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Freedom!
I scream for it,
a desperate cry against the expectations that binds me.
I’m suffocated by the facade of relationships,
the hollow cackle of deceitful souls.

I am enraged!
Fuming at the system that seeks to define me,
at the degradation that clings to my skin
like an unwanted shadow,
a constant reminder of my insignificance.

I’m weary of pursuing aspirations
that crumble to dust in my grasp,
unattainable visions that lead me
to the edge of despair.
I yearn to exist without ambition,
to dissolve into a crowd
where my identity vanishes,
where I’m a specter,
unseen, unrecognized,
lost in a realm that remains indifferent.

I long to flee this cursed present,
to leap into a tomorrow
that remains a cruel illusion,
where no one acknowledges my presence,
no one cares,
no one trails my footsteps
or feels the pain of my sorrow.

I am drained—
exhausted from the humiliation
that gnaws at my core,
tired of everything I once held dear,
weary from dreaming
only to fall and fall again.

In this furious pursuit of liberation,
I don’t merely wish to vanish;
I seek to obliterate the chains,
to shatter the delusions,
to discover a place where I can breathe,
where I can be whole,
untethered from the past,
and finally reclaim my reality
with a fury that cannot be contained.
This poem is to all those individuals struggling to live their dream due to the expectations of others.
With legacy financial options such
     As gold or fiat we have no way to
          Send and receive lightning quick
               Micropayments across the world.
                    We need a way to send secure
                         Micro transactions of fractions
                              Of a penny nearly immediately
                                   Therefore
                              Let’s continue adopting Bitcoin
                         And expanding the use of the
                    Lightning network that enables
                These incredibly small amounts.
           Each Bitcoin is divided into 100
     Million units called Satoshis, or
“Sats” used for micropayments.
This is number 32 in the Problems and Solutions Series.  You can see this poem on a background here - https://www.bitcoinpoems.pro/delivery119Micropayments.html
snipes Dec 2024
Does it all make sense yet?
Does this life have any feeling?
Is our soul in the right hearts?
Will we finally find harmony?

Once a upon a time we were all alive
Passed the golden gates as orchestras
synthesized a symphony
No one ever heard of hate or blasphemy
Peace was found along side of freedom
and we could peacefully breathe freely

Now twice a upon a reality death was rudimentary
The faucet leaking took a soul while all our hearts were sinking
Blood clogged so bad it sent vibrations worth 8 years of seizures
The lineage broken breaks down a soulmate into insanity
The silence of fear hoping to find its harmony
Meditation brought me to table of contents.
The subject matter of God and Death
has been humbling to the soul.
I talk with them often for grace.
At times the Devil will have a few whispers.
I am forced to hear but it’s my choice if I should listen.
Peace and freedom is something I fear to balance.
More or less the pages keep turning.
And in this book of life I hope to find the meaning of the soul at least once or twice.
Stacey Dec 2024
What is a choice, anyway -
is it a freedom, or is it a burden?

For me,
it is a paralysis
between what is and what should be.

Who I am,
who I should be...
who I could be.

Choice opens up possibilities -
endless, unfathomable possibilities.

Choice is making a decision
I am not qualified to make.
In a world where manipulation is rewarded,
marginalisation is profited upon,
and freedom of choice is weaponised -

I’m not sure I feel free.

Where your freedom to choose
now carries with it the responsibilities of greedy oil companies,
tech giants,
and toxic product producers.  

It is the irony of being forced into a system
that tells you:
you chose to be here,
It’s your fault!

You drank the highly addictive Kool-Aid  
we forced down your throat,
and that addiction -
is your fault!

We are persuaded into thinking our choices are casual,
while they are anything but.

I relinquish my freedom to choose.

Instead,

I search for the freedom of simplicity -
where a choice becomes personal once again.

What clothing mood am I in today?
What do I feel like eating this morning?
How shall I spend my Sunday afternoon?
What’s my body telling me about this social interaction?

In lieu of...

Whose opinion should I base my personality on?
What can I justify as a “healthy” amount of time spent on social media?
Which chickens had the happiest lives?
What dishwashing liquid is the least toxic?

Yes -

I crave the simplicity of what is,
not what could be.

Often, I envy the unbothered-ness of the breeze -
sometimes going this way,
sometimes going that way.

Completely unconcerned with the junction between directions -
simply following its set course.
I am quite passionate about making educated choices, yet I am also passionate about making intuitive choices. Both serve a purpose in my life, but I often find myself craving intuition most of all!
Henda Dec 2024
Go and see the world
Cause we were never meant to fly away together

Our souls connect
Our bodies speak
But we live in different worlds
With different minds
And no chemistry can ever win from that

So live your life to the fullest
Love without borders
And be happy mi amor
dead poet Nov 2024
write a verse,
write a song,
write it with the chillum, on a ****.
write slow, write fast -
write with an ******* while it lasts.
write for the right reasons, and the wrong ones too:
write because it matters to you.
write like a man, write like a woman -
write despite their contempt, unforgiven.
write on the walls,
of the times you recall -
when you felt small,
or when you’d fall.
write your heart out!
write your ***** out! -
and don’t you ever doubt -    
wheather it’ll work out,
or choke your bank account.
write, if not for anything -
for the hope that still lies within;
just write, do not ask why!
if you must know -
write because you’d rather die.

write, my friend -
write.
G N Kayacılar Nov 2024
Hello sojourner
You, walking down the freeway
Did you **** a man last night
before riddance took him on his own time
Did you come out of the womb and become a holy judge

I can tell by the look in your eye
You dream of building a house on hard shells and salt mud
Down the shore on the ramparts
to drink from the debris and float in the cyclone
You don't cut your flesh
But you feel, every time the tide hits the rocks

Goodbye sojourner,
Are you done with the mountain?
Did you watch a bird of prey as it glides,
and envy the freefall more than the flight?

If I told you I rooted out time  
Held it by the horns, knocked it out
A lifetime landlocked, would you go gentle?
On a pinnace, through the gulf.
You would go a sailor,
moored into the chasms below
Nostalgia Nov 2024
A puppet for you to use as you please.
Each string tied around limbs
Preventing the steps of my free will.
Did I ever have a mouth to speak with?
Or was it you who just drew it on my face?
I believed I was yours. You thought I was yours to take.
Perhaps we both were mistaken.
But this life is no longer mine to live.
So I will let you have it.
I will become the lifeless puppet you needed.
And just maybe,
you won't forget me.
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