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ali-1
Russian
my observant eyes stare out the window. the first lady drives past her shiny sports car red sports car matches her shiny red hair. she drives fast to show everyone haw daddy gets her love. under those sparkling glasses and blasting music lies a lost soul, a soul who was never shown the way. a tiny, quick smart car swerves next to us the driver looks nervous not sure if the sweat or the shaking gave it away. i spot an old lady with a walking stick the mourning her eyes feel makes mine water eyes tell an amazing story. yet they can be deceiving.
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Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 3:38 AM UTC
eyes tell more than a story
im angry. angry at society for making people afraid to be who they are, for making people feel inferior and unimportant. angry at the human race for having greed swimming through their ice cold veins, for having no regard for nature for only thinking of themselves. angry at my parents for not warning me about the dangers of this dark world. the dark alleys the walls caving in. but im angriest at myself for not paying attention when they told me. for letting things make me angry things cant make us angry unless we lwt them.
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Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 3:29 AM UTC
anger
i sit in the room and stare through the window i watch how the wind sings and the leaves play the melody the clothes on the line try hard to set free as they push back and forth trying to run free its to no avail. as a apple falls from the tree, he is now free and the branches sing in congratulation. the trees know they can never go far but have been there so long they began to realize its not their time and will never be. the grass sways and the brown leaves fly away, they are now free to go where the wind takes them. the grey dull rocks have the world on their shoulders with no way of getting away, their nights are cold and their hearts are empty. they have no way of going. they are stuck alone. forever. they starve to be free. freedom is what they search for. i am a rock. longing to be a leaf.
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Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
freedom
Red robot There's a beggar on my right He begs for something to eat We hand him a juicy, orange naartjie He thanks us as if we'd saved his life but he saved ours. I stared at him in amazement As the naartjie was peeled. He peeled it gently and softly almost as if he held a newborn baby smoothly and with a tenderness. The same touch as that from a mother. He taught me to be gentle. As we strolled up the road I spotted another beggar, polishing his shoes Shoes that have aged. As the cloth swayed smoothly from left to right he smiled, as if that was his only joy. Like the first laugh of a baby. The feeling that creates butterflies and fairies. He taught me how to be gentle.
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Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
lessons learned