
crashing and burning my lending hand to him
withdraw my generosity away from him
my aide to him has long past expired
he needs to get burned
not by fire, like you think
but learn to regret his actions, he must
i will not say his name here
i rather ignore his existance
than acknowledge whatever he throws at me
the bastard, the torturer, must suffer
by some other one's hands
who has the courage to stand up against
the brutal of tongue

This poem is very honest to how I felt for the first few days of school this week. One of the very few poems that I have created that's souly about me, my opinions, and not as general as I make most of my work.

veeeery nice poem Boppy😄👆 excellontay as always😊😄

thanks, vera! 😊 this one came from the heart, very personal.

This poem is about no one in particular, but just me focusing upon certain aspects of depression that I've read and heard about. (I might be able to use this for a certain original story of mine...)

An Empty Shell

deep blue eyes numb of all emotion
stiff and bitter like frigid ice
no sign of warmth beneath its depths
beyond compassion and forgiveness
numb to the sunlight raining down
ignoring any sign of humanity
thawing the mighty glacier to no avail
only make the harsh, frustrated storm
of darkened skies and memories
increase their frantic gusts
shunning any who come near
inhabitance of this forbidden land
quite impossible to achieve
the god of this world makes it so
protection from the outside world
of unrelenting judgement
heartless souls beating down
with their words of igonorance
passing their opinion of what they see
the outside of the being
an empty shell
left much to be desire
daily prayers filled with hope
a single wish for redemption
to scrape away the revolting records
of a life lead so horribly
and treated in such a calous manner
never does the public dare to see
pear into what's on the inside
struggling to survive
to free its self from a self made prison
suffering from low self esteem
punishing self mentally
other's opinions just pile on
adding insult to injury
as you can see
not all are self inflicted
the tortured soul suffers greately
feels alone and cold
numerous years of abuse
seems to go on for all eternity
never to see an end in sight
a thousand miles of torture
so much blood shed
so many tears shed and unshed
defenses weakening rapidly
improvment greately desired
but never granted
a dark shadow settles upon the soul
relentless punishment
going all too far
what more is to life
if aide is lost to the tortured one
deff to the rest of the world out there
mind locking down
soul emptying
drying, shriveling up
once beating with life
now frozen over
frigid shivers race through the body
heading for all corners
to conquer on this mad
accidental quest
depression is eminent
beyond those windows to the soul
deep blue is slowly fading
a light growing dimmer to each day
all is left is an empty shell
that can feel nothing

Boppy>>>> no prob😄👆

annnnnnd kick ass (new) poem 😊...tiz full of emotion, which i find to be a necessary 'ingredient' (😄) in a poem

at first, it was going to be another poem about the guy that i don't like...but i decided to make it more general and all. have the poem make readers visualize visble pain by looking into someone's like so in the poem.

This poem is the seventh installment to my poem saga at ff.net called Forever in the Dark, which centers on Once Upon A Time In Mexico's psychotic CIA Agent, Sheldon Jeffrey Sands.

Grim Deliverance

being able to see
what only the eyes can see
color and expression
seems all wonderful
gives meaning to life
compared to one's emotions
observing the world
is but a fading memory now
shades and hues losing their value
deprieved of the simpliest joys in life
to gaze upon breathtaking landscapes
just isn't the same anymore
when one can only feel the gentle breeze
with the echo of nature's daily sounds
mocking me so
a constant reminder of what's not there
all that i have got to look forward
to is darkness behind nonexistant lids
endless abyss of shadows
promising me nothing
lacking things to offer
but fading memories of the past
to haunt me forever more
upon this demanding world
that i no longer desires to be a part of
or at least the portion of my dying being
upon this green earth
i have become so numb to my emotions
inner humanity is a mystery to me
the need to survive is waning
my strength evaporating into thin air
the sensation of being alive
is killing me from the inside
bringing me closer to my demise
whenever that may be
living from day to day
is a difficult struggle
such torture i'm burdened with
weighed down by poor judgement
regrets and demons of my past
eating away at all my hope
although i'm still amongst the living
i've already got the knowledge
that i'm dying, soon to be dead
life doesn't have any meaning
just another way to lash out at me
hurt and scar me for ignorance
for not taking the time to redeem myself
sooner than i had begun to plan
why must everything offered to me
in life, be delayed in delivery?
by the time i get the signs
it's already too late for me
why didn't i see the signs before?
i must've been too damn blind
even before i lost my view upon
this harsh world
even i hadn't been deprieved of them
i would suffer and crumble
under the weight of my heavy heart
depression setting in like rushing acid
eating away everything in its bath
my eyes would have been dead
so long ago
and i wouldn't even know
slowly killing myself
a million miles to the final step in life
death is on the horizon
i ache for a pleasant break
a quick transition onto the next
onto the better life
where i can finally be at peace
may god grant me that much
peace is all i ever wanted

(Also, this poem is loosely based on Linkin Park's "From the Inside", from their sophomore album, Meteroa.)

One more thing, this poem covers how Agent Sands is coming ever so close to giving up on his dreams of redemption.

Corrections to Grammar from "Grim Deliverance"

even if i hadn't been deprieved of them

eating away everything in its path

memo to self for new theme for a new poem: best interest at heart and beauty

Eighth Installment to FOREVER IN THE DARK & Loosely based upon a song by the Calling, One by One, and Nirvana's Lithium:

Sympathetic Hangover

i find myself at another bar
drinking away the pain
since that is all that i can feel for now
this is not how i wanted my life to be
nor to head down this dark path
but i never had a choice
when the turning point came in my life
i ignored it like a fool
all i ever do, all i ever think about
is how much i want this pain to go away
all this grief it causes me
killing, scarring me into oblivion
i am the owner of a black, dark soul
an empty aybss within' my chest
although it may go on beating
full of life still when i'm not
drained of everything
that i once stood for
faith that became my fate
i feel so helpless
like little child
lost and confused in this world
minus the mature level of torture methods
oh, to be that innocent and pure once more
would be devine
a new heaven to thrive upon
than i could be brought back to life
deep down where i'm already dying
alas, i could never turn back time
no matter how much i desire this
it will never be
as most wishes i make in my life
there is no hope left
with one so dark as me
roaming aimlessly without a soul
the will to go on
no windows to feed my imagination
whatever part of me i have left
i pray that it passes on to the better life
whatever that may be for me
if i lay down to my doom
so it shall be
as long as i can live freely
breath the free air
and be born anew
never to be this person again
for i am through being me
if i were a scrape of garbage
that no one wanted
i would tear myself to shreds
and toss the remains in with the waste
light them on fire
feel the warmth of the flames
how beautiful they light up the night
i feel tempted to laugh
but it's all in mockery, make believe
no point of dreaming of that
believing in what's not there
as i continue to drown myself
in this constant misery
lake of golden liquid
that numbs you and blinds you
all in one go as you go on
everyone around me
those who bother to see me at all
even spare a glance my way
their faces are etched with concern
for my health, who needs it
when i'm so far gone into this darkness?
my physical condition is questionable
for i seem to be withering away
losing weight from sun rise to sun set
along with my common sense
to stop this madness
i don't heed their wary stares
although i linger upon the possible
opinions of me
what others think of me
espeically to those who once knew me
if they ever saw me again
would they be compassionate
come to my side and help this poor soul
or be venegful
and beat me while i'm already down
for the count
increasing the blows to my low self esteem
abusing the blind and beaten
what a low and sinful deed
how i hate them
but this is all i can feel
pain and to all it's glorious extents
degrees of torture
i should consider myself lucky today
which is quite rare concept to bring to mind
long forgotten, having luck and fortune
qualities of life that brought joy
and light into my mad world once
so far, no cruel fiends nor demons
that i may see in this hazy world
when i'm blind from this mass consumption
no brutality to come finish me off
other than my state of mind
another pitcher, another glass full
slapping money left and right
without a whim
until a man with long black hair
with pants that jingled, tinkled
innocent clang of a bell
upon entering a small, gift store
placed himself in a cushioned seat
beside me
unaware of who i am
or where i've been
although i cannot see him
for i am blind as a bat
as much as i used to admit
that in the past
i can hear him quite clearly
almost like as if the sounds he made
as he moved about the tavern
where the only sound made
in a silent field at night
with all of its inhabitance
fast alseep and in peace
the clank of something heavy
clicking and snapping at the hinges
like a case of sorts
calculating and gaging
all of these observations
sounds like to me
like i've got a familair beside me
someone of whom i met in the past
how do i remember these things with ease?
beind blind with only a fictional world to guide me
through it all
taught me to trust my insincts
based on what i heard
and not be deceived by what i saw
i am quite bewildered as to why he's here
this infamous guitar player
famous for the plucking of delicate strings
within' a wooden case
creating harmonious notes from the heart
such sounds that tugg at your heart strings
play at your emotions
oh my, what a sight this must be
for anyone who knew who we were
i wonder to what i owe the pleasure for
of having the great, famous
el mariachi by my side
silent is he as i observe
through my senses
measuring him up
my protective barriers
no attempts to form around me
keep me upon my toes
for any signs of danger
but, the mind numbing liquid
had lowered my defenses
making me too wary
to bother with such a werrisome task
even if my life wad depending upon it
i did not have the strength to fight him now
but when i do, i will challenge him
if i'm up to it and have the strength
although not as determined and sharp
as i once had been in my many years
of madness
i seem to be losing my touch
my grasp upon causing others pain
allowing them to suffer for my horrors
getting high off the rush
that is never more
i sway upon my high horse
this long legged chair
too high from the ground for my taste
the world around me, this tavern
seems to keep spinning
never ending rotations
very agitating to the nerves
man, am i in no condition
what a poor state and fool i am
to be this weak
and allow my inferiors to see
what i have hidden on the inside
arise to the outside
both never breathtaking to gaze upon
repulsive are both sides of the coin
silance and the buzzing in my head
like a thousand wasps entraped in their hive
never ceasing to shut up
those voices grinding upon my nerves
digging under my skin
driving the arising warmth in my blood
to new heights
effecting my blood pressure
already at a dangerous high
from overdoses of alchohol
soon i am going to lose it
which is normally around the time
i black out and all is lost to me
my mind shuts down
and i remember nothing
only to awake to a blinding hangover
that i don't deserve, which is ironic
for i drank to receive pain
and feel something in return
christ, that damn guitar player
will just have to wait his turn
to be delt with
i'll be coming for you, el mariachi
as soon as i recover from this horror
that i call my life, my remains
a dead corpse still kicking

Finally, at long last, a new and original poem that I wrote during goverment and mostly at home. I'll provide commentary later on. For now, I'll leave this poem open to interpretation. Enjoy.

The Dying Race

A dark world, a dark view
Neverending misery for miles in every direction
A mighy nation surrendering to the night's great opression
Under the intimidating influence of the all consuming darkness
The people deprieved of their right to breath the free air
Receiving no validation for their opinions, their desires, their independence
A peaceful society under a dictorship
Every single pure soul lain down to grieve
Crying salty, crimson tears
Some try to hold back the inevitable tide, but to no avail
Grey, frosty clouds overshadowing their burdened shoulders
Pressing down on them like lead weights
Leaving them with sour bodies and heavy hearts
Reminding one of a desolate funeral procession
Having lost the dearly beloved
The shade eating away at their place in the sun
No longer does this place matter to the eyes of darkness
All will bow down or perish
Refusing to conform comes at a high price
None would dare to say otherwise
Admitting defeat rapidly ascending from the horizon
Setting the society's hopes and dreams upon the ground
Digging numerous graves to give them a proper burial six feet under
Allowing their aspirations be struck down with dignity
A sad soul, a sad being
That is what you see
A brief glimpse into the great internal suffering of doom

as always, excellent work mon ami😄👆...good job.

any other further comments or critque you would like to add to that?

..no critique at all....infact, I find your writing skills to have improved✅..much is the same with your story pieces.....your vocabulary is very vast, and i admire your passion and ability to write such good pieces😊

my vocabulary contiunously needs to be expand, but i did well with this one and am quite proud of it. what i had meant by critique, as in what do you think it meant and what you got out of it, emotionally/mentally.

😖oh crap....well now I have just shown stupidity😖....damn it....I was thinking of the word 'critism'..😖....*smacks forehead*....

this is a very emotional poem.....i think many lonely people could relate to this....when i say lonely, i mean those who have had a hard life and who......it's as though its telling the story of a bunch of people who have darkness as their only friend....perhaps, i am reading the poem wrong....but this is what i get out of it.

eh, close enough, girlie 😛 basically, the whole poem is pretty much metaphors for one person's life that many can relate to. the nation, the society, the people represent certain, specific memories or emotions. darkness and dictatorship represents depression and sadness that's not quite considered depression, more in general. how the good people are killed of, is darkness, depression injecting it's bitter disease into the joy of the person's soul. that's what the whole poem refers to, a person's depression and how no one see's them suffer but here's a glimpse.

ohhh....ok...understood✅....

😱...you changed my name on ur sig😊....eheh