They need not dangle dreams on a silver thread,
Just close enough to turn their head.
A golden prize, a whispered vow,
The carrot hangs bright and bold,
Will remain a treasure they will hold.
But they do not know that I am too smart to crave it,
So that they can watch me strain, while they enjoy it.
I will walk a path they will never know,
Where truth, strength and kindness grows.
That sick twisted game,
Will be left behind, while they have no shame.
anonymousOther August 16, 2025 at 4:16 pm01
It took me 15 minutes of anger to come up with that poem. Creative outlet. Susan 12 hours ago
Some have choice words,
while I belt out a poem when in rage. Susan 12 hours ago
Chatgpt anonymous 8 hours ago
ha ha...I will be honest, this is 70 percent my words and 30 percent AI help. I am not going to lie. When I was little, there was no AI. I used to write them on my own. I actually took many graded courses in American Literature. Susan 8 hours ago
4 Rant Comments
Susan 12 hours ago
while I belt out a poem when in rage.
Susan 12 hours ago
anonymous 8 hours ago
Susan 8 hours ago