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Jack Feb 2021
i miss the feeling
of me missing you.
From a hopeless romantic.
Jack Feb 2021
a swarm of birds flies by
following a cold breeze
under grey clouds
moving with ease

yet one is stuck
trapped in her broken feathers
wailing for help
under the stormy weather

she’s one of the kind
firm blue eyes,
softish features
luring me forward

should i keep her?
or let her soar again?

i don’t know
i didn’t think much then
i just released her
back to the sky

maybe i made a mistake
maybe we are meant to be
because all i can see
is that bird with blue eyes,
the one i have set free
gone at last.
Jack Feb 2021
ever since that night
everything's changed
lights shone too bright
familiar faces looked strange
thoughts were disturbed
my brain was unnerved

in essence,
I chose fear and paranoia
in replacement to a life that was
previously filled with colors
ever since the first one, the rest came in waves
Jack Jan 2021
my grandpa is 84 years old
well on his way
to the festival

i am...

jealous of the fun,
the thrills of a
new beginning
he'll have
without me

i'll miss him
he'll miss me too
i hope...
i mean...
he can't possibly
forget me
in the festival,
right?

because
as he puts it,
"what fun would that be
without you?"
to the person who raised me up, he's probably sleeping right now
Jack Jan 2021
never
overestimate your importance
because you're nothing...
because...
she'll do just as fine
with or without you.
Hope is what keeps us alive... it's also the thing that kills us.
Jack Jan 2021
mockingbirds hummed big city blues
the air’s heavy, filled with lost tunes
- empty lyrics from empty souls
night breezes gently blow away
distant dreams and distant hopes

the old familiar warning signs
of war resurfaces
mockingbirds flew away in murders
carrying away thousands of memories
soon to be lost and buried
scrambling and struggling
escaping the battle of centuries

the war has been fought
a rough defeat is announced

at last, evening sun collapsed in defeat
eclipse of dawn - the only reminder of war
it's final, it’s ending, it’s unsettling
black paint spilled over splashes of colour
train wreck to the artist's greatest pride
clouds intrude, shutting down blinking eyes
as the newly painted night sky
reminds the new mockingbirds
of distant memories, the battlefields and scars
the war fought without blood
as darkness prevails
and grasps its control back
announcing yet another victory
over yet another ghost town
Jack Jan 2021
sometimes
the most sensible and beautiful girls
will also end up
hurting you the most
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