When Does It End

Chaotic spiral out of control in frontal view
Lies and alternative facts he continues to spew
This nation built upon lies and war
Everything is tainted and rotten to the core

There’s no cure or hope for humanity
Sticks and Stones plus words break sanity
Doesn’t matter the political party when all is a calamity.
Whilst you scream for God with your fake Christianity.

Lords name taken times ten in vain
Repeating the history of Able and Cain
All humans do is leave a blood stain
All I can do is shake my head in shame

As I watch the world break and bend
As I wonder how people can pretend
Watching greedy people collect and spend
All I want to know is when will it end.

© 2019 By M. Robbins
Photo Credit – Daveed Benito

Advertisements

Twisted Cruelty

Rumors spread like wildfire
Fools believe without enquiring
Victims cease to defend
All that’s left is to break and bend
Nothing now except a Victims Silence
Victims are now in compliance

Drowning without water present
Emotional baggage continues to descent
Blackened Soul of depression
Constant are you okay question
Staring off blankly into the abyss
All while they became pissed

Depression has set in
Veins run thin
Blood pools on the floor
They are rotten to the core
Cyberbullies take another life
They didn’t care if it was a mother or Wife

Screaming Screw the Masses
As they act like asses
As they Screw the Victims of hurtful rumors
With Their following becoming tumors
All while they act like Royalty
With their pens twisted cruelty.

©2019 By M. Robbins

Suicide Bomb

Thrown under the bus times ten
Like groundhogs day it begins again
The past resurrects in front of me
I scream let me be free

tick tick tick

Harassed by sheeple
These are not ordinary people
How my heart hurts yet nothing is equal
Especially when we are past the sequel

tick tick tick

Every day is a nightmare
No more can I bare
No windows, just wall as I stare
I know what to do it’s clear

tick tick tick

All I desire is silence from hecklers
Yet still, they send their beckoners
The appeal of the knife
The appeal of ending this life

tick tick tick

He tells me to ignore and stay calm
He doesn’t understand I’m a Suicide Bomb 💣

© 2019 By M. Robbins

The Darkling Thrush

The Darkling Thrush

The Darkling Thrush By Thomas Hardy

The Darkling Thrush

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter’s dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.

The land’s sharp features seemed to be The Century’s corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

Lost

Lost

Like a robot I have no emotions
Many days I go with the motions
Yet something is lacking
My mind seems to be cracking
Weak and leary I have no backing
heartbeats you are no longer tracking

What has become of thee
That I can no longer see
No longer am I free
Cursed for all eternity
who am I with no identity
I have no warmth or amenity

Crushed is thy heart of homogeneity
Change has come with this oddity
My world filled with the darkness of late
Things at random and can’t contemplate
Madness swirling and lustful hate
Oh consciousness you took the bait

Here I will in the darkness stay
Waiting for that light of day
Even if I should fade away
Whilst demons have their place and play

My Soul comes with a cost
And thy veins will be frost
Eyes Have been exhaust
Myself entirely is lost

©2019 by M. Robbins

Pressure

Society’s Plight Kills the weak of heart
It leaves people strewn and torn apart.
Bit by bit both sides pull the string
That makes the ominous one sing.

Each passing day turned into 3 years
full of tears and fears
Yet mostly full of radicals racist cheers.
One more year of torture and pain
then it is the voting game.

Seems to me we’re better off with naught
Since each side can be bought
here’s a lesson that can be taught
The truth should always be sought.

Media has a dirty role
sometimes they contaminate the poll
Media also likes to play the troll
Even when they rip the toll

Yet this year might be a treasure
Even though we’re all under pressure.

©2019 by M. Robbins