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aurora kastanias Jun 2017
Traces of tiredness excavate deep into his skin,
Daily, as I enter with a volatile smile, weekly,
In search of my dose of earthly blood, pretending
I am blind to my perception, neglecting my intuition.

Assumptions lead to consider he’s always had one
Too many, and perhaps something more, should I guess
An alkaloid passing off as his friend, allowing him to keep
Going, beyond his natural forces and strength.

He’s ageing prematurely, worries and silver curls
For taxes and suppliers, a runny nose and a bloated belly,
Four years of activity, complots and conspiracy,
Courting customers who vary, trading loyalty for markdowns.

Experience acquired by the day, market research,
Watching the big shots being relieved, treating debts
By way of mathematical games as he pays
For each and every one of his mistakes.

His little dog assumes his likes, long grey hair
Covering his eyes, not to see, the infamy.
For that particular *** you can only ask Velier,
He sets the price, no bargains, no payables, barely any gain.

On the black market however, other stories are told.
Creative Naples, its entrepreneurs and financial guards
Guide you from depots to highways exchanging farewells
At the tollbooth. Your risk, your gloom, your despair.

The *** in his car boot costs less but is the same,
Same brand, same bottle, same taste, had to pass through Velier.
Nervous as a reluctant crook, his required foxiness impedes
Timid tears from rolling down his cheeks and give in.

As he questions the rules of the illegitimate system,
Cursing those deprived of scruples, dwelling
With notions of honesty and integrity, he too compelled
To evasion to merely survive,

His conclusion resolves in a simple explanation,
“If you are willing to give up morals, honour and passion
You can too attempt to succeed
In the wine bar industry.”
Brittani Jan 2017
I feel trapped in this cycle that never ends,
Forever chasing my tail
Unhappily and blindly treading along,
Trying to see through the veil

It's not that I can't,
It's simply that I won't
And I know that I should,
But the thing is, I don't

But that's no way to live...
You need to be on my side
And I need to be on yours
If we're gonna survive

I love you, I do.
And I know that we'll pull through
I just have to work on me
And you have to work on you
Nath Rye Jul 2016
When I was a little boy biking through the lush greeneries of our local park,
I fell down and scraped my knee.
Tears in my eyes, with blood coming out of the tear on my leg, I came to my parents.
Their reaction at first was what I had expected. Shock and fear for their son’s well-being came to their faces, but after realizing I was mostly okay, they uttered a line I still remember quite clearly.

It went like this:

“At least it’s just a scratch.”

And so with that began a life of “at leasts” and compromise.

“At least you passed the test”
“At least you made it on time”
“At least you were only late to the first 30 minutes of the movie”
“At least you were able to cram your homework”
“At least you managed, somehow, some way”
“At least you didn’t die”
“At least you were given part of what you wanted”

Part of what I wanted.


Now, I’ve grown wise enough to know that you aren’t always going
To attain or achieve everything you desire.
But when life always sells you short, you lose hope

But the most cruel "at least" that life decided to bestow upon me was...

“At least…. You met her.”

Yup.

The compromise was I couldn’t have her
I couldn’t make her my home
Because she was never there to stay.
“At least, you met her”

It was a tragedy
But a part of her will always remain
Because that part of her, no matter how small
Somehow changed something in me-
And, dear god, I hope it’s for the better.
It's a half-done poem. I might upload a complete version of this soon.
Cat Fiske May 2016
Born into this world free,
at our starts,
we've been made equal,

as we grow like a flower from a seed,
our nature leads us to break away,
at the beauty that it holds so dearly,

and once we are free'd,
we have also handed over our self control,
as we start to journey into the unknown.

we join into our society,
create our communities,
as we are made one with the residents of our territories,

tallying up our ballots
to determine the majority,
and voice our opinions as one,

but what becomes of the controversy?
the Runner up to the majority?
and who has the right to cast the ballot?

only men,
only those of white skin,
only those of a prosperous breed.

Those whom are never controlled,
but wish to take the repelled as there property,
as the pursue of others seem to end in only their benefits,

imported men bound to nonnative men,
by those whom forgotten their own native skins,
Forgotten they also traveled across the sea,

and back as they force imported men over sea,
as shiploads roll in,
with the contents of labor bearing men,

The Fixed majority binds those of minority,
Women, Children and Imported men,
to their fateful aftermath,

Eventually as we grow,
The Majority begin to release their control.
The minority stands up to the ******* they with held.

They fight for their rights,
and they last for their life,
The nightmare more pleasant to handle.

They don't hold back their pressing manners,
They don't fall two steps back to only move forward one.
They don't back down to those out to damage them.

The compromise is far from completion.
as the lack of freedoms still create more conflicts,
thus having to re-compromise again,

Those bound to religion and other establishments,
creates the fear of change for men,
the resistance leads to hate,

Hate towards people who must judge on face value,
rather than seeing a person past their appearance.
to the point of formation of organizations to patronize these people more.

those who suffer from these acts,
are still stuck inside the past,
they can't be happy for something they barely have.

They suffer silently,
hopping their dreams will one day come true,
to be equal without the needs for laws to make you to,

To feel actual equality
without the labels they have been given from society,
to feel their birth given rights in effect.

Some who suffer say it's worthless to keep trying,
even though their moment ended with people dying,
The cause is worth the fulfillment of those who suffered back then,

And back then the rolls were set in stone,
where women couldn't hold their own,
but now we face men and women trying to change.

The rolls will stay the same,
and they will flip flop and duplicate,
where everyone gets a ballot to voice their say,

Where dreams that reach from sea to shining sea,
will one day be able to breathe and shine through,
But dreams don't shine through,

not all are free from their marginalization.
not all are free to make their accusations,
not all people are born into the rights of freedoms.

Our nation has defaulted and defamed their citizens,
unless inside an arms race, then we are free to die next to each other,
before attending a meal together,

our nation is built by those who ran away from oppression,
those whom tried to grant their families a new beginning,
those whom have now moved away from their old traditions,

we are trying to make room for the change,
we are trying to make room for our voices,
we have been trying to make room for our dreams,

but somewhere along they way,
our dreams have started to fade away,
as our pride as an american is declining at the fastest rate,

their are too many dreams trying to take place,
when we change this and change that,
we forget to change ourselves,

we forget our morals and views,
we have forgotten the golden rule,
we need to treat others like we would treat ourselves,

roll of child, women, man, aside,
difference of Skin, Hair, or even Eyes,
difference of heritage gender and age too,

what I do to you,
should be taken with meaning,
and If I can't respect you.

should you respect me?
The core of our problems have a trace,
attitude is desire for the outcome.

America is never going to stay the same,
day by day America and its people constantly change,
And there's no escape.
For my English final
Romali Arora Apr 2016
Why cnt women be a lil more like men
and men lil more like women
Why cnt the two sexes travel a lil more
And reduce the distance  
Why can't we be a lil more of the good we are
A lil more of what we want to be
And battle a lil more
To be the change we wish to see
We always keep complaining about how our better halves can be so ignorant or so possessive or so controlling or so insecure or why can't they love like us and care like us? But do we ever take the efforts to find a common ground and make the relationship worth it instead of just expecting the other to walk 99 steps while we just manage to hardly crawl not but a single step?
Maxwell Apr 2016
I am your friend, your family
Always there when you need me
To attend to my matters, I leave
I return to see your new family

They are your friends, your family
I respect them because you do highly
I tried to see, I tried to love
To no avail, I failed without luck

It was too much, all to much
To see myself replaced, every time
To feel love only when they're gone
Is that all I am to you, your last one?

You need not say my role in your life
It was obvious, don't even lie
Plan Z, the least, your last
Among those names, call me what you like
Ignatius Hosiana Apr 2016
I
once
had
so
many
ambitions
and
dreams
but
now
I
just
want
to
be
HAPPY
Ignatius Hosiana Mar 2016
The
Apology
you
never
gave
will
do
because
there
is
hardly
any
Life
in
me
without
you
Lizley Mar 2016
deep against straightforward
tell me
how we would not collide
between the profound and the superficial
let's meet
in a place called compromise
somewhere an edge forms from two sides
somewhere a promise can be found
© Lizley (Maria Flordeliz Yamog)
|03.26.2016|
let's form edges and create frames of our love?
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