We want freedom don't we?
It's hard to find
Like diamonds in dirt
But there's ways to get it
Here are a few that some do

For freedom
For freedom you must ******
The politions and the police
You must **** presidents
And innocent people
Who have nothing to do
With your maddening antics

For freedom
You must throw sticks and stones
Knife them with spiteful words
Shoot them with hate

For freedom
You must throw bombs
Explosions of anger will erupt
Sadness will come
Tears of pain will fall

Children will cry
Babies will die
Mothers will sob
Father will be shocked
The world will be stunned
Celebrities will be stalked
Possibly slaughtered

Nails will be everywhere
Rumble will crumble
Into tiny breadcrumbs
Homes will be gone
The homeless will live
On dark gloomy streets

Money will be used
On weapons of wrath and war
Leaving the wealthy with nothing
And they will be naked in alleys
In poverty and hopelessness  

Human lives will be wasted
But that won't matter will it?

recently
after every massacre
by some fanaticized pathological idiots
politicians call upon their citizens
to come together
and pray for the murdered and their families

this is absolutely appropriate

but it seems
that ever since 9/11
the nation only comes together
AFTER more of its members have been killed

I wish very much
that the nation
   AND politicians
would come together
BEFORE  the next massacre
and take appropriate action
to prevent such disasters
in the first place

I’m lost.

I have no clue on what’s going on
Or what am I supposed to do.

It’s like I’m drowning.

Help.

END THIS MENACE SOON
Leaping flames and rising fumes
Billowing through shattered panes
Of Mumbai's majestic Taj Hotel,
Choked the helpless inmates
Who knew not why and what
Had caused the terrible blast:
Trapped inside burning rooms,
Scampered and struggled                              in vain
To flee from the spreading flames
And bullets fired from Kasab's
guns.
Shocked and stunned,
the whole nation
Watched with horror and bated
breath,
On TV screens the terrorists' siege
And the commandos' daring acts
To rescue victims and seize
the fanatics
Who maimed and killed innocent guests
And left painful scars, indelible,
On the minds and hearts
of survivors.
When will the world find strategies
To end this menace of
recurring crimes
And save peace loving people
in  all nations?
        * M.G.N.Murthy
Hyderabad, India.

What fills the space,
the empty void that life has taken
Who's to fill your dying heart---
beating raindrops like crystals
slipping under your black eyes
Where will you go if
nobody has asked you to stay
And lastly,
when will you come home to me---
the place you belong wholeheartedly...

The heart if this city still has one beats to the sound of mutterings down here on the underground.

Nothing can be taken away
not now
not yesterday and
tomorrow will come
come what may.

For the living life goes on
in an orderly fashion
that's what we do,

chaos has no place here  
we do not fear
fanatics.

There's always an element
of discontent
from a small contingent
and that's what this is

taken to extremes.

These are not nightmares
or daydreams
though sometimes it
seems
that they are,
this is the moment
taken too far

Advice

Keep your chin up and
at the same time
tuck your head in

I’ve always been consumed with a sadness and heaviness i could never rid myself of
I wrote constantly.
I knew what heartache felt like and yet nothing could have prepared me for this.
I have not yet lost you.
You’re still here, you still love me.
But for how long?
My mind keeps running back to that sadness to that emptiness and i ask, “how much longer do i have?”
I’ve taken up tarot cards, runes and pendulums and i ask them all the time.
I ask them how things are really going.
I ask them if you still love me or if you’re only pretending.
“How much longer do i have?”
Why?
I want to be prepared.
I want to know you’re leaving before even you do.
I want to grieve before it happens so it doesn’t **** me.
I feel the anxiety burning in my chest already.

I find myself daydreaming about a future where I’m in a lonely little apartment late at night and I can feel your arms around me. However, when I roll over to face you there’s no one there and I remember that you’re with someone else and you’re happier with her.

I don’t want that to be real.

I don’t want you to leave.

I’m scared.

So I try to hope for the best but I want to prepare for the worst.
Please tell me how long I have. Please tell me before it ends.

People call me
Positive
A smile on my face
With just enough grace
To pull off a lie

You see
I’ve never been
Happy
For more than a couple weeks
Since my debut at preschool
I was never meant to live
Free

First came physical abuse
But not the kind you get from someone
Older
Rather someone your age
Some who’s only four
Someone who has no idea
No idea
That they’re the trigger to the bomb

But too late
For it’s already set off
The alarms blaring in my ears
But to everyone else they’re
Nothing
Silence
The laughter of children
Because I was never important enough to be seen

I was pulled off playground equipment by my hair
Slapped for wanting to use the same toy as the other kid
The mulch was my best friend
For it was the only thing cushioning the blow
Showing any kind of mercy
To the little girl who just smiled it off

Smiling
That’s all I ever did
I never wanted to cause a problem
I never wanted to become a burden
I never wanted to be
Alone
But it was too late for that

By elementary school, I was the target
Even with a new playground
The mulch remained my only friend
Friends
I wish I had some of those back then

Second came the emotional abuse
Tearing me down by
Taking my things
Ripping my projects
Taking my books out of my hands
And accidentally spilling your school milk all over it
And they say people never cry over spilled milk

Talking behind my back was nothing new
Even for the teachers
My supposed guardians
They could be the worst of them all
Not even sparing me a glance to see the pain
The agony
Behind my eyes, my smile
For I still wore my smile

People can be cruel
My entire grade against me
Convincing the nurse that I was unhygienic
Convincing the principle I was a “bad kid”
Convincing myself that I wasn’t
Worth it

It
Is that life?
My dreams?
My hobbies?
My smile?

They were all after my smile
After every physical attack
They tried to wipe the grin off my face
But I stood strong
My biggest mistake

Third came the mental abuse
When I started to realize
That something was going terribly
Wrong

My mind saw people as a threat
A weapon
Their words, bullets
Shot left and right
One after the other

I researched
I tried to find out
Why I kept smiling
Why I kept thinking
That it would get better

The letters hit me like a freight train
P-T-S-D
I know it was associated from people in war
Those in other countries fighting for our people

My war was more invisible
On home turf
With nowhere for me to run
I was stuck
Grounded
Lost

My war was hell
My war is hell
My mental illness is no joke
Anxiety and panic attacks following close
Afraid to let go
Afraid that I would leave them behind

My PTSD is no joke
The night terrors keeping me up
I’m afraid to fall asleep
Going to school with bags under my eyes is a prettier site
Than me screaming in the night

I couldn’t make friends my freshman year of college
I couldn’t look anyone in the eye
When people asked if I wanted to sit with them for a meal
I smiled
Said no thanks
And braced for a punch

For my body was always braced
My body was always ready for abuse
My brain was numb
Numb to people
Numb to their actions
Numb to my internal screams
Numb

It’s funny
How a couple people during recess in preschool
Turned me into this

A girl
With PTSD
Anxiety
Panic Attacks
A phobia of meeting people
Because that’s coupled with abuse
And that doesn’t always mean getting punched

It all started with a couple people
And it ended with a life-long mental disorder

Their hateful words define me every time someone new talks to me
Their terrifying glances define me when I catch a stranger’s gaze
Their punches define me
Their attacks define me
The backstabbing
The laughter
The whispers
It all defines me

So why smile?

Because
That person that helped pick up my books in the hallway defines me
That person that picked my face up from the mulch defines me
That person that told them all to “cut it out” defines me
That person that smiled at me defines me
That person that said “hi” to me defines me

While the bad took its toll
The good took its place
As the staircase
As the sunshine
As the only hope I had left to hang on to
For these positive actions
Overshadowed the bad ones
Even if they happened less often

It taught me that my smile
Could mean someone’s entire world
Could mean life and death
Could save *me