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Shimwa Augusta Apr 2018
Face; an empty expression it carries
Emotions; a few share, a few care, a fewer handle
Heart; barely knows itself, ever drowning  in insecurities.
Life; lacking direction
Friends; limited by none other than myself, yet, their reaching out is short
Myself; exhausted
The World; false, ever changing, frustrating, ungrateful

In the end, what am I worth?
Jesus's answer: my pain, my death,
God's answer: much more than gold, much more than the world itself.
There's so many reasons.to feel inferior for we fall for the perspective we've got on ourselves but the Good News is that from God's perspective, we're not broken and burnt.No, we're just broken and soon to be fixed 'cause He sees something in us that's worthy to be saved.
Shimwa Augusta Apr 2018
TV screens, social media,
All  anaesthesia
Just a regular dose of it we swallow
To keep us surviving
the reality that this world us a crumbling mess,
An empty hole, a worthless gem
A beautiful box that only offers lies and mistrust.

Popularity, celebrity
Everybody's searchin' for some worth, some place to fit in
Somewhere to stick their name in the hall of fame.
But take it's all anaesthesia, for it doesn't add or subtract a pound on the scale.

The hottest stars, the hottest gossip,
Father look what hypnosis,your kids are drinking.
Falling for the fake but sweet illusions and fantasies
Where time is turned to static and makes them forget of the long road ahead still to be taken.

Father look what anaesthesia your kids are taking in...
And sadly, it's strong can't let the truth through the door
Yet, we all know the blind can only run.into a trap if they ignore the voice warning in the background.

Father I wish you could open their eyes before the anaesthesia kills their sight...
For eternity
Anaesthesia is all around just ask God for the vision before it goes too far.
It exists in so many ways,
But in the end, it's still  there and still dangerous so what do we choose, ignorance or prevention.
Shimwa Augusta Mar 2018
I wish i wasn't so addicted
to your shiny face,
to your  black and white words
to your pages of everything
to your intelligence
to  your anesthesia
to your distraction

I wish I wasn't so addicted
to you technology......
and all your little colleagues.
Shimwa Augusta Mar 2018
They told me to speak
I told them I couldn't
and so I wrote.

They told me to scream louder
I told them I wouldn't
I'd rather let my words cut deeper.

They told me I wouldn't fit in
I told them it was fine.
Cause I preferred keeping it real

They asked me about language
I told them I spoke only one:
Art
At times muteness isn't just biological but unlike the real disease this one has an actual medicine: poetry, art
Shimwa Augusta Mar 2018
All
It all goes down in the end.
We all end up believing in falsity
While honesty is tied in chains by the big blackened world.

It all comes back in the end
The illusions of a perfect life we've created
get erased in the night where we can't escape reality.

It all turns away in the end;
We live to leave a legacy
but what about generosity in the story
Shimwa Augusta Mar 2018
Moi
I'm no celebrity,
I wasn't born for popularity,
I'm just an originality
Stickin' to my personality,
Even in adversity
What about you?
Answer?

— The End —