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Lauren Gorger Oct 2014
What is it with this generation of lost souls? Do you ever just sit and think, where did we lose the part that made us whole?
Somewhere along the way, hating love and loving hate became the forefront of everything we say.

Somehow it became the generation of kids who probably won't realize they're adults until, one day, they look in the mirror and see that they're 45, still in the same pair of designer jeans and expensive shoes they could barely even afford. And the only reason they bought them was to post a picture on instagram just to get false sense of validation from people they barely even know.

We lost sight of the importance of being an advocate of self.
When we have money, that's our only weath.
What about wealth in mind, body, spirit?
This generation would rather snort lines for an out of body experience.
How sad.
The generation that will laugh watching others cry, just to fit in.
What, exactly, are you trying to fit into?
What is it really, that prevents you from being in-tune?
Why the moon isn't as interesting as that little corner of doom in a messy room, while you have no desire to bloom.

I want so badly for this generation to be better, together.
To treat one another like sister and brother -
It's time for everyone to blow their cover.
Take off the mask, they're no longer needed.
Be the future, because we are. Become what you want to be seeded.
It's okay to cry or to ask for help. Put your pride aside, go inside to find that real wealth.
I challenge you to be better.
Look yourself In the mirror and surrender.
I wish you love and peace through all of your endeavors.

Love.
- L.G.
carminayasmin Oct 2018
Mental health; mental wealth.
It’s riches you spend on your armour when in battles with demons,
to come out the other end bruised but not defeated.

The weath in within the gold mines in your head that the demons dig upon,
though still you find golden flakes on the surface of your palms.

That you spend your wealth on others, to save them from the debt you fear to suffer again. As you rust.

Wealth is the riches you still hold, when the demons strip you bankrupt.

you are rich, for you are still here.
October 10    23:25
Bless the mic, like Kwali, with the stings of bee, Ali
Set my mind free, brace the sanity, of life, broke a flee,
Off a dog, these wanna be hogs, love to keep ya mind, on jog,
I meditate, wisdom then some, hardly, still sip bacardi,
Or maybe, chase a tail grand Hennessy, black beanie,
Similar to G Deini, shrink haters tryna  stay above me,
Me and my girl, go together like suns to moons, consume,
By her perfume, natural scent, linked for the spiral embezzlement,
Souls touched, double dutch, break out like a Jordan Clutch,
Fadeaway, all the negativity, lift ya ****** off of gravity,
If ya try me, soldier born eyes in the storms, to stay ready,
Mind focus, sharp as a michete, peaceful but deadly,
Preach to these cats, not enough cheese for the rats,
Quick to pat you down, let off rounds, body kiss the ground,
How many gotta die, for us to be ratified, by justice that fried,
Innocent lives, still tryna find the honest hives, cried,
Many lonely nights, mocked the rain, like tears, streaming down,
The window pane, stuck at a loss, tryna focus on gains,
Refrain, from the haters still wear zoot suits,with a gator,
Fedora hats, looking in the mirror, at myself, likes who's that?
Gotta stay cool, don't let them see a break, a sweat fool,
I watch the mule, shake off of the evil jewels, know the rules,
Play it safe, ninety eight laws, of power, helped from being sour,
As I shower, drops,
Over ya head, half senile threads, on my thoughts that spread,
Miss the feds, they tried to blast, but I'm too fast, built for everlast,
Crash, dummies order of chaos, wrapped like a mummy,
Ensemble, something mindful, pass the dreadful, and hateful,
People taking too many spoonfuls, of lust, greed, and weath,
Dont ask me, why I blast back, I keep myself deep in stealths,
Mary Gay Kearns Apr 2018
Looking lovingly at a painting by Constable
With a slow moving stream in the foreground
And a man about to get into a boat,
Salisbury Cathedral in the background
Its magnificent spire rising to meet the sky.

In a hundred years will these monuments
To religion, power, weath still stand stately
Against the incoming tide of the new world
To transmit a meaning?
And if we be spiritual beings where can we fly?

Can we be welcomed, cared for, listened to
In a world lost in fiscal concerns, selfish, predatory.
And a chair to bear our burdens in the quietness
Of an afternoon light,
Carried by the sun through stainglass.

Or on a hillside be humbled by a simple cross
A clunp of earth filled with flowers.
Let us think why and what it is we need
So that those churches owned by power
Wealth and history become owned by us all.

Love Mary ***
Inspired by John Garbutt and his poems about Salisbury Cathedral.
Love Mary x
Mary Gay Kearns Mar 2018
Dry and dusty the old man lay
Had not moved a vessel for many a day
Slept below the moonlight stars
Thought of his weath and fading power
Drifting, drifting the old man saw
Far beyond the cliffs and golden shore
Had crossed the marker made for man
Slowly he felt the dying man's hand
Deeper, deeper into silent sleep
The water green, the water deep
And then from the ocean he heard a call
A voice rang out from distant shores
There in his softly swaying boat
Was lifted, feet first, by a riddled rope
Laid in comfort in a cabin bed
Fed and watered, bandaged head
Nearer and nearer the headland crept
Restored this dry and dusty vet
To this world again and whole .
Grateful he was this poor old soul.


Love Mary **
Hank Love Dec 2019
"Grumpy old man,"
The young man said.
"Indeed you are very wise!
Though your lines on your face
Have grown increasingly dark
And your hair incessantly white.

How ever did you manage
At such disadvantage
Do you think it is truly right?
For you to insist
While you still exist
To ever put up a fight?"

The old man scratched his head
As he rose up in bed
"I feared it might injure my health.
Tho Doctors continue
To care for me through
On account of all of my weath!"

"Grumpy old man,"
The young man said
"Again you are blind as a bat!
And yet you manage
To easily walk down the street
How ever can one explain that?"

"In my youth,"
The old man replied.
"Through every argument with my wife,
With every word that was said,
It became quite clear
For my life I held dear
I should keep eyes
In the back of my head!"
Andrea  Jul 2020
Neighbour
Andrea Jul 2020
Stop calling, stop calling me a nonbeliever
Just because I don’t carry an internal representation God
Forgive me, for goodness sakes
I don’t have the fever, it’s what I’ve told the reaper

Stop calling, stop calling me a nonbeliever
God is not my vending machine for health, weath and joy
Forgive me for goodness sakes
I manage my own emotions and what sleeps in my heart makes me braver

Stop calling! stop calling me non believer
Notice how quickly God vanishes with his creativity?
When a snowflake lands on your nose in winter
Stop calling me a non believer when I have respect for the divinity

No, I don’t talk with infinity and worship isn’t my priority
I think a mere instant is plenty enough
No, I don’t have the fever (of idolizing the creator)
Stop calling me, let’s meet.. I am your neighbour.
laiba  Jun 2019
War
laiba Jun 2019
War
The explosions started to happen Buildings started collapsing There were alarms ringing around I heard my teacher saying.... 'Get out Get out' As I went out I saw the red painted sky.. The soldiers with their guns aimed high The frightened people running like bees I could not understand what was happening I was just a five year old kid holding a teddy bear I was in shock and a lot of fear.. I saw blood and dead bodies around . Not a single living soul was found. I was in tears i started to cry... I shouted 'Mom and Dad' but no reply I knew one more bullet and my soul would fly. I started to run towards safety. Found a hut and stayed their many days.. Many thoughts came to my head each night.. I spent everynight with gun sounds and shrieks All alone in that hut was
me. Not having food for months I started to grow weak My eyes were red. My hair was dusky and brown. My skin looked flappy. My bones were promenant. That day I knew I was near to death. I started to question... Why we nations lost our humanity? Its just insanity. Killing ones people would sure give you more land . It would sure give you the wealth in your hand. But what about those who lost their everything .. What about those who did not do anything but still shedded blood. What about those children who are now deprived of education. You are living in weath. But what about their happiness and health. Your tiny action Led to mass destruction.............. You see as humans we are now no longer men But mad dogs hungry after our brothers blood. We no longer bother for others.. We just care for ourselves. We taught ourselves self centered . We taught ouselves to accumulate wealth. Instead of health. We lost our humanity.....we lost our humanity........... These were the last lines in my head... When the soldiers entered my hut and shot me... SURELY WE HAVE LOST OUR HUMANITY.... LETS JOIN HANDS FOR PEACE .... LETS JOIN HANDS FOR BROTHERHOOD... LETS JOIN HANDS TO BE UNITED...

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