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I have no idea how long,
I’ve stared at this blank page.
Only the following words will know,
An incremental of some measured time.
A twilight of an idea,
Poised in the head,
Just below the visible horizon.

Many navigators have been here before me,
I'm armed with neither compass nor sextant.
Adrift,
I'm  looking at the texture of the paper,
For direction.
And doodle  boxed rectangles,
To fill the gap until some lifeboat saves me.
Sixteen's glow
now the river's flow
I love to swim

tepid and soft
she holds me aloft
I float on moonbeam.

Love to hold close
snuggle my nose
between her *******

they aren't as high
but I mustn't lie
found no better rests.

No way I would hide
if not by my side
life feels a dull stuff

the unwritten rule
is she makes me full
so I'm never half.

By a simple glance
in a million one chance
we happened to meet

love I wouldn't call
not to make small
this undying habit.
Ideologies
Plague the heart of hearts
I'm afraid we've been
Taken advantage of
Blind sided
Somewhat deceived
From the very start
From Jesus to romanticism
Love is larger than life
Surely there can only be
Magic in bed with
Ones own wife
And no other pleasure shall
A mortal dare embrace
For-bitten fires that burn
Out of their place
What then?
The cave compels
Shall we retreat
Into our own hell's
Or redirect
Our piece of mind
From ideologies
That keep us blind
.......
Traveler Tim
Tired and happy
Expressions on their faces
When parents first hold their babies
Clad in hospital dresses

But in the same hospital there is another
A couple, fighting, hours after
How are we going to feed her
With the rest of our children?

At the back of the same building
In the shadows at night
Is a mother leaving
Her child behind

Fast forward, 10 years later
A boy who only wears long sleeves in the summer
He does this to hide all his bruises
Given to him by his father

In 5 more years
A girl who spends all her time outside and away
So she doesn’t have to face her parents
Who are intoxicated, violent – drunk all day

10 years more
He continues to wear his sleeves long
Because even though the marks on his arms have faded away
The scars in his heart, forever remain

Another 5 years
She now has 2 children from “sleeping around”
Who she’s too busy to look after;
She can barely look after herself

What will happen in another decade?
The boy, now man
Will he treat his children the same way?

The girl, now woman
Will she return home inebriated
Day after day?

I’m not saying that these outcomes are final
But it often happens since children learn by example
They may do the same as their parents
And end up hurting other people

So before you have children please remember
The profound impact you can have on another
I implore, do not forget
The courage to raise a child, before it ends in pain and regret

~

Like fingerprints on glass
Damage done
To what extent
Is a question unasked

Some hands leave marks
Others mar
And also cracks
That rip through the glass

The worst of all
Are those who shatter
The delicate material
Into a thousand pieces

Oh how I wonder
The damage inflicted
How broken a person’s glass is
A telling indication
Part 2. This time about how parents can inflict grievous physical and mental harm to their children that can have lasting impact.

The use of glass as a metaphor for children is inspired by a quote found in a book: The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom. See below.

“All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.”
 Jul 2017 Blessed Regalia
nivek
its a common place
where
lots of folk think they hold a backstage pass
to your life.
it comes as a shock for them to realise
they really do not.
that their opinion means nothing to you,
and you politely dismiss their intrusion,
and carry on.
What if, i didn't find my calling?
Do you love me the way i am?

Neither very attractive,
Nor hardworking.
Neither a sportsman,
Nor a marksman.
Neither an engineer,
Nor a doctor.
Neither a poet,
Nor an artist.
Neither a boon,
Nor a bane.

Do you love me the way i am?

My grades are not upto the mark,
Yet i could be much more than you could ask!

People call me vain,
Passions none to name.

May not fulfill dreams cherished by you,
May not walk on the path shown by you!

Do you love me the way i am?

All what my peers have is better than mine!
For me, unconditional love is just fine!

Oh my dear parents!
Am i not worthy?

Maybe someday I'll find my calling!
Till then, please love me the way i am?
This write is inspired by a teenager, who is under pressure to perform better. Parents try to impose their aspirations on their children...but the child has something else in mind...all five fingers are not equal.. let's learn to accept them the way they are...a person good for nothing, excelling in nothing does have a right to be happy..should not be condemned...
 Jul 2017 Blessed Regalia
Born
Does it hurt?
What?
Dying

Does it hurt
What?
Writing

Does it hurt
What?
Memories

Does it hurt
What?
Running

Does it hurt
What?
Lying

Does it hurt
What?
Numbing

Does it hurt
What?
Crying

Does it hurt
What?
Silence

Did it hurt
What?
Loving
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