Unknown Author - Poetry

I'm pretty sure it's like that when I send screens/talk about story/lore to my friends xd

How my Limbus posts probably sound to my non-Project Moon fan mutuals

Bleebus Blorbus the Flesh-Rending Giraffe is a metaphor for childhood neglect and toxic relationships, which is very fitting how its E.G.O. Skin-Eater went to Tom Sawyer. Skin-Eater Tom Sawyer synergizes really well with Ten-o-Clock Flash Mob Office Fixer Tom Identity for Bleed and Rupture damage and may also give her ties to The Hat Man in her upcoming Canto.

Ye who are drenched in sin. Rise and face me. I shall guide you to the paradise that welcomes everyone.

My father’s laughter  

Was so loud,  

I could never tell if it was joy or pain.  

What a terrible thing it is,  

To watch your father’s pride  

Fade away  

I’m sorry you had to carry a weight  

You never asked for.  

I miss you.  

writhing, decaying in endless cycles

URGENT HELP🚨🚨🚨🍉🇵🇸

Hello,

How do you do ? I hop to be in a good condition.

This is my special campaign

We hope to help us by donating or sharing to others.

Every donation makes a different even if it a small.

As you know, the war began on October 7 and lasted ten months. During this period, we were unable to obtain food, drink, or treatment because we did not have money.

There is no source of income for the family at the present time, so we are unable to buy food, clean water, and medicine, especially after we are afflicted with the ongoing infectious diseases spread in the north like Hepatitis C disease.

Our house has been damaged a lot since the beginning of the war. We are from the north of Gaza and we are still in the north and have not displaced to the south. We displaced 10 times from place to another seeking to safety .

We hope for your help and support, even if only a little.🙏🙏

Vetted by Femme intifada on telegram.

Also, vetted by gazavetters on tumbler and my number is #60

My campaign was recently vetted by butterfly effect group on Instagram and my number is #964

This is the link if you would to read our story well 👇👇

https://gofund.me/4e896ac1

Thank you all

Spreading the word forward.

"I am a bird,

Locked inside its cage.

I am watched by others with glee,

As they listen to me sing songs of sorrow,

And my everlasting melancholy.

Forever stuck.

Forced to watch as others move along,

While I remember the freedom

That I'm no longer allowed to feel.

I remember the wind

As I raced through the breeze.

Never was I lonely,

With the sun and the sky,

Keeping me company.

Now I just watch

As my friends soar away.

They sing songs of joy,

And of freedom,

And love,

While I waste away.

I am a bird.

I am locked in my cage.

My love,

My freedom,

My joy,

All stolen away."

- B

Hello! This is my first post, so I don't really know what to do. This is a poem I wrote, and I'd be happy to read any criticism or advice you have for me, and I hope my poem was able to make you feel something.

That is a very derpy Shakespeare... Silliam Derpspear if you will

Would you hang or would you sink?

Flutter like butterfly or moth?

Freeze over or return to ash?

Ephemeral blooms

Dress the portico pallid

Yesterday's resolve in soft translation,

Have I always dreamt of fervour

Have I always ached for more

I meet the teasing loss

From where it lingers,

Self evolved lament

It will often be a season

The curious untethered

Reaching out for loves return

If You Give A Chicken Acid...

He’ll probably ask for a Xanax

a couple hours later

and tell you about a bad trip he had in ‘97

and you’ll nod along but you barely speak a bit of poultry.

If you give a chicken acid

he might want some nitrous

so you’ll have to find a balloon. 

He might forget where he is and won’t go home for breakfast.

If you give a chicken acid

he’ll go up to all your friends

and ask for their phone numbers and home address.

And he’ll most definitely stay out too long on the dance floor. 

If you give a chicken acid

he might tell you the truth about crossing the road

but then lie 

about where you can find the bathrooms. 

If you give a chicken acid

he’ll consider staying up with you to watch the sunrise

and maybe 

he’ll give you a line or two. 

If you give a chicken acid

you could wake up with a bad headache

and feathers in your hair

and not be able to drive home until the afternoon. 

There is a poem scratched onto the walls of my throat. No one has ever heard it, but it is there.

Kai Cheng Thom