[x]

TrustTrust.

Hard to gain.
But easily lost.

The effects will always remain.
Unless we pay the cost.

Instead of abiding by t

Money, money, moneyMoney, money, money.

I laugh even though I don't find it funny.
How stressed I am because of my lack of money.

How much my life actually depends upon it.
How much the fate of my future actually rests upon it.
How easily you can lose friends because of the lust for it.
How friends can become enemies just because of the hunt for it.
My stress levels increase to the point where I have had enough of it.
I bury my woeful head because I know it is impossible to run from it.
Although I will always need money, I will never have any love for it.

Without money would there be such a thing as rich and poor?
Will the streets still be filled wit

I'm TryingI'm Trying.

What more do you want from me?

Can't you see I'm trying my hardest?

I'm trying to make something of myself.

I know nothing is promised and I may not be the fastest.

I know my attempts have not resulted in any form of wealth.

What more can I do to prove to you that this is what I want?

I can see you are finding it difficult to get past this.

You think there is more I can do to help myself.

You can see that I'm struggling; I never tried to mask this.

I want you to understand that this is something I must do for myself.

But all that I will ask for you is,

I hope that one day you will believe in me.

Believe in everything

SurvivalSurvival.

Give a man a fish he will eat for a day.
Teach a man to fish he will eat for a life time.

Give a man a gun he will rob a bank.
Give a man a bank he will rob the world.

We adapt and adjust.
Constantly dithering on the cusp
Of what is considered wrong and right,
Ensuring that our ambitions remain in sight.

We would be willing to do anything
In order to get what we truly desire.
We would be willing to risk everything
Even putting our friends in the line of fire.

We may share the bounty with others,
Allowing them to experience the fruitful taste.
Given the option we will even care for our brothers.
Just as long as w

PerfectionPerfection.

She lodges her fingers down her throat.

Clasping onto the wall as she recklessly chokes.

She reinserts her fingers back in forcibly.

Deliriously trying to make her body thinner.

She swoons and slumps to the floor nauseously

As she attempts to regurgitate her dinner.

Her throat aches as she screeches out coarsely,

With her hand covering the image in the mirror.

Her head now rests on the on the rim of the toilet seat.

She wants to eat but she just has not got in her.

She desperately begins to scream out inaudibly.

Her mouth now tastes of something pulpy and bitter.

She examines the red color of the fluid cautiously.

Re

Reflected InspectionReflected Inspection

Here I am again examining my disfigured figure in the mirror.

Fondling my fat wishing I could trim it down with a pair of scissors.

Relentlessly poking, prodding and picking at my face.

Leaving behind nothing but a black, coarse and scabby trace.

Furiously patting down my cheeks begging them to be smaller.

Standing on the edge of my toes willfully imagining that I am taller.

Folding my ears inwards commanding them to decrease in size.

Hysterically trying to find the beauty they said existed in my eyes.

Scrutinizing my nose using my hands to mould it into my desired shape.

Impatiently withdrawing my stomach to wo

Abuduction.Abduction.

Another convicted paedophile free to walk again.

Currently living by a primary school looking for some new prey to stalk again.

Masks himself as a confidant, someone that the children can call a friend.

Specialises in seducing and lulling its victims in to a false sense of security.

With an ulterior motive driven to defile and desecrate their innocence and purity.

How is this ungodly predator somehow able to evade all configurations of authority?

No one is capable of figuring out why this predator has these vile and vindictive thoughts.

No one can possibly understand how much torture and suffering his actions have brought.

The Super Hero DreamThe Super Hero Dream.

Since I was young I've always had this reoccurring dream.

As immature and juvenile at it may seem.

I'd have this one fantasy…

That me and my peers were apart of a heroic, super natural team.

We would serve and protect the world from impending doom.

But every morning I always end up waking up too soon.

I would stir and gaze around my marvel inspired room.

And attempt to…

Move objects with just will of my mind.

Completely alter my anatomical design.

Teleport in and out of realties and dimensions.

Communicate with anyone via a telepathic connection.

Have an invulnerable metal emerge from my knuckles.

SilenceSilence.

A language that everyone speaks.
       But one that we are not able to hear.

A place where emotions and abandonment meet.
       Of which we are forced to confront our buried fears.

There are no more lessons that the agents of society can teach.
       An infinite amount of words expressed through a solitary tear.

People dish out advice but never practise what they preach.
       A language with the same traits as a hopeful prayer.

A society where people judge others, as they sit back i

ArtArt.

Imagine...

The world is your canvas.

Society is your paint brush.

The people are your choice of colours.

What kind of picture would you paint?

How would it differ from the image that is currently on show?

Would you go mad and rid yourself from all forms of restraint?

Just how far down the rabbit hole are you willing to go?

I ask because every portrait I create,

Is inspired by what is already in front of me.

So is it possible to even recreate,

Anything that the mind is not able to see.

The picture will always be the same

Because this life is all we know.

Where there is compassion there must be pain

Because it us who made

The Connecticut Massacre.The Connecticut Massacre.

He was described as quiet, shy and socially awkward.
He was not the type to be loud, abrasive and forward.

He was highly intelligent and kept his thoughts to himself.
He didn't posses the tools to communicate with anyone else.

Whenever he spoke, his words felt forced and fake.
Who knew back then how many lives this man could take.

The realisation of his isolation was activated by the school premises.
He was never able to see his peers as friends but only as his nemeses.

But when he was home his alienation became none existent.
He was able to laugh and smile without any form of resistance.

The constant contrast

The Racial EquationThe Racial Equation.

We are all born from the same =.

÷ by colour, shade and tone.

X by the errors of the past.

Only +'s to the difficulty life today.

Kela lewis-morin

Vindictive Thoughts.Vindictive Thoughts.

Evil, is knowing better

But purposely doing worse.

Toying with love by the tether

And laughing when it hurts.

Prevailing by any measure

With no intention to reimburse.

Flaunting stolen fabricated treasures

Gaining what you never truly deserved.

To live a life of complete leisure

And never keeping to your words.

Manipulating and applying pressure

Be

HerstoryHer-story

I can't describe to you how much I love her.
I actually feel nauseous just at the thought of her even thinking of another.
In all my short life I never even thought I would ever discover.
A woman that I would be proud to name as my baby's mother.
I know that if I were to hypothetically loose everything, we would still have each other
And it is my chest only that she will caress under the cover.
Of course we are bound to argue and I will occasionally confront her.
Although I might not say it, I might even imagine her being someone else's lover.
And it's because of my insecurity and paranoia I end up making her suffer.
I'm j

Changing LanesChanging Lanes.

Change is continuous.

Adjusting may be strenuous.

Some directions will be tenuous.

Not everyone can afford to be generous.

Life may have forced them to become selfish and venomous.

All we have are memories and pictures to remind of what once was.

They're there to remind us of all the phases, the pain and the love th

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MoneyMoney

They say money talks
Yet they wonder why I'm silent.

They say money brings you happiness

Everlasting LoveEverlasting Love.

Two wrinkled hands intertwined with one another.
Their frail legs moving at a notably slow pace.
They always come in to the store every Sunday morning.
Buying their weekly packets of bird nuts and wild berries.
The elderly man always gives me a subtle wink whenever he sees me.
Comments on the amount of female partners I should be courting.
While the elderly women casts an innocent smile.
Ignoring her husbands repeated jokes and tugs him out the store.

The next week the elderly man is pushing his wife about the store.
His arms straining from the weight of the wheel chair.
He holds up two variations of bird berries

Taking Things To HeartTaking Things to Heart.

Have you ever had the same problem critics?
Telling you your faults, forcing you to admit it?
Analysing your work till the point you wish you never did it?

Then forming and basing judgements on their observations.
Criticisms are hard to accept regardless of the relation.
Your first natural instinct is to defend your work through conversation.

It's not that their criticisms are not valid.
Sometimes I just take it as their refusing my talent.
This causes me to feel less confident and slightly off balance.

I respect any opinion that anyone has to offer.
Sometimes I just take it as if I'm being told of by my mo

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Submitted: October 2, 2012
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Paranoia

by *KelaLewis-Morin, Oct 2, 2012, 3:50:12 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Urban & Spoken Word

Paranoia.

I don't want to be this way.

But I can't help but feel this way.

No matter what you do

Or what comforting words you say.

My over active mind will not allow me to believe it.

My weary blood shot eyes will not allow me to see it.

Even though my attentive heart is able to receive it.

My thoughts and my imagination will corrupt and deceive it.

And that's why no matter how much I love you.

For some reason I will always feel cheated.

So please don't blame yourself because you have done more than enough.

You have proven yourself and have provided me with so much love.

There are only so many false accusations you can take.

There are only so many false promises I can make.

There are only so many times I can make that same mistake.

Until I foolishly recognize what is actually at stake.

How long will you have to accommodate my insecurities?

How long will it take for me to completely trust you?

Until you begin questioning my emotional maturity.

There are only so many times I can say "I am sorry but I do love you".

Before the excuses cease to be effective.

Before I realize that it is me who must change my perspective.

Before you realize that you don't have to be subjected

To my distrustful, doubtful and disbelieving conditions.

And that you can find someone else who will love you, trust you and listen.

Then another compatible suitor will be in my position.

It would be my fault because I created my own competition.

I would have to live my life knowing that there is something missing.

The truth is I don't think I could go on living.

Kela Lewis-Morin

Paranoiaby *KelaLewis-Morin

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Urban & Spoken Word

They say the best forms of expressions resides in ones self. However on the other hand they say the best forms of writing are when the author detaches him or herself from that particular piece of work. I personally believe it must be a balance, sometimes what makes a piece of work more influential and relative is the fact that the writer was fully engaged with it. This is what I tried to do with this piece in hope that you readers out there can perhaps understand what I am trying to convey. This is based on true experiences and a realization that I myself have recently discovered. I wanted to use rhyme just so that it flows better but at the same time making sense if you get what I mean lol I hope this works and I hope you guys like

I write for you as well as for me. Let me know what you think.

love 1 1

joy 2 2

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~e-maginings Oct 23, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

i like the idea behind this! it's really relatable. i don't know why but every time i read what you write, i hear it as a rap in my head

it flows very nicely

~Dyoniysus Oct 17, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Loved it!

~hurrayalex Oct 6, 2012

I, as a paranoid, like it.

~thestaccatobutterfly Oct 5, 2012 Hobbyist

Hi.

The goal of #PennedPaper is to provide exposure to the under-appreciated writers of dA and to provide feedback on all works submitted to us. For this reason we do not accept deviations already found in six or more other group galleries at the time of submission to us. This is not an attack on the artist and has nothing to do with the quality of the deviation. For this reason, your work has been declined. For more information please read this news article [link]

You are welcome to submit other pieces found in less than six other group galleries to us.

Thank you,
thestaccatobutterfly -