Dear Society,
You have created...

A state of mind
Say you love someone,
But show no actions.
Say you Want to be successful,
But sleeping is enjoyable and work is a dissatisfaction.

A state of mind
Where people are powerful in the physical,
But are puny mentally.
Where Parents don't want their kids to follow their path,
Yet their actions make them watch their kids pay the same penalty.

We can still change and create...

A state of mind
Where we don't find problems,
But we create solutions.
Where is laziness is not an option,
Because winning is the only resolution.

A state of mind
That stands strong in trouble,
By conforming the body to its will.
That helps people in time of need,
And refuses to lead them downhill.

A state of mind
That loves to give to others.
One that hates to damage and pollute.
A society that is truly genuine,
And only speaks the truth.

Sincerely,
A youth concerned about his generation

I love when it's cold outside
And you can't tell where the cigarette smoke ends
And your breath begins

We're all so ******* toxic

I've filled the hole you left with empty kisses from boys whose lips taste like ash trays and whose bodies aren't yours but fill the space you left in my bed anyway

I've filled it with smoke as I sat on the edge of a bathtub, bowl in hand listening to a stranger talk about how he still calls his dead mother by mistake sometimes

I've filled it with recipes of sleeping pills swallowed down with cough syrup and ***** and chased with a flat Diet Coke I might've opened last week

The you shaped hole in my chest just gets bigger

As time goes on I am starting to learn how everyone has someone they love but just can't be with
It is the sad reality of stumbling blocks ruining what could have been, the imagined perception expectation of the future that we let ourselves believed we deserved to live
I often imagine meeting you at the record store in another life and it working out the way it was always supposed to and you've been holding my heart for centuries and though here, we may be foolish and alone but this is just one time dimension where maybe things are difficult but I will see you in the approaching vigor, in the dim light of a motel room near the city, a place where things are better, a place where we are better and I will kiss you like a poet trying to rewrite the language of love on your lips and you will touch me like your hands are praying to the religion beneath my skin and we will burn with love beyond what any movie or book describes
But here, I cannot love you and you cannot love me. Here and now we are poison to one another, a disease not worth catching if it can be avoided, our bodies were never strong enough for our love, we didn't want it anymore, we got too busy, too stressed out
You wasted my time but that’s okay I wasted yours right back, we were never in love but oh God we could've been, you know, as time goes on I am starting to learn how everyone has someone they love but just can't be with and regrettably, you are my someone

I've only got one bar
on my phone and there's only
one more between here and home.
Ten dollars in my pocket may as well
be a thousand. Like a penny
in the fusebox, I could make it last
until the lights go out. There's a cowboy
band playing. A wooden Indian
by the door. I don't think he listens
to their stories anymore. He's quiet
on the subject. He's quite an object
of curiosity. Instead of two-stepping
all night long, maybe I should take
that Indian home. Use the last bar
to call Coleen. Tell her to put a ***
of cowboy coffee on. We'll tell stories
of our own. Sing songs in the old way
about better days when we were young.

which loss of  dream compares a root canal to the anguish of losing a tooth, which tooth can not be drilled out and repaired, which bite was the one that chipped off a piece of my work and swallowed it to never be seen,
which cavity will be forever empty now,
which pain is worse,
the constant ache of a rotting tooth
or my loss of faith in humanity?

I don't know who to consult,
the Orthodontist or Psychologist.

~~
my world, my womb
unconditioned but air conditioned
too many frequencies make fusions
many more intuitions gathered a lot intentions
grew great confusions

my womb, my world
the ultimate heaven that proven the sense of love
that belongs spring that sprung
my mother's face
that certainly traced a weird tune which grew red rashes,
scratches on my mother lower abdomen  

I'm just eight months old
and my skin getting cold,
Even I could not told to my mother what I gather in the womb  
If I make the images zoom and
if somehow her rose will bloom
which only gain,
a huge pain that could not share or even bare
the world that never care
to my mother

where there is my womb, my world
and I'm only eight months old,
getting cold,
too cold...
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen