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    dots Submission Name: process of elimination (please die)dots

    Author: Syn
    Elite Ratio:    4.71 - 115/136/83
    Words: 183
    Class/Type: Poetry/Venting
    Total Views: 1274
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1263


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    dotsprocess of elimination (please die)dots

    you gaze into blindness with blue-tinted vision
    while i stare at the sun with 20/20 precision
    take off your sunglasses, can you see in the dark?
    you simply can't function when your car is in park
    your idle chatter's just that; nothing more
    so my dear, i think it's time we got hardcore!

    your lethargy makes less of me
    ---of me
    and yes, you inhibit the cause
    please die!
    there's too many people, you see
    ---you see
    and too many character flaws
    please die!
    the world just can't handle the weight
    ---the weight
    the whole lot of you are uncouth
    please die!
    and i just can't handle the hate
    ---the hate
    there are too many opinions for truth

    i see what you don't, and that makes me better
    i don't think i've ever followed rules to the letter
    but don't judge me now, because that's old hat
    just know that i'm dying to watch you fall flat
    you're destroying yourselves with your frivolous ways
    and so, now we wait for the end of days...



    Submitted on 2008-08-01 11:47:11     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      You`ve probably heard this before, but your poem reminds me of In Broken Images, by Robert Graves. It`s one of my favourite poems.

    In Broken Images

    He is quick, thinking in clear images;
    I am slow, thinking in broken images.
    He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images;
    I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images,

    Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance;
    Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance.

    Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact,
    Questioning their relevance, I question the fact.

    When the fact fails him, he questions his senses;
    When the fact fails me, I approve my senses.

    He continues quick and dull in his clear images;
    I continue slow and sharp in my broken images.

    He in a new confusion of his understanding;
    I in a new understanding of my confusion.

    Robert Graves
    | Posted on 2010-09-01 00:00:00 | by Soul-Hugger | [ Reply to This ]

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