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Three blind men touched an elephant one day,
Each judged the animal in their own way.
One felt the leg and boldly cried,
“A rough, strong tree trunk, broad and wide!”

Another touched the tusk and cried,
“So smooth and sharp from every side!”
The third held the tail and gave a sigh,
“It’s thin and hairy, like rope swinging by.”

All three were right, yet all were blind,
None saw the whole with an open mind.
They argued loud, in anger and might...
Each defending only their slice of sight.

Isn’t it just like the world today?
Where people fight over what they pray?
Different names, but lessons the same,
Still we battle, Come on it's 2025!!
What a shame!!
I saw this story on a YouTube channel and I thought  of creating a poem on it however I know this story before, my grandma told this in my childhood when I saw this on YouTube I was like hey it's my childhood story and I thought of creating a poem on this I don't remember the channel name if any one knows plz tell me its actually been a month since I saw that video. Well we all know there's a single form of energy who made us all , who all we love there might be different forms beliefs different methods to pray but I know faith and love are same💖
They call them the Kings of Bones,
torching the  villages and the homes.
Saying they’re done with the ******* and moans
they’re expected to hear when upon their thrones.

So tell me is a battlefield even real
if it isn’t littered in blood, limbs and steel?
The bone kings only receive their end of the deal
if they offer up those who support them for the next meal.

So with scraped and ****** knees,
how are they to pray or please?
If our heads are always bent,
does worship even hold any sentiment?

So tell me is it really a done deal,
just like in guns, germs and steel?
The bone kings take what they want, act as they feel.
They tear all apart and neglect to place a seal.

They’re all too busy reading out of date scripture
that they’re all missing the blatantly clear picture;
Hell is empty as the devils walk the earth.
Everyone wants to rule the world,
trade gold for diamond and diamond for pearl;
doesn’t realize the reverse of worth.

Now they’re wearing collarbones around their neck,
and accessorizing every vertebrae as a ring.
Assuming this cruelty grants them respect,
really at best it’s just straight vulgarity.

But each King stands alone,
forever isolated and on their own.
So they polish a fresh bone
just to add to their skeletal throne.
Stole “Bone Kings” from a Star Wars book, and were not a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.
Irelyn Thorne Jul 10
I dream to fight you everyday
Because I hate it when you get your way
I dream to fight you every light
Because I can feel your betrayal
Every night

I dreamed to fight you
Like when waves hit the sand
And I'll keep dreaming
Every time I can't stand
Every single compliment you give
And each time you didn't let me live

I dream to fight you
Because I'm jealous of your roots
How you are still a child
And haven't had to deal with many of these truths
I dream to fight you
In each and every way
Kicking and screaming and yelling and punching
Until you listen to what I have to say

I dream to fight you
Because you know what I have lost
Yet you don't seem to blink an eye
Or realize how much of me it cost
And I'll dream to fight you
In every moon and, every sun
Because you think so low of me
But one day I will show you that I have won
Maria Jun 21
Let’s try without needless words,
Unnecessary pauses and empty doubts
To finish out fairy tale, titled “Unlove”.
Let’s stop all fights. We have no other outs.

Let’s try without needless tears
To recognize that we're both orphaned.
We’ve been repaid wholly for our Unlove:
Our hearts are faded, our souls're ossified.

Let’s try without needless words
To say the only one and single phrase:
“Forgive me for this poor Unlove!”
It’ll be the rare truth without any haze.
Thank you very much for reading this poem! 💖🙏
Give me the sea and I'll drink it
all of it
Give me the sky and I'll blot it out
cut it out
leave the gaping earth barren of its liquid dressing
and leave the sky naked of its blue face
there is no compare
that is
not to say you are not enough for me
not at all
it is to say you are more than I could have desired
more
than I could have dreamed
and I do not tire of you
not in my darkest moments
when I'm stretched thin
and there is no longer
a devil-may-care draped about my addled mind
when my patience snaps
when my jaw clamps
my eyes droop
my brain thumps against my skull
not even then
with the last vestiges of civility held in grasp
not even then can I think to lash out at you
not even when you poke
or ****
plod about my sensibilities
maim my sensitivities
not even then
not even when you roll your eyes
give me that long 'hmmmm - really...'
I don't give in to the nagging,
nigh satisfying itch to shake with rage
and curse everything that stems from the womb
I am cool as a cucumber
placid as a windless lake
I roll my shoulders
flutter my eyelashes
look you up and down
say,
'My... my... tired aren't you?'
Your shoulders slump
Your efforts to topple me abate
You nod your head
curl up on my lap
isn't it
funny
how comforted we become
when we are offered solace
in exchange for an argument
that neither of us
would win?
The first line came to me and I thought it was so funny.
So I wrote out a poem for it and I hope you like it as much as I did writing it.

Enjoy!

DEW
Rafael Melendez Feb 2022
Her
The touch of her hand on mine, fingers clasped tightly.
Her arms wrapped around me, squeezing the life out of me.
Her lips, soft and light as heaven's touch, they part, and
God, you always sound like an angel when you tell me you love me.

I wish I'd remember when we argue, so I can change.
I wish I didn't only remember these things after we fight, maybe things would end differently.
I'm afraid one day it will be too late.

Please, never let it be too late.
Anais Vionet Nov 2021
I’m in the kitchen at Lisa’s. Her little sister Leeza enters, her pale, freckled face redder than usual. “Liza is the bossiest sister..,” Leeza says, slamming the cupboard door after grabbing a box of Fruity-Pebbles-cereal like she’s choking the life out of it.

Lisa enters from the hall, her jaw set with tension, she waves her “La Mer” makeup bag, wildly, letting its very existence, there in the kitchen, function as angry exposition. “YOU,” she practically screams and then shaking with outrage, she begins more calmly. “You can’t use someone else's makeup and ESPECIALLY not their brushes!!” She had begun under control but with each word her message grew emotionally.

“I didn’t hurt anything!” Leeza answered venomously back, giving as good as she got.

I lean with my **** against the waist high kitchen island, slowly letting myself slide down to where I’m not visible, into a sitting position on the floor, as the fight quickly escalates.

Have you ever been a guest somewhere, when there’s a sibling fight or other parents start yelling at a friend? All you can do is try and become invisible - or pretend to text on your phone like you can’t hear the turmoil.

I catch a motion out of the corner of my eye, it’s their mom, Karen, motioning me, with a side-bob of her head, into the living room. I quietly, crouchingly exit the kitchen - the fight reaching full, nuclear bloom.

I join her on a white sectional, breathing a sigh of relief. We’re far enough away from the action to feel uninvolved. I like Karen a lot. She's warm, open and always seems to be suppressing a smile when watching her girls. She’s a lawyer. “You’re officially part of the family,” she says, as she takes a sip of coffee, “they don’t fight in front of company.” I grin.

Somewhere just below the tumult, I hear a dad’s deep, male voice, “Excuse me?” he says, and the fight is instantly over. There is a moment of deafening quiet. “It’s NOTHING,” both girls say, a second later, in perfect, synchronized, bored-sounding unison.
sisters, what can you do?
Lunar Jun 2021
When the darkness spreads and the screaming penetrates even my dreams
The seduction of empty space calls at me
It’s attraction is undeniable
My daydreaming naturally becoming more visual  
The flavour of death
An ecstasy like no other
My strongest and last ******
So many options but only one to be my sinful romance

Will it be:
My tanned yellow appearance if I take too much
The chalk outline if I take a nudge
The rose stained bath if I dig a bit more
My neck ornament when I hit the floor
The gruesome distance a burst pipeline will go
The sweating and shaking from a hypo
Or simply a collision with a glare of light
Or maybe the ground was never my right
And I would prefer the pull from my lungs’ weight
or the heat off my skin as it ablates

Or maybe you would prefer an accident
Maybe that will help you cover your names
Don’t worry I won’t leave a note
I’ll let your guilt engross you
And when it gets too much you can use your sorry excuses to help suit you
You can blame my unstable personality
My weak mental health
My poverty of speech
But at least you’ll think twice the next time you speak
This will be my sweet everlasting revenge
However for now my battle isn’t over. I just refuse to be taken to the enemy side. I would rather stab myself with own spear than have my soul be tainted.

When It’s do or die, I feel electrified
- Autumn Kings: Electrified
Raven Feels May 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, a dream one week ago:9


when that world came to an end

I saw all the colors in hindsight-eyes bend

cheetahs brush the graves on a pupil in the browns they fade

kisses planted on necks for a goodbye imaginary mates no meet made

stake on the runs

cars jogging in place neon lights with no sun

the packed stuff stumble on frights and screams I can't shut

the hell does it mean when you're choked on fatal without a but

doors abandon left sensations in scare in must

breathes don't do any when opened after this disastrous dust

when the world came to a salty end

a smile in me shattered on no coming backs forever send


                                                                            -------ravenfeels
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