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through the roughest of waters
drifting to harsh unknown lands
my yellowed nails cling for dear life
to the god-blessed raft

such a ramshackle craft
through all my misfortunes and strife
guides me like my own mother’s hand
helping a foul seadog rotter
I used to believe I wanted to be like water.
Water that melds into any shape.
Water that is relaxing and peaceful.
Water that, when given enough time, can cut through anything.
But now I realize I want to be like fire.
Fire that gives warmth and comfort.
Fire that burns fast, creating its own path.
Fire that gives light in total darkness,
Giving you an opportunity to find your way out.
Water is used.
Fire is untamable.
Uzziah Ruffin Jun 22
Sitting in silence,
As the hourglass spills its golden grains,
Etching quiet warnings upon the souls in denial
A whisper that time is no eternal friend.

A choice still lingers,
Unmade, like a shadow at dusk
While silver threads replace youthful strands.
Age has no doorway to escape through, and the sand does little to muffle the ache that resurfaces with each turning of the glass.

To look back is to face the wreckage,
To rebuild from embers we once chose to ignore.
But fear looms
Fear that old chains will return
Forged now in guilt, fear, and empathy
Elements far heavier than iron,
Stripping away the illusion of freedom.

A battle brews between vital organs
The heart pleads for what’s right,
The mind demands what’s wise.
Yet the line that once divided them
Fades like breath on glass,
Too blurred to tell apart.

How long can indecision linger
Before the choice is taken
From hands still warm with life?
This poem is a rather personal one for me. It's the consequences of being a SA victim and losing a entire family due to years of being silent and pretending that everything is fine just to keep branches on the family tree attached. But the place that was once called home was always looked at as a prison. The poem is about making the decision to go back into a life of isolated feelings and self destructive to have a family, or to stay free while the mind and the heart fight to tell you to make the right/smart decision
Cadmus Jun 16
They asked me once,
“Why do you always take the hard path?”

I said,
“It’s not that I choose it
It’s just the only path I see.”

Not all of us are given options.

Some roads are rough
because that’s all there is.
Sometimes, life doesn’t offer a choice between easy and hard - it simply gives a road, and we walk it.
Ali Hassan May 29
Three roads once lay before my eyes,
Beneath the sweep of silent skies.
The first was wide—a golden lane,
Where countless walked to dodge all pain.

It rang with laughs, with joy and cheer,
A life designed to mask all fear.
With rules to follow, dreams pre-made,
Where comfort kept the truth delayed.

The second glowed, but few would tread,
Where thinkers dwelled and logic led.
They questioned deep, they reasoned well,
But stayed within a guarded shell.

They built their truths with thought and care,
Yet never leapt beyond the air.
For all they saw, they feared the cost
Of seeking more, or being lost.

The third was cloaked in breath of shade,
A road where light and meaning fade.
No stars above, no voice, no guide—
Just silence stretched on either side.

It seemed I stood with choice in hand,
But deep inside, I’d never stand.
The first road smiled with soft deceit—
A velvet lie beneath my feet.

It offered peace, a gentle chain,
With dreams that dulled the edge of pain.
But in that ease, my fire grew thin—
A quiet death beneath the skin.

The second shone with sharpened grace,
But held me bound in one still place.
A cage of mind, of bright control,
That fed the brain, but starved the soul.

They lit the dark, but feared to leap,
So clung to truths they chose to keep.
They stood so close to something true,
But feared what change would make them do.

The third—it bled, it bit, it burned,
And showed me truths I’d never learned.
Each breath was torn, each step left scar—
A trail that broke but led me far.

No cheers ahead, no lights behind,
Just hollow winds and thoughts unkind.
Yet in the silence, sharp and clear,
I felt a voice the brave don’t hear.

It warned, “This road will lead to none.
It breaks the soul, it leaves you done.”
But pain revealed what fear had masked—
And so I walked, no questions asked.

No end in sight, no promised land,
Just storms that tore through where I stand.
Yet through the wreckage, fierce and true,
The shattered path was pulling through.

So let me fade, without a sound—
No song, no stone, no hallowed ground.
Though I vanish, lost and gone,
I walked the path that led me on.
I wonder,
I ponder,
The path I need to take.

I march my way in grassy fields,
To see what I can make.

I trod here,
Trod there,
I trod to find my stake.

For each path hurts its own,
Each path has its wake.

I hike thee,
I climb free,
A mountain I should quake.

The paths are getting harder now,
I tremble and I break.

A wall here,
A crack here?
I must find flaws I forsake.

Each wall built that blocks my path,
Brick by brick I take.

Now a bend,
Sweet end,
The last is not fake.

My journey had gone coming quick,
It is final, my sake.
A journey each takes.
Sam S Apr 4
Choose places where your spirit feels seen,
where smiles rise before you speak,
and silence isn’t heavy with judgment.
That’s where your soul rests.

Take the longer road.
The one with curves,
pauses,
moments of stillness.
It teaches more.
It lasts longer.

One summit is only a step
toward the next.
Keep walking.
Keep wondering.
The journey never ends…
and that’s the beauty of it.

If the path ahead is unclear,
don’t turn back.
Some of the best things
can’t be seen from the start.
Surprise lives there.
So does growth.

Be mindful of your garden.
Your peace is soil.
Don’t let chaos plant roots
where calm is trying to grow.

Joy is not found in the finish.
It grows in the in-between,
in footsteps without applause,
in becoming without needing to be seen.
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