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J J 3d
Trying to catch a slice of thought process;
Like capturing lightening in a jar
            Only to smell it's exhumes.

It's a blessed freedom, to release
  an experience; an imitation of the world,
or an imitation of how others wrote and expressed
    the world, and at constant conflict to lose it's voice.

It can be enjoyably difficult (the best hobbies
    usually are) or flow smooth as blood thru vein.
   Pulling blood from a stone and unexpectedly
    heaving rainbowy rainwater can be it's own virtue--

    An idea caught half undeveloped
Only to shed cocoon to join the white blankness
And forever tarnish it's history--

As is existence,although we're too modest to admit it.

Writing is a piece of you and you belong to the human race,
and doubleedged a sword as that certitude is,
Writing is a piece of you left to the world.
Writing is forever
Tom 3d
There is but one thing,
That all humans fear,

Yet nothing we do,
Slows dreaded advance.  

Yes, death is the end,
No comfort in that,

But life is therefore,
More precious, more pure.

For us that will die,
Are luckier still,

Infinite lives lost,
Never to be lived.

That we do exist,
Is reward enough,

And better is now,
Than all time before.

Our time here will soon,
Come to darkest end,

And yet before then,
Life still has its time.
In the end you take nothing but yourself with you. None of the expectations and desires and needs and cares and worries and burdens  and concerns  of this world are carried with or matter on the other side. Until I am finally, blessedly free of the chains of this world and existence
I choose to have & be in this world with:
No *******
No Games
No Pain
No Expectations
No Grasping
No Drama
No Fear, Insecurities, Stress, Anxiety, Blame, or Worry  

Just multiple frequent ******* and grateful appreciation and joy and laughter and love and freedom and peace and serenity and goodwill and in service to others.

I want to love & care for and be loved & cared for by, those I hold most dear and beloved.

Nothing More than These Things and Nothing Less.

In the end perhaps all that matters is how well you loved and the love you've known. Everything else may have just been filler...


Genre: Rational
Theme: The God once said to me, all about the human connection.
Author's Note: Oh human, how trustfully you have crafted me with higher precision. In your existance I get life. With your trust I get life. My fate is absolutely entangled with yours. Now let me do my job.
Stay blessed.
Aaron August May 23
Here, the people rest
Under the sound of a bustling train.
Here, the people sit
Under the weight of many burdens on their backs.
Here, the people watch
The time tick by too quick to catch hold of.
Here, the people yawn
With gaping mouth waiting for their time to arrive.
Here, the people ponder
Of many things, I know not of.
Here, the people quiet
Through the journey long ahead.
Here, the people ride
Through miles of endless thought.
Here, the people listen
Yet they don't, their eyes transfixed on empty space.
Here, the people are
For here they just exist
Passing as a shadow
No, there's nothing here to hear
Nothing here to see
The people are simply here.
Isaac Ward Apr 27
From the shadows, the sunlight-
Pours down like so much rain,
And I know that I've been here before-
And I'll come back here again,
The clock ticks the years away-
And they pass by like another day,
And if I can't go home again,
Well, I'm sure I'll be okay.
Every night on soothing darkness
Get lost among the bright stars

Find a clue of your existence
Genre: Micro Verse
Theme: inhale, exhale
kar Jan 11
our bodies are made of glass,
so fragile that when you dropped me,
i shattered.
and the pieces were left behind,
to remind me of all the things i did,
that made the blood splatter.
i take a shard you left behind,
and crease it across my skin
i bleed out,
but don’t cry,
because i won’t let you win.
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