Assume its just not worth getting back up.

[scarypuppy]

Yeah....well believe it or not ive written poetry.
Not good poetry but its poems none-the-less.

first off:

WE ARE LEGION.

a dollar a dozen.

a one in a million.

people cut down to ammounts and percentages.

personal worth does not exist.

all there is, is you and the Almighty.

weither it be the Almighty Dollar, or a being we know as God.

its up to you.

Swinging back and fourth.

between hypocracy and Theology.

When one is alright another is not.

Children dying in the streets,

with their bodies shuddering and their stomaches distended,

take back seat to a life yet had.

Women are whores, women are saints, women are objects with different names.

Men are beasts, men are Gods, men are never shown as frauds.

Hands to hold, a body to grip, a mind to carry, a burden to shoulder.

Two wrongs really dont make a right.

but hell we're going in a circle.

Self-Pity takes more than war or famine.

minds removed, dreams crushed, and faliure a virtue.

underacheivers seen as the Pinacle.

while brilliant minds are left to die.

Where does the cycle end......

You.

[scarypuppy]

Poem:

SAMMICH?

Smiling faces line my hall of fame,
a wallet with a few missing seams.

Bring me back down to earth,
I know what humble means,
but practice makes perfect.
Please share your tips.

Nothing is new with your actions,
All that is done Comes from you,
No matter what I can think Of,
How to,

Keep,

you ,

 For me.

Dreams made of medication and nightmares of candy,
the sweetest things scare us to death.

Hold me till dawn appears, then put me down right after.

[scarypuppy]

Poem:
CATCH THE SHELL (ITS ALL I HAVE TO PROVE YOU KILLED ME)

you coulda tried harder hon, at least taken the bullet instead of grinning and walking as i Bled from my chest whistling that Sweet Nevermind, "Space, Love, thats all i need."

Space, colder than the real thing yet just as inviting, at least in space they can hear you scream for more!!

OH what a preety little whore, dancing with that Chelsea smile wider than the Bridge you threw us both from, OH OH OH

Now im not complaining, but at least a path littered with bodies is softer than your excuse for Devotion.

Space, colder than the real thing, yet just as inviting, at least in space they can hear you scream for more!!!

Hon, i was dead before you Batted an eyelash

[so yeah, more to come, tell me what you think.]

[Dr. Strange]

I them!!

[scarypuppy]

Nevermore (Also, this is the name of the upcoming serious story im doing.)

Make it up.

Symptoms of a life poorly led.

where you can get off,

dust off,

your  moldy boots.

so the trail on your shoulder,

is not mine,

but a being who formerly turned to you for comfort.

That person's been and gone.

all thats left of them is a trace smile, a nervous glance, a quivering lip.

Make it up.

Make Me up.

[scarypuppy]

What is the Rider's Name?

How does this come to pass.

A void filled by your selfish contempt,

Ideals become shattered.

All that matters to you from within your withered visage,

is the dreadful stasis of the world you see unfit for even yourself.

Be it he who frees you from your assumed burden.

Just know that no one else shall feel  weighted.

Be gone, and shall the darkness be your tomb.

[Dr. Strange]

Lovely, Master.

[scarypuppy]

HAIL TO DEBAUCHERY!!!

[Dr. Strange]

? ? ? ? What are you talking about?

[scarypuppy]

Dedicated to my Pet, whom I will forever know as Broken. (No pun)

Oh but what
Days have passed
that this child should be,
no more to me,
than a young woman,
to which I hold nothing,
but reverence and respect.

Artistry by hand is her trade,
while mine is of the written word,
now If I only I could sing, ( I can but not wonderfully :O)
and she could build,
we would be the culmination,
of all Mankind has striven for.

Always kind,
never negative,
towards me in the least,
I always found support
from this person,
to which I hold nothing,
but reverence and respect.

She is now, beyond me,
in skill and in prowess,
but yet she remembers,
her young master.

And from time to time,
Nudges him to finish,
A DAMN PROJECT.

Much Love, Exe's and Oh's
                                                     Yours truly and sincere,
                                                                                                  Eraqio (Emopuppy) Reyes.

This is a message from the trash ridden desk of Emopuppy to one of his few correspondents, any and all claim to dedication and or credit goes completely to the aforementioned Broken-Hearted, Regardless of identity change and or personality or mental condition.

Emopuppy is a young author based out of Brawley, California, he is still in the process of writing two novels, though his procrastination and overall busy schedule have left little in the way of leisure.

(PS: all that crud at the end was for Sheets and Giggles.)