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Rupert Pip Sep 2019
I thought I found it:
The answer to being human.
It came in a little heart-shaped box.
It told me to work hard and achieve my goals.
It told me to find people that love me,
and love them too.
It told me to get my head down early
and eat a colourful plate.
With all these boxes ticked,
I found glory in a greater life.
But still I found myself hurting.
I found brittle bones breaking.
I saw people bleed and break.
This, I found, is called being human.
To that, there is no cure.
But to treat life with a healthy smile,
and live out your days bringing smiles to others.
Now that, is being the most human of all.
Being human.
Rupert Pip Aug 2019
While you laid and begged the world to change your life, I walked with two broken legs to change mine.
Only you can change your life.

(And yes, I still write poetry)
Rupert Pip Jun 2019
Can I just sit here and dissolve
as a servant of life’s sour taste?
Absord the aches, the pains, the cold
and shiver as I wither away?
Rupert Pip Jun 2019
For years I sat
watching four
disdain filled walls
close in on me
and grasp my lungs;
splintering the life
out of my body
with every perilous
second that passed.
-
It took my organs
to fail, and silence
the screaming engine
inside my chest
to begin to ponder
what it could possibly
be like to live,
rather than just
exist.
-
Walls came crashing down;
brick by miserable
******* brick.
My skin shone a
luminescent shade
as light christened
my being.
My bones ached
with a sudden yearning
to feel.
-
It was only
with one small
step did that sinister
song play it’s final note
and the whispering winds
of change
called out my name
in blissful rejoice.
-
My feet crashed
against the broken concrete
as I left the
past behind
and with that moment,
I could finally
breathe.
Break free.
Rupert Pip Jun 2019
Like fallen leaves we stay
dark and dancing upon the ground.
Stepped over; ignored.
A memory of natural creation.
A ghost of days gone by.

Once a burst of human creativity,
a glimpse of perpetual love and emotion now just an adverse memory
playing on a loop
with no hope of recreation
again and again and again.

Like fallen leaves we stay
decaying into the mists of time
picked up and dropped
Once beautiful.
Once alive.
Relationships come to an end and it’s nothing unordinary to reminisce on what it was before it finished; this poem is that thought process in action.

Written in 2014.
Still my Dad’s favorite poem of mine.
Rupert Pip Jun 2019
I’d love to sit and talk
to you about the world,
the moon and the stars
but you’re as far
away from me as
I am from them.
Distance.
Rupert Pip Jun 2019
People are always going to shout
louder than you.
So quietly sing a peaceful song
and those who care to listen
will sing along too.
Enjoying life on your own terms.
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