Destiny is lady luck gambling with our lives
Good and bad share the coin but different sides
Light and dark - heads or tails if you will -
Darkest void, brightest sun
Shape and form cannot exist with only one
Where it lands; the hands of fate
Sometimes even the stakes are not yours to make
But win or lose; how you pay your debt (or collect)
Is yours to choose.
I've been with a bad man
with a prince charming
with a soft guy
but it all didn't work out
I might ended up with three boyfriends at the same time
but none of them make me happy still.
The artists impartiality
Of their craft's integrity
Is their profound gift
May it set us all free-
& Vanquish all anxiety.
When each page is blank, and book empty
Its full with potential's entierity.
Our real gift is sweet opportunity
To create and contrive
Its in our art we become who we wanted to be
With truthfull eyes we garentee
That you'll one day begin to see
The artist's impartiality.
Grace & Reem
If you want to see what becomes of optimists just look upon the faces of those people coming out of betting shops and casinos.
A pessimist will tell you that optimism is an addiction that will cost you as much as you are willing to wager and eventually the house will win.
You can only be as optimistic as you are lucky.
I bet you I am right....
she will crash the party
and leave in haste
she will bring riches
and bleed you dry
she will take one form
and depart in another
she is lady luck
and she will keep you alive today
but extinguish your life tomorrow
It is the night time
Owl's eyes look right at mine
the eerie silence fills in
But I look away first, coyly look back,
Keep gazing eye to eye
I'm hoping to grow wise overnight.
i ate a four-leaf clover and
consumed its luck, which died in me.
i lied in the quick, quiet field,
killing the grass,
looking to set myself free.
i drank and i drank
from every river, every creek,
my thirst unsatisfied until it had every sea.
my touch burned down forests,
my glance slaughtered meadows,
when climbing and looking for everything, anything,
i killed every tree.
in my quest for satisfaction,
i murdered the sky,
and yet nowhere have i found the fulfillment
i believe key.
thus, starved for complacency,
i continue my fruitless killing spree.
Luck has to be earnt,
So go out
When the birds are singing tomorrow
While the sun is entering my room,
I'll wake up with water surrounding my place
But once I inhale and exhale,
Bet that I'll win every race.
Even if the dirt wants to dirt me,
Let it be, because I'm standing straight
And my eyes are now awake
From my heaviness sleep
And I'm fully ready to face everything.
Keep staying positive
I could have been a priest
Or an astronaut maybe
A president or a statesman at least
A poet could’ve easily been me
A professional athlete, or a shipmaster with a crew
What a proficient doctor I would’ve been
A **** good musician or a scientist too
Let alone being a chief archaeologist or something
Ended up being an ordinary man
Thousands of clients and their needs
As ordinary as a real-estate broker and
Been busy rusting with useless deeds.
Couldn’t figure it out to this day. How? Why?
And don’t know how to respond, either
Not much time left. Dad? Ma?
Or anybody else for that matter?
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