The supreme being.
Space sightseeing.
If I was,
the creator and ruler,
I wouldn’t be minuscular.

Source of all moral authority.
Power and superiority.
If I was,
the universal leader,
I wouldn’t be a breeder.

Nature and human fortunes.
Praise or reward the orphans.
If I was,
the worshiped spirit,
I would be merit.
The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God
                                                          (P­salm 14)

As your tattoos fade and your piercings close
your slang becomes outmoded. So it goes.
Bliss and Ignorance must yield to Wisdom
Experience learns to suffer its Freedom.
Time accelerates, seasons quickly pass—
you realize that your head was up your ass
years on end, Reason lost to Vanity;
only God can restore the sanity.
Now the music sounds different, stupider;
low, less able to conceal Lucifer.
Your once-massive ego now lies humbled
in rubble where your defenses crumbled
edifice built upon your ignorance
of God, Evil, Life—and of Innocence.
Gradually, your soul awakened to death;
your pulse knows a limit, so does your breath.
yeah . . . purple tattoos
so you kinda look like old
USDA prime (?)
Heather 1d
Little girl
Optimistic in life
Little girl
Naive as can be to the cruelty of the world
Little girl
Aspires to be what she is told
Little girl
Through her eyes she sees
Rainbows butterflies and unicorns
Little girl
No longer little
Big girl, all grown up
What does she now know
How snappishly they say-
Autistics are challenged people,
And how deferring I become-
” I am independent”,quoting on the leaves of maple.

How vividly they just quote a single story,
“autistic lacks almost all skills”,
And how silently I just walk in shadow,
whispering in their ears, the god’s glory!

How their eyes shine when they state-
“Oh, don’t worry , he is emotionless,”
And how shall I tell them,
I do wail and cry while chalking the slate.

How uncountable times they speak the same thing,
all because they think I can’t focus,
And how valantly I stand on their face,
Without an irritable hint, cutting the poison of sting.

How easily they decide for me,
that I can’t stand out in the crowd,
And, Oh! How eagerly I wish to tell them,
that they never withstand to feel my moment of glee.

Autism is not being pessimistic
I am a symbol of optimism,
Autistic are artistic,
And I am creature -so- galactic.

There is this SPECTRUM in me-
You say, I suffer from “Autism Spectrum Disorder”,
But have you even felt the beauty of rainbow?
That spectrum is not a disorder and so am I !
This is dedicated for all people suffering with ASD( Autism Spectrum Disorder ) and the stereotypes they face because we decide a single story for them. And can't we see each one of us that beauty laid deep inside gifted by God. Loads of respect and salute to bravery for standing strong. Much love.
Heather 1d
What is my faith
My faith is my identity
Something that takes ahold of me
My anchor
My anchor is what keeps me still when the storms come by
The anchor that holds me gives me confidence to stand
The anchor that keeps my life still is now gone
No anchors hold me
Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance of what we do not see
Well this faith of mine is my anchor
But is my faith my anchor if  i do not hope for it or believe it is there
Did someone steal it or did i just let go
When the storms come
They come like angry winds with salty cries
They scare me
But the anchor i depended on to save me i let go of
Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance of what we do not see
Where did my anchor go
(please give feedback ) this poem is about a time where i just let go of my faith and the moment i realized it was not there anymore
zeebee 2d
in the darkest moments
of the darkest nights,
i forget You can hear me.

in the brightest moments
of the brightest days
i forget i need You.

i forget the feel of your voice
i forget how it slipped
into the ridged fingerprint
of my soul.
i forget the whisper of your love
i forget how it sounded
when You spoke the truth
and i ignored it.

i forget that
all the static
of my failures
should not overcome
the melody of Your Spirit.
i forget how to listen
and believe
because i am so used to lying to myself
that the truth seems impossible;
just out of my undeserving reach.

oh Lord, i am undeserving
my hands have dirt and filth and blood
caked under the fingernails
and painted in the creases of my palms.
my skin is tainted. i am not whole.
but i am also undeserving
of the things i have whispered
to myself
in the shadows of my depression.

You tell me things that i don't think
i need to hear.
for years, i've refused.
i've so foolishly claimed
my own wisdom.
i am not wise.
i am not deserving.

But i am Yours.
ok listen.

How many times do I have to tell you that you are beautiful inside and out? That it is okay to feel bad because it is normal and we are not perfect? Sweetie, I know that it is truly difficult, but that's how life is. There will be times that you will get stressed and feel devastated. You'll feel disappointment and frustration even over the smallest things. It can also make you feel like you just want to crawl back to your comfy shell and hide there forever.  But it's okay. It happens for a reason. It can be a good or bad lesson and it's up to us on how we will use it or affect our lives. There's no need to rush. Take a deep breath and lie down. Reflect and give time to think about what to do next. It is your life, your own pace. You can do it and no one has the right to tell you that you can't.

- k.g.
i'll consider this as my way of showing how much i missed writing poetry and how much i want to tell myself to hang on and to never lose sight of what's really important. i also dedicate this to the ones who are currently going through a lot and confused in what they want to be and who they really are ♡
I remember,
A precious hours, minutes and seconds
I remember,
A tender talk

Since the day
I first saw you
I feel reflection of my mom
Silent, kind and sensible

The same day,
I wished for togetherness.
Genre: Love
Theme: Truth never dies.
What is our love
Is it veracious and pure
As the angels above
Or should I have fear
And lack of trust
Is she really unfaithful
Is our intimate lust
To her not meaningful
Does she love me
Am I her only one
Or am I one of three
Merely just played with for fun
Does everyone else feel this, too?
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