pylonZealot

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The Robin by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

The Robin

There once was a little robin that dreamed of flying free But it was trapped inside a cage from the moment it came to be It pleaded with the grinning man to let it out to see All the world outside its bars the sky was meant for me Of course my dear he said with glee you know you need only ask But first, you see you must pay me because I own of thee The Robin was quite dismayed as they were rarely paid Employment being scarce to one living in this age But I have nothing to trade, the dear Robin said my finances are quite dead The grinning man laughed with evil mirth fear, not my little bird Soon you will sing with all that freedom brings and all I'd ask of you Sell me your wings

God is by pylonZealot, literature

The Red Baret by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

The Red Baret

There once was a man dressed all in red For our freedom he fought, or atleast thats wat he said "We will take back what is ours", at the oppressors he cursed "Its our right we demand cause we stole it first". He comes to right the wrongs of the past, to clear up our consternation. He will do this with some "carefull" words and "peacefull" demonstrations. "We must free the economy and seize its prodution" "I can distribute it much better" he claimed. "Minus my small deduction" He selflessly fights for those who have less the small, the week. For you see, he throws them crumbs from his BMWs backseet "We must not tolerate these others and t

Stay woke by pylonZealot, literature

Illusie by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

Illusie

Bring my jou illusie die leen wat bied jou gemak Kom ek breek hom oop en wys daai gemak lê baie vlak Maar nee jy klou vas, sê onderdrukking is jou las Oorleef dit nie eers ŉ vraag of twee Is dit dan so swak? Wie weinig wonder waarom waar wat Sal sekerlik sink sonder siening Want almal kan jou vir die gat vat Wat dryf my om te wikkel wat dryf my om te krap wat dryf my om te grawe waar ander selde kanse vat Is dit dat ek net moet eerlik wees hoe ek daaroor voel Dis wat die brein van vol is wat dan oor die lippe spoel As wel moet eerlik wees is ek moeg vir die debat Dis elkgeval elk se eie keuse watter pad hy dan moet vat.

I See by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

I See

Mother, father you know I can see Al of the things you did for me I saw the long hours of work at jobs both hard and demanding Sometimes I’m amazed your both still standing I saw you in the hospital, sick from the stress you had to stay Then I saw you back at the job come the very next day I saw whatever money you make never selfishly spent I saw that to our benefit went every single hard earned cent I saw you always made time to help with any old school task I saw you give your all no matter what, I only had to ask I saw when times were though you did not want us to worry I saw how you tried to give us the best and if I was ever Un

Shadows on the wall by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

Shadows on the wall

The darkness from outside, seeps slowly through the blinds as I add another coal to the flame Tables and chairs the painting by the stairs all dissolve to be mere shadows on the wall our dreams of yesterday turn somber and sinister For in the past they always stay as everything has an appointed hour For every construction plan there is a demolition man cause our dreams are only shadows on the wall With long and much fanfare we see love spark like a flare and just as quickly, it is no longer there for love is just a shadow on the wall In black or white we dress In procession or convoy we all wonder how long we have left so live

Time in a bottle by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

Time in a bottle

If I could save time in a bottle, What memories would I care to choose? Every day, every hour, every minute that I spent with you, That’s what I'd like to view. Cause there never seems to be enough time To do and say the things we have on our mind. As the years keep on passing us by We lose sight of what matters most, Even though we may try To hold on and never let go If I could save time in a bottle, How I'd like to share it with you. Then you could stay, another day for eternity we while away In the moment could we find a way? But there never seems to be enough time For all of the fun and all of the shine As life marches on

Bitter einders by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

Bitter einders

Suid-Afrika was nog nooit ŉ gemaklike plek water is maar min, die son brand alles vrek Dit vat ŉ besondere hardkoppige mens om ŉ lewe te Wil uitkrap waar geen ander dit sal wens Die gevare is vele, beide mense en diere Diep wonde wat loop weens sosiale skeure Maar tog bly ons floreer deur al die swaar kry en pyne Want slegs daardeur kry ons die reg om te sê: dit is waarlik myne So al brand ons land dalk tot die grond sal ons nie vlug na vere en heinde Ons sal saadjies plant daar in die as nog tot die bitter einde

If heaven wont help by pylonZealot, literature

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The Robin by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

The Robin

God is by pylonZealot, literature

The Red Baret by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

The Red Baret

Stay woke by pylonZealot, literature

Illusie by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

Illusie

I See by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

I See

Shadows on the wall by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

Shadows on the wall

Time in a bottle by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

Time in a bottle

Bitter einders by pylonZealot, literature

Literature

Bitter einders

If heaven wont help by pylonZealot, literature

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RPG, IRT (Traditional) by AussieDidge, literature

Literature

RPG, IRT (Traditional)

RPG, IRT - by David Nicholas I’m all of twenty-three years, so the concern’s valid That I won’t find life’s meaning, in this word salad But I’ll solve this enigma, of daunting and doubt By proposing these games, for proof of our bout. First the tutorial; you crawl, stand then you walk While you cry, then you scream, then finally you talk It’s the stage that only ends with one’s last breath As you’ll constantly explore life’s complex depth. After the basics, you add the unique touch School’s the place to shape skills, specialties and such But whether that’s required it’

What's Left of Me by dayspassions91, literature

Literature

What's Left of Me

You stole my heart and took my breath, and left me on the cusp of death. You pierced my mind and sheared my soul, and in my head you left a hole. You took from me more than I knew to benefit no one but you. What’s left of me, a man abused, still soldiers on, a body bruised. How dare you say you take no blame; you were the one behind your games. You lying thief. You wretched one. May Heaven help its wayward son. All that I lost I won’t get back. I know for sure. I know for fact. What’s left of me now soldiers on, what used to be now all but gone.

Who You Are by InsanelyCute, literature

Dancing Shoes by NormallyMe, literature

Literature

Dancing Shoes

Gotta clean my sneakers. They're all I've ever owned. They're not the hand-me-downs that my brothers have outgrown. Stowed beneath my bed in the box that brought 'em home. I only bring 'em out when I gotta hit that zone. Strappin' on my J's with that clean white lace. They cushion all my woes 'cause that sole knows my soul. These are not just shoes. These are my angel wings. They shutout the world, and let me live within my dreams. Even when when I'm beaten, battered, broken boned, Gotta clean my sneakers. They're all I've ever owned.

Old Man by EdenSilence, literature

Literature

Old Man

The songs plays on repeat. On the dying recorder. The radio has nothing but static. An orchestra of noise. Voices without meaning. The old man sat, on the porch of his home. Starring blankly into the future. Future, you asked. What sort of future does an old man has. Listening to the old songs plays. The broken static radio sings. Future. A joke, a fluke. The neighbouring kids screams and jock. Kicking the ball up high, and lands on his lonely porch. The old man yells, waving his cane like Zeus' hammer. Scoffing off the kids in the crudest manner. And there the story told. From one, to another. The dying old man at the corne