TylerBanasiewicz

1800

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Total poems		12
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not really rhythmic, but a thought.

mental suicide

The look in my stare suggested prayer, raw emotion was all to rare cause the devil was in the mist of the air. What my generation needs is new breathe, exhaling all the drugs & sex and rebelling, remembering that we can dream big like thee reverend. I'm sick of waking up every morning playing Russian roulette, one two three four bullets, pain, happiness, depression, anxiety I pull it. I make my choices you make yours, good & evil thats for you to decide as I continue my never ending game of mental suicide.

fools gold

Twitter is a modern day popularity meeter girls posting half naked pictures looking for famous pages to retweet her. instagram is just for the pretty girls to represent, this world is ***ed up but not worse then the internet. Social media has formed online bulima. You binge, you purge and in comments, likes, and favorites your self-esteem will submerge.

survival of the richest

America, home of the free and land of the brave should be we hate immigrants and are afraid of the gays! Land of the free? What a joke, one half is probably on a beach golfing one stroke away from par, the other half broke. Authority is a bore to me just modern day superiority why is there always money for war and none for the poor? Why does half of the world rely on charity, looking for clarity, but answers are rare to me. It's not survival of the fittest, it's survival of the richest, this life is fast don't blink you'll miss it.

land of the free or gangland?

A recent picture on twitter picture sparked a thought. Is gang violence in Chicago heartless acts of terror or taught? Everywhere you look is a gang rival schools, rival towns even food chains. Republican or democrat? In some places speaking your mind will get you killed but oh well curiosity killed the cat, do you fit in with the loyals or the rats? Hockey sticks or bats? Everywhere is an opinion ready to be backed up, protected and kept. Body after body everyday gangbanger bodies are swept.

internet rhymes

I feel like money was just dropped into society to keep us fighting in one spot, and the government sits back and stirs the pot. Around here, gardens are empty. everybody's fake, in the streets, are the hoes and snakes. America is full of secret societies, so stop looking with your eyes, look with your mind cause its only a matter of time till the only thing left are these internet rhymes.

Dirty secrets

Emotionless motion fill the eyes of to many. The industry has taken the view on sex and skewed it, true passion, removed it and addiction is now ruling leaving boys drooling over girls they will never meet, pornography is Americas secret addiction beating a drum to the same beat of any other addiction, mental defeat. Every attempt at clearing your history another roached joint in the pot, every lie scattered around like a needle in the abandoned parking lot. No longer is trading cards at lunch the move, now its nudes if your not following I like girls daily your a prude since when has it been ok to announce on twitter when your in the mood?

Poetic medicine

I live in a town overly populated with manipulated youth, as long as you speak against authority your speaking truth, only a matter a time before it hits the roof. There is a misconception that your gay if you express affection, or if that girls booty shorts don't give you an erections. Somethings been contaminated with a deadly does of ignorance, im here to cure the infection with my poetic medicine.

Poetry is art

Poetry is art meant to leave a mark on humanity, a mix of reality and insanity society is bland to me with all its formality. America and its immortality are you free or a casualty?