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Khoi Oct 2022
Cruel fell from the sky
even the midwives
left us then, to die.
Black-eyed battered beauty
a withered wick
on a burning stick
I made a choice
the child my duty
tiny eyes a crying delight
I kept the baby
I followed her/his light.

Everybody came from somebody
came from God came from Mary.
you talk the talk can,
you walk the walk
talk is a manner’s talk of manner
you talk the manner can you walk the manner
a man’s manner is a man’s moral
you talk the moral can you walk the moral
talking is a cheap moral

talking is a cheap manner
moral is a cheap talk
moral is a cheap manner
talking is cheap,walking is highly
talking is cheap,walking is highly walking
talking is highly talking
talking is highly a manner of talking

talking highly is talking cheap
talking highly is walking the walk
cheap is highly a cheap talk
walking cheap is talking cheap
walking cheap is walking the cheap walk
walking cheap is walking the cheap talk
talking is talking a cheap walk
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words from the renaissance for instance words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc... this poem is about talk is talking a cheap walk. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
Nicx Feb 2022
Words fail me
I don't know what I feel
I want to fade to nothing
And let the silence consume me
So many perspectives
I don't know which is true
Maybe all of them are
But then what?
They tell me I'm good
While my guilt swallows me whole
Rule one is do no harm
And I've shattered that
They say it's being a human
And I guess that's true
But if I can do anything to help
Then I'd like to
Where is that fine line
Between values and pain?
I don't owe it to them
But I feel like I do
If getting burned makes it better
At what point do I quit?
Do I hand over the matches?
Soak my soul in gasoline?
Pain for pain seems so fair
I made mistakes and I have to own them
But does letting myself burn
Really help anyone?
They say I cannot
That is because I do not
Not because I have done not
Yeah!
They know not
Because they've seen not
They don't know...
It's a beast in chains
Chains of experience
When people see you not doing the things they do, they conclude you're dull or you lack the energy to do. Little do they know that experience has changed you.
Avram Apr 2021
To indulge in the material essence of existence is merely
an unprecedented irregulation of decency in societal morality,
Amongst such atrocities...
as encumbering other souls with the repercussions of one's indulgence in humanities frailty.

Two spirits, two fragments each constructing two individuals intertwine in a symphony sung by emotion, composed by intuition to establish a harmonious equilibrium,
have their bond lacerated deeply by the Monarch of Anarchy,
the essence of desperation as well as destruction of such constructs,
envy.

Is such *******,
as the likes of pure instinct for survival and thrift
the culprit behind
why we envy?

Is it not a moral felony to practice such anti-altruistic politics,
against our own kin, even brethren?
Or is it the sole reason that by those who envy,
ambition is also ensnared, engraved in their hearts?
Indulgence in any principle is far from pure,
as all can be connected into a single sin,
cycling back to indulgence herself.

So why,
Why does envy,
Entertain such diversity as opposed to others of its nature?
I'm not really capable of using rhymes when I'm really invested into what I'm writing as I tend to focus to capture the essence of what I'm writing, so I hope I can be forgiven :) .
Jon Jan 2021
When I was young
It was all for me

The ideas of my friends
And the thoughts of the old
The things that brought me to my knees
And finally the one that built me up

The love of the perfect
And sooner
And for longer
Their desperate absence

I took on the words of the weak
As they flexed their muscle
And I drank with friends
And talked about this

Now as my eyes do not see as well as I remember
I know what is right
But far better
What is good
DAVID Jan 2021
As i wake up, and
The sun gets gently
To mi eyes, i become
Aware Of your
memorie, i blush and
Breath inspired

And the second minutes
awake, your scent comes
As an ocean Wave, Of Loved
By you memories, and

Mi nose become aware,
Of the feeling you provoque
And the loved perfume
Takes the beating heart,
To a new heigth, that never


Felt before, between the
Trust and your loved eyes, is
Your perfect stomach calling
To me, come and Kiss me,
your Body Said, and the loved
song, And the chosen Path

Trying awake in the Path,
Become AWAKEN, as i beastly
Make love to you, and this day Even feeling a litle scared Of this
Feeling Of love

As an iceberg, i pass threw,
life and games, pasión and
dasdein, loneliness and pain
To this loved by u state, i let
that go this afternoon, trying
With scientifc proofs,

I could live without your eyes,
To feelings that never where, and stories that i never live, but your eyes and the loved sensación are stronger than the artist pose, and the stoic Warrior state Of mind, So much for
This samurai at your feet.

Aware Of how dependent Of
You im becoming, i could let
It all go, but i cannot left you,
As a yunkie Of your eyes, and
adicted to you state Of mind

Never feel unsure Of mi love,
never felt this need Of somebudy,
Forever loving you state Of play, and The nigths with you become heaven, and  your'e  so BEAUTIFUL inside,
And (hot as friendly faces) that walk Next to me.


So just Be sure, your'e the loved one, That free and unatached to
Anything ir anybudy, i could only
if you choose it, let you go.

So fully AWAKEN  i'm,
becoming day by day,
As i LOVE YOU come and goes on our way, and On the terms we bouth choose, Nothing and no one execpt you, Could make me away from you,


And the blessed feellings you provoque, and the almost pain
i could almost feel, as your feet
Stumble to creeps, and i could almost let you go,  but the love and care
You awake in me, are a surprise,

As a loved man, or a chained
beast, i could usted to this, kind
Of dependance u make me feel,
The sensatión Of you Next to me.
i am what i am,
to i wish i wasn't
but glad i am
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rc0jyQgbxqQ&t=6s
work is working maturity
work is working manhood
manhood work manhood to a maturity
manhood is a working maturity
maturity work maturity
maturity work manhood
manhood work manhood

mankind work mankind
mankind work humankind
moral work moral
moral work moral to mankind
moral is mankind working moral
moral is mankind working maturity
moral is mankind working manhood

honor is a working honor
honor is a working maturity
honor is a working moral
honor is a working manhood
mankind honor mankind to a working honor
mankind is humankind working honor
mankind is a working honor of mankind
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc… this poem is about the factor of moral,the factor of maturity,and the factor of manhood. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
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