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wipe the tears from your eyes jilted child, this gilded living quarter, short of the change we need
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I told you no one would care because nobody listens
But you do sometimes and that's fine
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We put spin on everything you see.
Do you feel dizzy? You should.
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In Sam’s to buy toothpaste, a year’s supply for $20,
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shoot the words to the croud
read the script
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wake up, wake up and turn on your radio
pull the shirt over you head
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The MEDIA is the enemy Always creating the race
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A fairy tale related/based poem on a girls natural beauty that she does not see due to her low self esteem
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This is a test of the emergency broadcast system.
Please excuse this interruption.
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A swing is hanging.
by AngelaWilliams
61 lines, 5 comments,
on Jan 27 10:32 AM. In News, Class, Media, Angst, Teen, Suicide, Death, World, Life, Pain, Fantasy
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Media messages equal media monsters,
monsters that hate our hearts
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neglect the pleas
for aid and salvation
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The News:
People are dying in Iraq
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Disrupt the violence fetish for the whores,
they miss their prosthetic pricks bathed in virgin juices.
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One union’s voice
We know
We know
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Do you suffer from any mental illness?
Do you see naked gnomes dancing in your toilet?
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Passively observing off the screens
Mentally distorting
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public based by adoration
revaltion, revelation
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Pretty girls line up on the sidewalks
End to end
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You call it a game,
one that if I play
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Once there were wizards, now only
The elderly are left, and with
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Don’t underestimate the magnetic lure,
the persuasive hypnotic power
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invade their homes leave no one free
close their eyes let them follow me
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It's a poem about the influence of the media, mainly celebrities on people.
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She looked in the mirror and depised what she saw
She loathed every curve and every wrinkle, and flaw
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Help me wash away these doubts / Let me put my faith in you again / You aren't hurting me / So why do I feel betrayed? / Pick me up again /
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Minds fogged to stupidity / taken over by the lust / the beauty, the imagination. / Blind to reality / only the media has proof / guns let off a bang / smoke clouds the minds / common sense fades / -telev
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ah the media
is there anything it doesn't do for us
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Pretty in pictures
Ugly in tears
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She gazes into the mirror Searching for truth
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When I was small, people looked at me and giggled in high pitched squeals They probably thought that I was strange because, well frankly I
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Caught there in the media's amber light, a fossil record: of a moment he still lives.
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Alice, The Wonderland Junkie
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