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Sydney Jul 2019
I’m afraid
I’m afraid to breathe the air for fear of what’s in it
I’m afraid of protection because protection can also mean death
I’m afraid to hear, hear cries of children missing their parents
I’m afraid to see, see bad things happen to good people
I’m afraid of the sky, because it browns
I’m afraid of the ground because nothing grows
I’m afraid of the water because I can drink it while others can’t
I’m afraid to eat because of the poison I’ve already eaten
I’m afraid of the broken, for fear it can’t be fixed
I’m afraid
There’s a lot to be said here but it’s how I truly feel, afraid. I don’t think it’s right that people are in fear of police who are “meant” to protect and serve. Or the fact that we don’t always know what’s going on, and the state of the planet is deteriorating because some people just don’t care anymore. So that’s it. I hope you enjoy this poem and all that it means and stands for.
memoona kazmi Mar 2019
maturity is when you,
stop making people happy,
and start doing,
what makes you happy.....
You said we could do it all together
Or was it only I who remembered?
That night in the middle of October
When you told me that I mattered
But for how long will I be that person?
Before you choose to leave me behind
But as I expected the situation worsen
And soon you left these arms of mine
How I wished the time could turn back
Maybe I could fix what was broken
Or even stop it from the day we met
To stop the words from being spoken
Those three words aren't enough

Life that we know, is not, as we think it is  

In the present we miss at times, both
what could have been and what will be

as from the drawers of our lives we
pull out and savour memories while
riding the illusion of replacing time

but sometimes forgetting  that the past
drawn to the present will not sustain
and eventually recede to allow for the
flow of time future to find it’s age, and

life will remain a short tenancy with
a changing lease that time witnesses
without interference at every birth
and in the process we learn a few true
things as time tells your mind’s despair ----  

why lament,  life’s canvas was empty
at birth and will return to it’s state
when you leave, as you brought nothing
and will take nothing, but will leave
behind your life’s colours on my being
to hold  for posterity, as divined in time.

Micah G Nov 2018
A dark bull mesquite
Old and strong and wise and good
Dies for expansion
What must we sacrifice for the expansion of our urban jungles?
Marie-Lyne Oct 2018
Everything matters
Even the little things
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