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  Aug 2023 Nylee
Druzzayne Rika
The world is ours, they say,
But we don't own a thing.
We take what we want,
and possess no wit,
And then we move on,
Leaving nothing behind,
Nothing for any other being.

We are the generation of renters,
Not owners.
We don't care about possessions,
Only experiences.
We are always looking for the next new thing,
Never satisfied with what we have
Right in our hands.

We are the generation of disposables,
Not heirlooms.
Plastic is permanence,
It is towering our lives,
We throw things away when they break,
Not trying to fix them.
No time for reparation, just consumption
We don't value things that last,
Only things that are new and shiny.

We are the generation of entitlement,
Not responsibility.
We think we deserve everything,
Without having to work for it.
We don't understand the concept of ownership,
Only of taking and asking.

We are the generation of the future,
But we are lost.
We don't know what it means to be responsible,
Or to care for something at all.
We are the generation that will inherit the world,
But we will lose it
In a blink of the see the kingdom setting down.
  Aug 2023 Nylee
Exosphere
there was love
as it were
as much as was available
which sometimes wasn’t much
but a man in a desert can rejoice over a teaspoon of water
  Aug 2023 Nylee
Pagan Paul
.
I lay down on a bed of petals
I lay down on the flowers scent
I lay down on a bed of petals
I saw my Spirit and where it went

I lay down on a mossy carpet
I lay down on the forest floor
I lay down on a mossy carpet
I feel my Spirit was here before

I lay down on an icy glacier
I lay down on the frozen ground
I lay down on an icy glacier
I know my Spirit can be found.

Pagan Paul (25/09/22)
Thought I'd write a song for vocal harmony's, this was written last September and a friend has picked it up for her group to sing. I wasn't going to post it ever, but what the hell!
  Aug 2023 Nylee
Satsih Verma
Unmasking to remain
human. Listen, listen to my bane.
I am neither living, nor dead.

I am left with what I am not.
after you walked away with Agni.
My footfalls resound in water.

I am taking care of
lovebirds. They miss you when calls
don't come and food runs short.
  Aug 2023 Nylee
Shofi Ahmed
When I pick up my pen
        She comes first.
When I land on the dust
         I am a stranger!
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