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clare
clare
Indian There was a Yesterday, there is a Today, and there will be a Tomorrow. What holds these strings together are our thoughts, and for me, these thoughts become poetry. Never too open, nor too closed for anyone, but welcoming all to ruminate.
I sometimes catch me thinking Of days that were full of fire I was, maybe, alone - not lonely In sleepless nights of desires I remember when words flowed free And I proudly signed my poems They were brazen, brave or broken Some fears unknown and known I found someone to anchor An alien feeling seeped Sunshine and meadows aside I finally found some sleep Content in my new comfort I wrote my judgements raw Till they ripped the bandaid off Exposed my secret flaws No longer a closet poet They read every truth I wrote Should I be ashamed, I don't know But I stopped then for us both Years have gone by living And I have no memories to keep Living at a prolonged ellipsis I have lost a bit of me I cannot be true to myself So I cannot bear to write Some day I will find courage Tell me, do I have the fight?
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Nov 12, 2023
Nov 12, 2023 at 9:55 AM UTC
Lost a bit of me
Today, They create their own truths Where peace is possible Through weapons and wars And sacrifices of the young... You take pride in it. They promise a better life Is in cities and highrises The price of which is future And half your lives... You join the line in silence. They pick on the weak With no paper proof To show that they belong And must to be heard too... You fail to hear them. They make you believe You belong to a country That is in dire need So you ought to pay the fees... You rush to fill those pockets. Tomorrow, You will be the Other No name, nowhere to hide They will put you as the price So that the rest may live by They will tighten your noose... And the world will watch.
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Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 6:58 AM UTC
Today, Tomorrow
What happens when we talk? I know what you want to hear And I know what you want not There comes a slippery slope Words go down the drain They evade any meaning Yet, they sound the same... My dearest, when we talk To you, I open my heart There's love, hope and joy That every soul has sought But these words, my lifelong bane They evade any meaning Yet, they sound the same... Hear me, when we talk My silences are wrought To say much in less than thought How our lives seem so choked With words that play their game They evade any meaning Yet, they sound the same.
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Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 12:31 PM UTC
What happens when we talk
Behold the give-up generation That's out of land to run Fearing mental castration Out comes the rusted guns, Get off the cursed confessional The needle is now spun Having no stake, no possession, The hunted now shall hunt
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 3:46 AM UTC
The give-up generation
Been cut so clean With words so sharp Hanging in there Bare threads of life No where to turn No where to run The deals once done But now just begun What have you been fighting for...?
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Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 3:43 PM UTC
Untitled
When did we grow too old? Our souls and dreams now sold Too old to laugh and smile To go the extra mile Too old to say 'Need a hug' To share the tales of hurt... When did we grow so old Nothing ever shocks anymore The deaths the births unplanned Basic rights being banned All pass by, we shrug No question, no if, no but... Tell me, when did we grow so old That tears and cries became cold From doers, we are now undone Dreams like a drowning sun Will there be another dawn For our spirit to be reborn...?
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Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC
Waiting for another dawn
The gunman is a friend. He was born in this street He played in our arms We saw him bawl and grow Feel the pain of being alive We turned our heads on time To ignore the early signs "Oye boy! Get outta here." Let him live in fear He's a problem, not mine. He'll do just fine. If not, we can always say The gunman is no friend, Just another headline.
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Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 3:41 PM UTC
Our friend, the Gunman
We tripped on our words My Lord, they can hurt Why go the same road For life we abhorred We've done some wrongs Over bars and bongs Let's skip the routine Of counting the falls Go all the way off Than be half and half. The wounds are too deep Our path too steep Let's find a little shade and nurse the scars Let's give and take Of what we make No heaven, no hell For us to wait We live through others In names and tongues My love, you and I Till we're undone.
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Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 3:58 AM UTC
till we're undone
There is no meaning Spare the language Books and notes Don't  matter anymore No reason why We do what we do Nothing to fight for... They decide who we are Who we ought to be While they smirk We forget smiles A hollow mind A hollow soul A hole drilled through the heart God-sent ... We are left sprinting weekend to weekend
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Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
what we do
My Lord, My Lord You never said give to you But in your name I Claim. My Lord, My Lord You ever loved me more But I took you to the cross. My Lord, My Lord You promised forgiveness But I condemned all others. My Lord, My Lord I knock on your doors Why have you forsaken me?
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Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 1:37 PM UTC
My Lord, My Lord