WEEK TWELVE: EVICTION (7-3) vs TIMELESS (3-4) EVICTION WINS VIA NS

[Eviction]

A masterpiece depicting tragedy, I’ll hang it on my wall like a tapestry,
Turned agony into a parody, arrogantly lacking any required apathy.
It’s sad to see, black lights, reveal satin sheets stretched to capacity.
Depths of my insanity, a thick scent like mass graves after calamity.
Being alone by force of habit; an exit strategy when you’re lost in place.
So when you’re locked away you treat all company like toxic waste.
Social interactions render a catatonic state, anxiety is the common phrase.
No decorations for the holidays, unless you count rolls of caution tape.
These shockwaves create repellants like every path will show an L.
Bravery is how you expose yourself, so act cowardly before you go to hell.
I don’t mean to overwhelm, but this motel is worse than a holding cell…
AND I know it well, I thought visitors would be put off by the rodent smell.
I’m not content until opponents fail, their misery is a conversation piece.
A blue-collar wasteland, I can develop nausea if I watch it anxiously.
What phases me is the wasted dream and the constant stage of grief.
Often aim to please, it’s like choosing distress when I’m dodging pain relief.
I get treated like dirt by society, you wonder why I keep a cluttered house?
Like I should let these intruders run afoul while I stay hidden underground.
Because these days I consider it a home invasion when family comes around.
I always looked below the surface when my world is already upside down.
My body count will force a shutdown, they drop and create a dust cloud.
The dirt is my suboxone, cleanliness makes matters worse if I’m strung out.
I’m hiding from the sea of doubters’ a joke that’s heckled by this tough crowd,
Enough rat poison to dumbfound, somehow they stuck around like a bloodhound.
I recycled this schedule, a recurring pattern’ there was only a select few,
Of the entitled next to you, only one of them lifted a finger to rescue,
The others? let their dog get loose’ and lick open every fresh wound.
The saving grace is beneath hell, this cesspool gives me the headroom.
You’re that rich know it all, holding a briefcase because they gave you a million.
Me the cheapskate, a cheap date for “angels” that think that angles appealing
If there was an options menu, preferential treatment would have came to an ending.
My success? Label it pending, watching them fail helps me break through the ceiling.

[timeless]

I got wrapped up today. If i cant have til late tomorrow night(saturday) then idt ill show. Sorry but ill work on something now just in case its allowed

[NYCSPITZ]

Originally Posted by Eviction

A masterpiece depicting tragedy, I’ll hang it on my wall like a tapestry,
Turned agony into a parody, arrogantly lacking any required apathy.

This was a pretty ok verse, eviction. I know you’re sensitive but don’t get butthurt, I just want to help you become a better writer - case in point, this bar was nice until agony into parody, then you arrogantly…lacked apathy? This is why we think about writing our lines before we do a paper mache of words we find on rhymezone. Apathy does not fit here. Please tell me you understand why, or more likely complain why it “makes sense”, thus making you look dumber and even less relevant than you already have

It’s sad to see, black lights, reveal satin sheets stretched to capacity.
Depths of my insanity, a thick scent like mass graves after calamity.
Being alone by force of habit; an exit strategy when you’re lost in place.
So when you’re locked away you treat all company like toxic waste.
Social interactions render a catatonic state, anxiety is the common phrase.
No decorations for the holidays, unless you count rolls of caution tape.

This is good, there’s no slick slant rhymes so obviously you used rhymezone which is gay, but the caution tape line ties all of this together nicely.

These shockwaves create repellants like every path will show an L.
Bravery is how you expose yourself, so act cowardly before you go to hell.

wack

I don’t mean to overwhelm, but this motel is worse than a holding cell…
AND I know it well, I thought visitors would be put off by the rodent smell.
I’m not content until opponents fail, their misery is a conversation piece.
A blue-collar wasteland, I can develop nausea if I watch it anxiously.
What phases me is the wasted dream and the constant stage of grief.
Often aim to please, it’s like choosing distress when I’m dodging pain relief.

This is getting repetitious and wack. Show us something from the higher realm, it’s clear you as an individual connect more with the negative and morbid side of life but try to stretch your mind and get a bit more creative here.

I get treated like dirt by society, you wonder why I keep a cluttered house?
Like I should let these intruders run afoul while I stay hidden underground.
Because these days I consider it a home invasion when family comes around.
I always looked below the surface when my world is already upside down.
My body count will force a shutdown, they drop and create a dust cloud.

World is upside down is like the one ray of hope you had to flip the tonality of the verse, change the wavelength, switch imagery up, bring us into another reality but you continue with mundane bullshit and talk randomly about bodycounts which is random and wack whether you mean sex or homicides

The dirt is my suboxone, cleanliness makes matters worse if I’m strung out.
I’m hiding from the sea of doubters’ a joke that’s heckled by this tough crowd,
Enough rat poison to dumbfound, somehow they stuck around like a bloodhound.
I recycled this schedule, a recurring pattern’ there was only a select few,
Of the entitled next to you, only one of them lifted a finger to rescue,
The others? let their dog get loose’ and lick open every fresh wound.
The saving grace is beneath hell, this cesspool gives me the headroom.
You’re that rich know it all, holding a briefcase because they gave you a million.
Me the cheapskate, a cheap date for “angels” that think that angles appealing

Cheap date for angels…that think….that angel’s appealing??? Man get it together.

If there was an options menu, preferential treatment would have came to an ending.
My success? Label it pending, watching them fail helps me break through the ceiling.
Weak way to tie it together. If you actually wrote more coherently it could have been a nice bar

Overall I think Dia is overrated and everybody dickrides his verses too much. Don’t find much substance here and while the potential to be better is there, I just don’t sense any depth of soul, experience, character here. Bring more of that out and you’ll write better. this sounds like something average, lukewarm, sort of thoughtless, haphazardly tied together glib poem blob that just happens to rhyme. I know you’ll get mad at me but real keeps shit real.

Do better next time