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Sarah Lane Jan 30
Long ago, I closed my eyes with the warm sun on my face
And I dreamed of finding more of myself beyond this place
So I set out on a journey that would take most of my life
I searched every path but fumbled back when met with strife
Each turn and new horizon just a mirage of hope that faded
The day brought less resolve; the nights despair invaded
My foolishness deluded me and priceless years it stole
Until I was left with nothing in a wasteland of my soul
Who am I beyond these mazes? I thought I could be more.
Now standing here, I see tracks of the lives that went before.
We are all the same; life ends with a breath just as it starts
So I closed my eyes and understood... I am no more beyond my heart
Pride and greed along with a myriad of futile pursuits lead us away from the simple yet solid core of who we are. These cheap things and false ideas distract us from what is truly meaningful and keep us from experiencing happiness, contentment, and peace.
Grey Oct 2020
Help, friend!
Please, just make this brutal cycle end!
Let me finally transcend
this reality we comprehend
as a futile means to a futile end.
8/17/2020
C F Tinney Jul 2020
Bukowski had it
the writing shoots from my soul
I don't care about babies or puppies
or rhyming anymore

Give me a fat cigar
and a deep whiskey
and I can write you a sonnet
of ******* and
write you a love poem
I do not mean

I smoke
I drink
I type what comes out
and I'm tired of hearing about tulips and butterflies

If you think you've got it all figured out
but you're working a job you hate
then the only thing you've figured out
is that you don't know what to do

You don't know that life is about living
that money is necessary, but awful
and that truly living is actually about living

Do you thing the trees give half a ****?
do you think that the flowing rivers care about internet speed?
do you think that your facebook friends would show up at your funeral

If only the world would shut down
if the digital, virtual world would stop
I'd grab a number 2 pencil and write
and jab a hole in the brain of modern society

and it would bleed money
it would bleed greed
it would bleed capitalism and success

and it would die
instead of my worn out soul

trying to swim in a sea of useless information
and overload
a sea of virtual *****

and then I would truly live
C F Tinney Jul 2020
I dress up and smile
and treat you like I love you

You eat it up
and feel worth

but if I met you in the street
I would could ignore you

It's only because you meet me at my job
my 9-5
that I have to act like you are worth everything

When I come to your 9-5
you have to do the same

As though we are not men and women
we play this sacred game.

If I saw you in the street
I would ignore you

But when you come to my 9-5
I must adore you

Or risk getting my pay
so I can eat and live and be

This dance of men and women
this capitalistic ritual
that makes the world turn
and kills the inner being
of those who dance
for each other

It is a lie
Bhill Jun 2020
Today's words are totally mindless but not factless.
Yes indeed...

indications are that the bananas are gone
the rowdy humanoids were responsible
where did the herd come from
is immunity now futile...?
yes, we have no bananas, we have no bananas today

Brian Hill - 2020 # 163
Find your own bananas...
colette alexia Mar 2020
Don't ask me how I've been
That's no longer your privilege
Don't try to care now when you couldn't care then
Don't start pulling at my heart unless you're ready to commit
It's too soon to be friends
02.2020
Anmol Mago Feb 2020
the
most
hopeless
pursuit
sometimes -

is to be
hopeful
for
anything
at all
inspired by Emily Dickinson
OpenWorldView Feb 2020
going back in time
to right the wrongs of your life
is a futile wish
learning from your mistakes is not
vera Oct 2019
For the last four months, the gears usually churning in my head have halted to an eerie stop. I can't recall anything passed and I can't think of anything new. Dust accumulated on gears big and small making them appear certainly abandoned. It was joined by cobwebs and the spiders who willed them into existence. If I concentrate hard enough I'm sure I will feel them crawling around looking for any sign of life or sustenance. Perhaps these poor creatures are out of luck. I think next, the rust will start to form, and then I will really be in trouble. It will corrode every last piece of metal and take no regard for the way it destroys me. Slowly, the gears will turn orange, and then brown, and then they will cease to exist at all. And that is when I will truly be a lost cause. I guess in a way I'm only getting what I’ve always wanted: for the gears to take a break, to stop churning so mercilessly all the time, to stop working countless possibilities over and over and over again. The most futile effort I’ve ever known. When the gears fall, I think I will be normal. Finally, in correspondence with the people I see around me, I will be just the same. Feigning happiness will not be required, because maybe I will just feel it.
Somewhatdamaged Sep 2019
What you're discovering now
I've lived that years ago.
Things you thought were impossible
I've seen it a long time coming.
All that was, called crazy,
Now everything's plain stupidity!
Surrounded by futile mind,
Have I become one of them?
Or am I still crazy?
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