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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
Heeranshi Mishra Oct 2017
Laying on the bed,
I felt depressed so bad.
Staring at the ceiling my life seems monotonus.
I felt the urge I need to adjust the colour tone.
I grabbed the car keys ; and left,
For a long drive that is sweet and swift.
The cold breeze through the windows were like a drifter,
Nature was calling me, to be more closer.
I stopped the car, near a river bank,
Sat there and my legs were half sank.
My feet felt a tingling feeling,
And I continued to steal those moments.
Every wave, made me feel liberated abd I continued the stealing.
I went to walk bare foot, left my sandals
A wild wind came, and blew my hairstrands.
It felt more alive, like I revived me.
I returned home after a short meeting with nature,
I was laying on my  bed,
Now, I felt no bad.
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Sheenanigans Jun 2017
All she got was
Messy hair,
Old soul,
Wild heart,
a monotonous life,
and the same old,
old feeling.
7:47 am June 18, 2017
Flo Apr 2016
Like the songs on the radio
My life became very drab
I am trapped, caged in stability
The unexpected went missing

How I wish the old times back
Excitement, Adventures
No responsibilities tying me down
And every day a new song on the radio
Stability is necessary, security is good
but aren't those the reason we're detaining
ourselves from living life to the fullest?
Beau Grey Apr 2016
I've been lost in time
these last few months -
with clocks that won't tock
and days that won't stop.
And I was happy.
Or maybe a little too comfortable.
It's all the same -
because the sun won't always shine
and you can't stop the rain.
But time will always find you
and I'm here now.
So where are you?
Are you hiding too?
Running from the monotonous chime -
the one that dictates your waking
and your slumber -
your not so silent slumber.
Trapped within the walls of time,
is this living?
Or is this death?
It doesn't matter,
the trees will still grow
either way.
And I'm here now -
I wear bells now -
to throw that monotonous chime
out of time.
So where are you?
Do you wear bells too?
I don't weep -
no, I don't cry.
Because tears don't harmonise
with the monotonous chime.
Manisha Uniyal Nov 2015
A drop of even
with a hint of odd
continue fighting
without a thoughtful nod

as long as one is one
and two is two
religion works
and spreads like flu

question rises
and beliefs are shaken
when even hides
and odds awaken


The tunnel of light
and the ray of hope
suddenly turns dim
and difficult to cope

odd shines
alone in crowd
even dies
Sleeping in proud

Here even refers to daily routine ,regular action .
Odd is out of the league,  different,  not following the herd
Lukoje Oct 2015
In five years I will
be half-way to the horizon.
Exactly where I am now,
yet in a different place.

I'll always choose the third door
and probability will be on my side.

In ten years I will
be half-way to the horizon.
With so much progress,
and nothing to show it.

I'll always argue for my opinion
and there will be a chance I'm right.

In twenty-five years I will
be half-way to the horizon.
Maybe I'll have company,
but I could be alone.

I'll always make direct eye contact
with hope I don't look scared of you.

In fifty years I will
be half-way to the horizon.
And I will be able to stop.
Monotonous is his existence,
Repetition for the sake of routine.
He crushes his heart into a cage,
And hides from the world he can't see.
He builds up fear to satisfy his paranoia,
and watches as his fragile hands bleed.
Stained fingers brush away the curtain,
So he can see another scene.
Below him, puppets stare,
As he effortlessly rips reality.
Without a thought he lets out,
The darkness that remains unseen.
KZ Dec 2014
A cycle.
That's all it is.
Everything we do,
Is done again.
Everything we say,
is always the same.
But theres one thing that doesn't change,
Because nothing happens after that,
Some believe in the afterlife,
Some don't,
Either way,
We will be in a coffin,
Buried deep underground.*
And that would be it.
The end of a cycle!
:)nearly Christmas....londons cold
Kurt LaVacque Sep 2014

The word to describe the imminent danger that we seem to fall into, 
Once we become rhythmically sound, with whats going on, and is around
Just Us
And the world that we’ve been given
We shed, 
Still our dream seem to hide before they ever leave
And will never return
Unless we say 

Falling into the trap that we lay for ourselves
Wrapped up
Just children believe they are aloud to
Become robotic
Sitting on the table chair
Reading hieroglyphs
Under circumstances I declare
That the world is full of simple gifts
Its not the way the we should,
Its not the kind that looks good, on just anybody
Especially me and my family
As we run on the treadmill trying to step further into the sea
But the emptiness, isn’t as clean as I hoped it would be
I still feel things
You know what I mean

Like the way we walk down the side walk
Talking to the trees tripping over rocks
While selling some ****, in your ***** bathroom socks
We can only bring so much attention
To the walls that hold all of our attention
Just long enough to sing the melody
We’ve already heard too much
We understand, but never plan to do anything about it
We allow it
We fall into it
We talk about
But we’re still stuck
Lost in the grip that never loosens
Which will hide the fact that we’re all held in nooses
Being told what to choose
And who loses

But thats not what I would like to see
While I sit on the fence post waiting for the final killing spree
We are not free
And I still see double when I think about the vet
If I was a dog and had an allergic reaction to some chocolate
It seemed worth it
The pay check I receive seems worth it
When returning to the cushy 1 bed room apartment that I sleep in 
On occasion
I seldom listen 
To just the radio stations
Just to have a little peace 
From the monotony that never seises
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