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I am so very broke, I can’t afford to pay it thought.
Fettered in a cage by poverty, left only to pray and rot.
The feathers of my soul have been tarred and stained by life.
So much so, I'm not sure if they'll ever again shine bright.
This Bird in my heart used to sing for my hopes and dreams;
Mourning every tragedy with requiems that gleamed.
A little Canary to be all mine until the very end of time,
Staving off this cold world and reminding me I'm fine.

This poverty starved her slow and deep, down to the very core.
Melodies that once remedied despair gone forevermore.
Nowadays, all I can ever do is reminisce about that yellow bird;
How she'd bring warmth to my life's cold hell of a blur.
The way our voices would harmonize on little notes;
Prophecies of a better future foretold from our nook.
That's why I still cling to the distant sound of their words,
Because they ramble on in me until nothing seems absurd.
I like to think she still sings sometimes, though no sound is heard.
That music of hope rings in my mind still, all thanks to Bird.
Deepali Agarwal May 2019
Limitations of a human are still neglected,
Claiming that everything is possible.
Someone said,
Impossible is I'm possible.
If so, why not jump off a thousand metre cliff.

The saying is a virus,
Inciting young minds to dream the unachievable.
After all as goes by the saying,
Hard work is rewarding,
But then failures strike,
Dismay creeps in.
It is easy to blame not accepting that they are to be blamed.

Keep trying is another lie,
Since there is no time.
Life is short, dreams are more.
Life won't always give the best.

But there are men who have achieved much,
Not driven by ideal pursuits.
Respecting self is rare trait.
We all aspire to become someone great in life but we need to accept that not everyone can be great. But can't we try to be great on individual level. We cannot do everything, because of our physical or mental limitations, and it is not bad to accept that one doesnot have a trait that one wants. After all it will save one from the consequences of hopelessness and depression after failure.

I don't mean to say that don't be ambitious or don't try for things that you currently don't think are possible for you, but at least before giving a try why not know what it is, will I be able to keep up my sincerity to achieve it.

We should know what our true self is then only we can get success in life.


Just a request. If you could read my novel and leave your honest comments, it would be a great help. I have just started writing it. Genre : romance

Here's the link : https://my.w.tt/ssmTtLU03W
Pat Villaceran May 2019
I knew I picked
this day to rest
For a part of it is true

Someday we'd all be
Something grand, someone
they'd rally to

It'll be a part of memory
a clip to look back to

I'd say, "Oh, how
we used to be so bland,
but hopelessly hopeful"

Then, smirking, I added,
With no doubt and remorse

"T'was because we knew
this day would come as NOW
when we hoped this as tomorrow."
Maggie evans Apr 2019
WE ARE...

We are all puzzle pieces born from different souls,
Those that have taken a lifetime to find the missing pieces to make them whole.

We are all shipwrecks re built from board to bough to set sail again under silken sails to discover our true destination beyond watery horizons.

We are all bleeding hearts, beating in vein of a higher calling.
To unite together to rediscover hope through love.

We are all mountains, it's a merciless climb to the summit but well worth the journey to admire the views of tomorrow.

We are all one decision away from a beautiful life.
One choice away from a different destination.

We are one river away from the tides of change.
Oceans apart, from small ripples that grew.
That all started with you.

We are one betrayal away from a new trust of opinion.
To build our wisdoms without lies of deciept, but bare honesty openly as vunerabilty of our souls.

We are but one painting away from our legacy,
make your picture memorable, as a journal you kept in childhood years.
Painted with excitement from sleepy eyed dreams.

Were are all one feather apart from a new journey poised with direction,
soaring on a winged bird as free as the open skies, we are freed.

We are all one season away from storms of the night, blown in winds of change.
Like the last fallen leaf in fall, we will regrow reborn in spring.

We are all one soul away from an outstretched hand to hold, be it young or old to guide us.
To grip fingerprints as unique as us all.
To help us unite on intimate grasps.

We are all one story away from a different ending,
How you choose to write the next chapter.
Be it in pencil or ink soaked emotions what colour is up to you.


We are all puzzle pieces born from different souls,
Those that have taken a lifetime to find the missing pieces to make us whole.

Maggie Evans
Keep going guys there is always strength to be had from a different view
allison Feb 2019
writing is my escape
from the cell i created
for myself
Eleni Feb 2019
Bohemian runs to her castle
Full of flowers, sticks and stones
and tassels.

Blue-white springs on her right
And on her left-
the beautiful light of her future- her distant future.

Bohemian runs from her castle
The rooms are cold and the people
Build upon her hassles.

Will she know that-
those springs are on her right!
And on her left the beautiful, distant light of her future.

Lead on into the wild.
Won't you show me your deepest smile?
Fall away, fall away from the darkness.
It's okay, Bohemian.
Just smile.

Feathering away and spread your wings.
Lexi Harwick Jan 2016
a plant grows towards
the sun
as we grow towards
happiness
but the sun is 93 million miles
away
and happiness is out of reach
chickens still wait for corn
by the door of my granny's kitchen,
where sun once rose with a daughter
in skin of gold, and set with a son,
with silvery dreams

little girls still dance in twilight,
clad in the nakedness of innocence,
their chests bare, where ******* ought to be,
their scarves wild, flowing in the wind
and their voices climb palm trees,
in a bid to beat the boys to their dreams.

little boys form a group of toughlings
flooring the other in smart fast moves,
wrestling for fun, and raising dead dusts,
dusts of their forebears, who warred,
and set boundaries they'd grow up to meet:
and then forget unwritten bro codes,
forge new laws and grow cold,
act brave and grow old...
watch dreams fade into the dark

and the song of wasted years
punctuated with short sighs
shall form a new language
that tumble down our throats, tasting strange,
yet worth the dirge after all

adieu is the song, and
the circle goes on,

life
Skyler M Oct 2018
I need a peek,
A sneaking glance into the future,
To see what and who I become,
If I'm even alive at that point,
Now I have to admit that I know I'll be seeing darkness.

Yet I still retain a fraction of hope,
That my mind,
That my efforts will prove worth it and I'll gain purpose,
Purpose to move forward without a thought of death and regret.

A kid like me,
Well why shouldn't I be hopeful?
I've got many years to live,
Many years to change,
The only problem is that the years are long,
Then the winters will follow and I'll descend,
And the fear of all the years,
How many years will I have to go before I stop that?

Yet I still retain a fraction of hope,
That my mind,
That my efforts will prove worth it and I'll gain purpose,
Purpose to move forward without a thought of death and regret.
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