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Bongani Moyo Mar 2018
when I'm at my worst,
my mind doesn't hesitate to remind me,
that I am nothing more,
than a collection of whispered prayers and Pyrrhic victories.
To win and not feel like winning at all is a greater disappointment than losing when you cared most.
Destiny annalia Mar 2018
:):
they say censorship causes blindness,
id rather be blind than in this mindset
Vineetha Mar 2018
Through the chaos,
amongst the rummage,
with crammed up efforts,
toiling towards the certainty,
was my happiness boulevard to success.

I had it all figured,
or, so I assumed.
I wasn’t far from the complacency,
or, so I believed.
How often do things go as planned?
Yes, It was just a matter of time, until,
I was panned.

My fixed-mindset renounced failure,
I loathed my passion,
I decided for myself-“It’s not how it’s meant to be”.
Was I looking for an easy way out?
Did I interpret success as “never failing”?
Was I scorning the fact that I still had a chance?

What if I entered the growth-mindset?
Give it another shot to change things around,
pick-up from my past gaffe,
endeavour, or absorb from the failure again.

The journey might be arduous,
the goal might be too ambitious,
the path chosen might seem dubious and,
the success might never seem duteous.

Success is not the end,
neither is a failure.
If success opens the door for a new goal,
Failure instills that-
frustration is temporary, the experience is forever.
Ashley Hope Feb 2018
I think to love someone we have to break off a portion of our heart and give it to them.
then hope they give you their half to fill your void.
If not circulation is going to be difficult.
It's going to make blood harder to pump.
even if your lucky enough to get someones heart in return it's going to make you bleed differently. there's always going to be a crack in the middle of your chest.
you will never be whole you just have to hope their heart pumps harder. That their blood type matches yours.
again not a poem just my thoughts. as messed up as they may be.
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2018
Gifts and corporations do not equate love.
Although I admire a certain aspect.
The after effect.
Everything being restricted to one day.
Three-hundred sixty-four days in comparison.
To show how much you love, how much you care.
The simplicity of taking time out to do something special for the one you love
out of sheer appreciation.
Price tags don't include how vital it is to bask in the same breath as your loved one.
The amount of time it takes
Creating memories that outlive us.
The moments we constantly over-obsess
How could they, they are manufactured in the same manner of restriction.
Mass quantities of fluff and chocolate.
All ranging from big to small.
A single day that lasts three-hundred sixty-four days.
Love is the rarest commodity and it's all of these small moments
That create the most memories.
The after effect.
In actuality.
The real holiday is to see your face light up at all the discounted chocolate
as we celebrate each and every day
The same way we met
Three-hundred sixty-five days
Cobalt Jan 2018
So.
You wanna be a grown up.
You wanna learn how the world works,
And what to do to make it like you.
Well kid, first things first
(And you're hearing it from a fellow kid)
(So don't take my word as gospel)
But the world won't bend to you.
It won't accommodate you.
It won't care.
It's unyielding,
And, debatably,
Unforgiving.
(Depressing, right?)
But, kid,
None of that'll matter.
You have to take a leap of faith.
Go forth and go to art school,
Go and join the military.
Cut all your hair off,
And wear what you **** well please.
Kiss who you want and when you want,
And flip off the "very fine people" at Charlottesville.
Verbally decimate your cheating ex,
And stand up for the bullied kid.
Rise up, shout,
Make sure your bruises and your battle scars are heard across the globe.
You'll make a difference.
After all, you don't have to be a Ghandi or a King to change the world.

You just gotta be you.
PatrickHertveld Jan 2018
Carving stones below
Where tears go
Cherish anything
But a spring
Calm and dead
Anything but a flow
Tears follow
All is said
Beatriz Couto Dec 2017
How beautiful it is
how the Shepherd cares of his sheeps
with all his dedication and motivation
look at him...
look at the ******* Shepherd
he never fails to them
rather, he fails to his unknown world
what's a world without a quadrupedal, ruminant mammal ?
11.12.2017
Jikai Zheng Dec 2017
Yes, we can talk in secret
You brought me flowers?
Thank you

No, you're not like them
Not like the other guys
Yes, you're special

Why?
Well, you got a mole right there
No, the one on your forearm

Serious, though
I like your mindset
Open-minded

Oh, more?
I think you have the prettiest eyes
You blinked

Yes, I love them
Close my eyes?
Now, me

Really? Kind?
That's lame
Okay, fine

I do believe you
Cool, I'm cool
You, too

I'm down
We can go now
Yeah, just us
since becoming housed here since this year
july first two thousand and seventeen,
   tubby more precise where
with thee missus, amidst bucolic environs,
   (one could don underwear

Schwenksville, Pennsylvania  
   trees abundant with leaves of grass spare
zip cone: one nine four seven three,
   this resident doth not find queer

disproportionate amount of time,
   he spends never to overhear
the mostly soundproof walls
   inside apartment b44 assigned midyear,

one bedroom living social space
   gives ample opportunity to assess linear
ratcheting asper elderly folks inch along
   chronological space/time continuum
   fragile as jasperware  

many experience diminution
   of vital sensory organs, and oft time cannot hear
even without television blasting away,
   no doubt harboring anticipatory anxiey sans,

   grim reaper's unannounced visit they fear
their non verbal body language
   (when aye espy and stride-rite past,
   an old lady or man riding shot gun

   securely strapped in wheel chair,
   shuffling back where buffalo used to roam,
   or trudging to common
   all purpose gathering place)

   speaks volumes analogous to a frightened deer
when caught blindsided
   within bright lights of an automobile 'ere
unsure which way to go, and dashing out in the thick
   of evening rush hour traffic,

   lacking notion, the figurative coast not clear
subsequently doe ting bucks killed, where birds of prey
   thence loftily circle gracefully  
   gliding within upper atmospheric air

upon scrutinizing what doth appear
as a hollowed out existence induces me to de clear
to maximize utilizing each precious moment 'ere
before each major metaphorical cog and gear
frankly zaps, this dude looks like a lady,

   cuz ah ma longish bedraggled
   hydrogen peroxide tinted hair
me haint give a rats ***
   what rumor mongers relish, and behind me back jeer

Since old people lack for purposefulness tis unlike to leer
that one day (fast as snap of fingers),
   lack of being ambulatory t'will be near
and upon limitation in physical functionality,
   aye aim to app pear
motivated to partake of mental exercises
   just sitting on me rear.
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