Here are some poems I wrote.
Face Value

As I gaze into the mirror,
A face is gazing back at me.
My face is reflected back,
Yet it's not what others see.
I see a young girl who is
Frustrated, worn and mad,
At the same time, looks
Disappointed and a bit sad.
I see that young girl,
She’s out spoken and unique.
Yet so how looks like
She has just suffered a defeat.
Stubborn from being
Neglected and ignored,
Apathetic from being
Always alone and bored.
The look in her eyes
Was soft and caring,
Now her brow are knitted
And her eyes are glaring.
Looking at that mirror
What others chose not to see
Now become locked away
Deep inside the real me.


Worship and Obey

You call this place your church,
And here you sit and pray.
Faithfully you pay homage to your gods,
And like any religion,
You stone the false prophets.
If this place is a church,
Then I must be your saint.
For I embody the ideals of your religion,
Yet this being a religion,
And you its faithful followers,
Make an interesting contradiction,
And I its saint am a hypocrite.
This newfound glory was founded on indifidulity,
And for you following is a sin.
This gospel that is screamed,
Weekly into deaf ears.
It spreads the idea of faith in lack of faith.
And your golden gods do confess,
They are but mere mortals, and
Would rather not be praised.
Your Preaches preach,
That one should do avoid doing just that.
Your teachers and judges teach,
That one should never judge.
Your denominations defeat your purpose
Of your crusade against labeling.
Being a member of this religion,
You have labeled yourselves.
Your rules and regulations state,
That rules are made to be broken.
And, I your saintly saint,
Am not really saintly at all.
I’m not immaculate, virginal, and pure,
I chose to b cheap and dirty.
I am not blessed and obedient.
I chose to sin and defy society.
Being wholesome is boring,
Being loathsome is fun.
There for I am not a saint,
But rather the anti-Christ.
And you are not the sheep of God,
Sheep can be led blindly into the slaughterhouse.
And the whom you adore and praise,
Are not goads for we love them for Being real.
And these are not prayers we sing,
For they lead us no to our lord,
But to ourselves.
So let us not be called a religion,
For we are the anti-religion,
Founded on our hate of all things clean and structured.
And let us not be called followers,
For we despise sheep and conformity.
And let this not be our faith,
For we only have faith in ourselves.
And let us not call them gods,
For they cannot be mass marketed,
And ours will no be sold,
Our idols can’t be purchased.
With that said let us unite inside
Our anti-church to wade humanity.
We will adorn ourselves with individuality.
And worship no one.