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Pooja Jajoo Aug 9
Knock knock
Get up, it's 5.40A.M.

The tired soul
Woke up, half awoken.

Sweat her out
That fresh air on her face
Those cold winds blowing her hair from right to left

It's 7.00 a.m
She rushed to shower
Groomed her hair up

It's 8.30
Felt not to go,
But those eyes dragged her out.

Tired Soul
Rushed to office..

That work load made her overtired
Those lunch break where she could heal

It's 5.30 P.M..
It's time to head back to home
Undressed her in and out
Scribbled her thoughts away.

Tired Soul ..
went to sleep again
Went to sleep again.

-Pooja Jajoo✍
Lillian May Feb 18
The
          sometimes
          tremulous
glimpses of surprise,
I think
     what a book it would make.

I hear the late afternoon cheer
         the honest type
somewhere                                                          
                  lurking behind
                                old Sixth Avenue Road.
I suppose
it is not just a phenomenon of nature that goes instinctively on,
not the appalling detail of any large human scheme, eroded by schedules
But I accept it as one of the miracles.
(Which I never see anywhere else)
Destiny C Oct 2018
I can yell at my pen,
pull at my hand,
but there's no words this paper can comprehend.
My thoughts are stuck in a box,
stubbornly clustered together,
not willing to talk.
I try to persuade them,
but they crave my inner creativity,
not the monotonous reality I live in.
They want to dance in the rain,
swim in the ocean,
or even find a mysterious love potion.
But I can't take them there -
I don't know how to piece them together,
It is as if my artistic streak vanished in thin air.
Nick Strong Oct 2018
One by one,
We trudge
In the opposite direction
To the place we want to go
Work, Work, Work,
Press the button,
Again, Again, Again
Spaced intervals
Nine minutes
Fifty nine seconds
Not a nano less,
Not a second more

Big Red button
Press, Press, Press
Until the End
Daylight dies
One by One
We trudge
Back the Path we came
another sunset
Precedes another dawn

One by One
We trudge again
treadmill of drudgery
Work, Work, Work
Nine fifty seven
Nine fifty eight
Press
Press the Big red button
At the Stress Mine

One by one
Trudging onwards
Souless, goaless
Encased in vulcanised rubber
Protected against
radioactive
melt down
Chemical disintegration
Sneezes on this hive of workers
Press, Press Press
The button

Two by Two
Thoughts flow
Under the dim wattage
State controlled home lighting
Press, Press Stop
Don’t press the button
Would it make any difference to the
One by one daily trudge

Three by Three
The terror rises
Stop Pressing
The spinning top world
Would stop.
Anya Sep 2018
In second grade I got
an honorable mention
In the piano state

For those of you who don’t know
This competition has a first place,
I’ve forgotten the name
Runner up
And honorable mention
Below that was a 1
And a 2

I don’t know if
Only a certain number could
Be in each category
But I did know for each age level
There was certainly more than one

Either way, I was excited
Pleased

The next year,
I got a 1

The year after that,
I broke down crying
Thoroughly
Unprepared
And got a 2

The year after
I got a 1

The year after
I got a 1

The year after
I got a 1

The year after
I got a 1

And no that was not a mis
Type
That was really how it was

I switched piano teachers
And vowed I’d do better this time
But I spent most of my summer
Out of town
And I didn’t get the practice
I needed

The year after
I got a 1

This year,
I’m participating
Once again

And I’m tired
At the monotony of it all

But,
Can I actually
Overcome my laziness and time restrainsts and practice
The amount I need?
Piyush Gahlot Jul 2018
I don't know why,
My feelings have died,
I am a ******' rock,
May be I have felt too much,
That I started to feel nothing.

Nothing seems new,
Nothing appears exciting.
May be this just happens with age,
Or may be I am just too bored of everything.
Everything feels less, everything feels void.

Morning breeze is chilling no more,
Rain doesn't wet me anymore,
Holi appears colourless,
Diwali not so illuminating any more.
Festivals now only means a holiday.
Outings are not so exciting.
***** doesn't effect me much.

What is it , does that happens with everyone or is it just me.!?
Where's all that excitement gone,?
Life has become monotonous and everything is blown!

What I need is a CHANGE.!
Monotonous routine
Take a look around you,
Look at the room you're in,
Are you happy?
Do you recognise yourself.

Paint a page of your past,
Write a word that infuses you with life.
Here you're, looking at you through the invisible glass,
This is what it must feel like:
To be free,
To spread your feathers willingly into the storm,
To gaze at that elusive light;
For once, to look in the mirror and not deceive yourself.

Traverse further in time,
Can you find yourself?
All of what you're, had been staring at you,
Your eyes had predicted this,
You were just to adamant to grant them true sight,
Blurring them;
Always escaping to your poisons
Living life in flashes, satisfying your convoluted mind.
Are you happy?

Here you're, back where you lie
Realising the gravity of this time,
Wishing you could run as fast as you would,
You want to, you see,
You want to outrun your shadow,
But here you're seeking substitutes,
and pleased with yourself.
Hoping someone deciphers your pain from your being
Shares it, alleviates it.
For here you're, always stuck in between
these familiar walls.
Josiah Wilson May 2018
Breathe in
Breathe out
Monotone, dull, routine
Get up, dress, work

Flash a smile
Drop a laugh
Don't let anyone
Not one, see

Behind this mask I'm dead
Breathing isn't a sign of life
Not anymore
I move, I work, I talk

But it's robotic
Autopilot
Happiness, joy, fulfillment
Sadness, grief, pain

Gone
Replaced by
Grey
Maria Etre Oct 2017
There is no wrong
in falling foolishly
for the things
that make you feel alive
as there is no greater feeling
than a beating heart
that still
simply
beats
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