Millions of hearts,but each having different kinda feelings...
Some full of love n some just with nerves n blood....
Millions of brains,each having its own kinda thought process....
Smart brains rule the world while duffer ones ruled by others...
Millions of hands,but doers of different deeds.....
Some are helping hands while others are just fr snatching....
Millions of feet,each pair moving with its own pace...
Some towards heaven while other towards hell....
Life life life......
Such a complex as well as simple concept...and on. the other hand...
WE...the great creation of god known as humans...never live in present always think about past n tooooo worried about future....
Millions of tensions,sorrows,worries have ruined our brain to such a extent that we have forgot to live life....

#4

there is a plant in my room that,
with no rhyme or reason,
withers and droops and snaps
whatever the season.
at times when there is plenty of sun
streaming through,
enough for its buds to open
and leaves to unfurl
they remain closed tight
against the light
i do too.

there is a plant in my room that,
when oxygen is inhaled and
carbon dioxide absorbed,
it picks up its branches and tries
to let the warmth reach its skin,
to bring back its colour and bloom a little.
but the light does not warm any deeper
than a layer or two
and when the exchange is over and left
it droops again
i try too.

there is a plant in my room that
can sometimes forget its water
and its dirt that keeps it grounded.
though it knows that
its roots will shrivel,
and its petals will fall,
that the watering can will gather dust
and its tray will fill up stagnant
till the sheer weight of negligence
can tip over its *** and scatter its soil
i forget too.

there is a plant in my room that
knows one day the sun will stop streaming
and warmth won’t reach.
that no buds nor leaves will remain to hold tight.
that gaseous exchanges cease.
that layers will shed and bare branches.
that roots will disintegrate,
and that water will evaporate.
it knows one day it won’t find its way back
after tipping over one last time.
that its soil will find other
weeds to keep alive
and it will decompose.
and i will too,
for there is a plant in my room that
dies when i do

This song hasn’t been worth picking up in 42 days,
and I’m giving in.
I’ve lived in my head all my life,
I had feared all my words had run dry.
But I felt in my mind
That all I tried to repress
Only comes back to me in waves,
And now i’m drowning and depressed.
So i’m opening up
And feeling, emotions are misleading.
I rioted for so long
I forgot my own name
This is a peaceful protest,
Indirect, i confess,
I sincerely miss disinterest.

Setting stones in your pockets to get your mind down to Earth
Skipping rocks over water to watch them sink one last time
Scaling cliffs just to watch the valleys from up high
The physical minerals of this world remind us of the things within ourselves that we choose to avoid
The vitamins we lack from touch of rays because sun equates to happiness and knowledge. And we put it off for the next day
That's why the physicians always tell us to watch our vitamins and minerals
We are malnourished in interactions. Nature being the physical aspect we use to forget about the inside.
At least for the moment
Until we choose to live healthily.

I have never felt its stillness diffuse its way into my abyss.
I have never felt its cool potency soothe away the pain.
I can only imagine its fluidity cloaking my body like a warm knitted blanket that I so long for.
I have never dreamed of water.

One word,
one action,
can change the running of a whole day,
you might think that it is normalcy; to be treated this way,
harsh enough to change the chemical balance in your brain,
many exclaim; "Do not complain!"
but the world tests, and tests it will to the profane,
do not obey, believing their feign,
do not stray from your scruples,
the morally intact thing that keeps you from being insane,
I know that they have greatly wronged you,
misguided you,
but do not dismay,
Whatever they say,

It's not them talking; you can say it's the *******,
It's not them talking; you can say it's the drunk mistakes,
It's not them talking; you can say it's the losses addressed in tainted bloodstains,

police sirens, and hand grenades,
school lobby back door, waiting with a full case,
past then, present now,
ringing in your ears; you're just another cash cow,
knocked out by your posse and left with a syringe,
a small dosage of ******, a reason to imprisonment,
do not believe that you're just a particle of dust in a **** ashtray,
don't listen,
don't carry their burden that they've handed over in hopes of you falling,
the impact would be small on them, but to you appalling,
but do not express insult in spite for revenge,
this way this war will never back-end,
to imagine a world where you take after them in this game of pretend,
would make you have the most tragic end

your life is not over; ignore what your parents claim,
your life is not over; ignore what old friends say,

because everyone now has an aim to shame,
a loved personality from sunny months ago,
long before the discovery of substances abused along with coke,

Be the bigger person,
move on from what is in the past,

a tomorrow will arrive to swept up yesterday's bad ending;
so believe in the future impending,
believe it or not,
that way your cracked, damaged soul would be mending