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In the silent voice of a mother
While her son is beaten black and blue
In the smiles of a friend
While they wish for death so true

There be monsters anywhere
To combat or to succumb
In raging winds, in a quiet house
Monsters roam within and without

There may be monsters in the dark,
But scarier are those found in the mind
As not all darkness leave its mark
And not all thoughts are left inside
I am more than the sum of my pain
More than the lessons of my mistakes
I am an amalgamations of inspirations both within and without
An unbroken Theseus ship, all parts replaced, yet a whole nonetheless

Songs on my playlist carries echoes of my friends
A recommendation where every time I play them, I remember
I remember that once we crossed paths and you left a piece of yours behind
Now it's mine truly, and I thank you for providing such things of wonder

I am a reader first and foremost, a definition of what I am
Stories have molded me, each page a speck of my soul
From religious texts, to novels, and literary pieces alike
The words have become my sustenance, as we become what we consume

To those strangers in foreign lands that I may never meet again
Their perspectives offer much wisdom to this frog in the well
Shocked by new cultures and beliefs, my horizons were expanded
I believe I've went home a little wiser from those excursions in faraway places

I admit, not all of them are beautiful, some pieces ****
Parts undesired, but parts that stuck
Lessons paid with a hard price, some twisting my self
I am still grateful they are a part of me, in my unbroken Theseus ship
“I am not sure that I exist, actually. I am all the writers that I have read, all the people that I have met, all the women that I have loved; all the cities I have visited.”
― Jorge Luis Borges
Someone sits on their throne of lines
Sipping coffee like the finest of wines
Holding a scepter of buttons and wires
In here lies the digital sire

Building kingdoms overnight
With an army of black and white
Grouped in ranks, no symbol askew
Shown to many, known by few

Hello world, here sits royalty
Creator of heavens, destroyer of destiny
Fighting demons line by line
Crushing bugs, reality he redefine

Looking inwards he saw something new
Something undesired, and then he knew
To comment out a few bad habits, and start anew
Change for the sake of himself, as much as for you
Hair like waves of the sea
Raging then, but now the calm has prevailed
The sweetest thing ever that I've known of
A smile that could make storms go away

Confidence found in such a short stature
A professional of formidable intellect
My inspiration to better my career
A huge motivation for my personal goals

Solitude we both prefer, but then again I don't want to be alone
I want to be with you someday
Stay in touch, but now I'll let you be
I want to know you better, and be a pillar you can rely on

Please don't be burdened by my affection
Just do your thing, and we'll see how this goes
You are free to do what you want
Just know I will appreciate any care you throw my way

I'll not let things be for granted anymore
I will shoot my shot, even if I am more likely to miss
You are precious to me
You are one of the reasons I wake day to day

I'm new to this, so I'm sorry if you find me lacking sometimes
I only know how to care, I am unsure how to love
Thrice, I wrote a love letter. Once in elementary, once in highschool, and once in college.

All were met with rejection.

Many years since then, and now this is the fourth one.
I'm afraid to send this. Even when I'm a bit more mature now, a broken heart is still a broken heart.

I'm such a hopeless romantic. Still, writing is where I express myself the best.

Update: Life's good without drama, so I'm just going to shelf this until the right time.
I often wonder how my walk would be in another's shoes.
Would it be smoother, faster, and with the path clearly laid?
Or would it be like walking in eggshells, or a tightrope perhaps?
Crossing mountains of daggers with my tattered footwear.

Would I be burning bridges after I traverse them?
Or walking a plank to a dastardly end?
Would I be walking the talk, as I speak dreams of wonder?
A walk with thousands following my footsteps.

Would I get lost in my walks to memory lane?
Dwelling on the thought of trekking the paths less travelled.
Is it a walk where I hold someone's hand, as theirs hold mine?
Or a bitter cold one where my feet gets frostbitten?

I wonder and keep wondering these walks of life.
That I only noticed, there's only a few steps in mine.
The path is not clearly laid, but I know my direction.
The goal is in the horizon, but I really must take a step.

So I gathered my musings and put them in my pocket.
And I... walk.
I'm in a four year college course, and I've basically finished all my subjects... except for one. My thesis.

It has really been a difficult journey for me to finish it, still is a difficult one. I've barely started on it, and it seems that I'm self sabotaging myself to not graduate.

I only recently found the motivation and will to finish it, and I hope it will stay there.
She's going away to another journey now
I hope it will be a bit smoother than our current one
I'm sure there will still be hurdles and mountains
Ones she will climb with glee

She'll pass them and come back a little tougher
I just won't be there to witness the heights she'll reach
I'll be climbing my own mountains then
And I can't support her in times of need

Then again, she doesn't need my help in the first place
Though I sometimes wish I could still give it
She's small but she has a giant soul
One capable of devouring dragons

She cares for me not, and it's fine
A story as old as my life
Caring for someone doesn't need a return
A smile in my face to help the people I care about

A martyr maybe, but why do you care
This time a pushover, that I am aware
I don't want any trouble and drama
I just want her to smile and to last in memory
A poem before bed to help me sleep. Will probably polish it in the nearby future, but for now, I present to you this flawed piece.

created: December 6, 2023
last revised: December 10, 2023



A coworker is leaving, and I am sad.
For as long as I remember, I've made poems to rhyme
They were a restriction, as well as a direction
To lead me on the lyrical path and make me learn
And it did lead me to a point, that of no return.

I've realized they've become chains
A habit to beat, a skill honed well
Too heavy to cast away, too useful to break
Here I thought it was the icing on the cake

A-A-B-B, A-B-A-B
Nothing rhymes, I'll add another word, maybe
Restructure my sentences, into pieces they fractured
From fractured pieces, my sentences restructured

I could be more, and my works can also be
More than what they sound at the end
I just have to be aware that there's a time to rhyme
And there's a time to make a poem
Thank you Nat Lipstadt for your comment. It is a helpful awakening. I have been forcing some of my poems to rhyme. I shouldn't. I should let it flow naturally. There's a lot of literary tools out there other than rhymes.
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