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Io! Maestro dell'essere,
mente a scacchi,
pronta a muovere la prossima pedina
con apatia e ordine. Ordine.

Non implorerò, mai, di avere
un nuovo paio di occhi
che non vedano in bianco e nero,
magari solo meno ingenui, idioti.

Ormai non mi vedo più nello specchio:
spalle, alzate.
Schiena, inarcata.
Capo chino. Pietoso. Indegno!

** già tutto quello che mi serve:
mani di pietra e velluto,
una fronte, rugosa, che parla,
risate tra il folle, e il nobile. Nobile.

///

Me! Master of being,
chess mind,
ready to move the next pawn
with apathy and order. Order.

I will, never, beg to have
a new pair of eyes
that do not see in black and white,
maybe just less naive, idiotic.

I no longer see myself in the mirror:
shoulders, raised.
Back, arched.
Head bowed. Pitiful. Unworthy!

I already have everything I need:
hands of stone and velvet,
a forehead, wrinkled, that speaks,
laughter between the madman, and the noble. Noble.
When you know yourself, you can start love your evilness
baby, don't
misunderstand

internal
struggles
are a mess

all i've got
is hope

that one day,
i'll find solid
ground

so i can return
to myself

and safely land.

return to sender,
i will not surrender;

this postcard is
a testament.

i promise you that
my will is strong,

and i will find
solace and center

because
i didn't make
it this far

to give up
on a future
together,

forever.

so baby, please
understand

internal
struggles
are a mess.

all i've
got is hope

and my word
that one day,

i'll return
to myself

and safely land.
inspired by nsync’s “this i promise you.”

a poem about loving someone deeply—even while fighting to return to yourself.

this is a promise written in the quiet.
Chris Apr 15
I hear the feet steps rush past me
It's a daily occurrence but I'm tired
Of given attention to those that hear me
But can never see me as I am
Stuck in reverse where I look to the past
Beging to be looked passed
Screaming banging on this wall of glass
To be set free from my unrequited sanctuary
It's my own fault I quarantined myself
Was it for self preservation
or simply outta fear
to get near
what I can't understand
Or preservation from all this anguish
The past refuses to release me from
I don't mean to be who I am
Do you not understand me?!?
Or did I never give you that opportunity
All I won't is unity
To hold your hand in mine
To be given love so divine
But how can I ask for that
When I'm stuck behind my house of glass
Waiting to be shattered
Yet I have no stones to throw for that matter
Please just try let me
be seen through to my core
But I do want to show you so much more
Push pass my past
I'm my own worst enemy
I can't deny that fact the mirror mocks me
My reflection distorted
A faceless figure of who I believe is me
Screaming....screaming....stop screaming
My ears are bleeding
I don't mean to be who I am
Please believe me
I never wanted to hurt you
I know my silence is deafening
But it's my only mask I have
Tragic as it is I'm my own nightmare
Trapped hiding behind my wall of glass
That only reflects the things I can't get past
Do you understand?!?
I don't mean to be who I am
I scream again
It's useless I been like this for years
I say through my eyes pooling with tears
Drowning in my own demise
Why can't I get past this disguise
I never wonted to be alone
By this self inflicted fate
Because I push anyone that might
Break my glass
My hellish sanctuary
That protects me?!?
from what.....
Something i no longer desire
See me look pass my distorted image
If I let you......
I will let you
Do you understand?!
Just please hold my hand
An promise me this
That I truly won't die alone
Cuz all I require is unity
Someone to understand
Can you Understand?!?




                      PLEASE......
Writen by my girlfriend.
Ahmed Gamel Apr 14
I met a version of myself,
A past that lived in quiet hell,
His shoulders weighed with untold truths,
In his eyes, the ghosts of youth.

He stood, proud but lost inside,
A prisoner of dreams denied,
I knelt in shame, a ghost of me,
Torn between what was and could be.

"You know," I said, "you've been this way,
Caught in a cage where shadows play,
But let me tell you, now I see,
You're still inside of me, and free."

He smiled with pain, the truth untold,
"I never wanted this, you know—
This life of striving to please the blind,
The masks we wore, the thoughts we mined."

But in his eyes, I saw the change,
A flicker in the dark, so strange,
And I realized, as time flew past,
We'd both been caught, both built to last.

Now here I stand, no more a slave,
No longer bound to past’s dark wave,
I freed myself, and freed him too,
The shackles gone, the world anew.

And though the road remains unclear,
I hold his voice, I hold it near,
For in his steps, I see my own—
The strength I’ve sought, now fully grown.

The shame, the guilt, they start to fade,
Replaced by light, by love’s cascade,
And in that moment, I finally see,
That all I sought was always me.
This piece delves into the internal struggle of reconciling with past mistakes and the weight of self-imposed expectations. The conversation between present and past selves brings out the complexity of personal growth and the forgiveness needed to move forward. It's about understanding that even in the darkest moments, there's a path to healing—by embracing the truth, forgiving yourself, and realizing that growth is a journey, not an instantaneous transformation.
Ahmed Gamel Apr 13
I chased a river that flowed not for me,
A desert thirst, in need of a touch,
But it never quenched, nor did it set me free—
A ghost of water, the hollow's crutch.

Yet still I ran, for the race was the relief,
And the thirst was never gone,
The closer I came, the deeper my grief,
But I knew, I knew, I had to move on

One side craves the fleeting touch,
Another longs for something real,
Both of them, a tangled clutch,
Waging war inside my mind's steel.

I feel the pull, the burn, the tug,
Both sides whispering to my soul—
One says, "Stay," the other says, "Let go,"
And I am left, alone, with no control

The screen glows with false embrace,
A fleeting balm to soothe my pain,
A world of warmth in pixel’s grace,
But as it fades, so does the gain.

The comfort, fleeting, like morning mist,
It wraps me up, then fades away—
But in that warmth, my heart persists,
To search for solace, come what may

Beyond the Glass
I seek a hand I cannot touch,
A voice that whispers through the screen,
In virtual spaces, I crave so much,
The love I’ve never yet seen.

But still, I reach, I yearn, I chase,
For something more than pixel's light—
I long to find a sacred space,
Where hearts can meet beyond the night

What am I but fragments, torn,
Pieces scattered in the dust?
I need to rebuild, from what I’ve mourned,
Relearn the way, and find the trust.

I see the cracks, but there’s no fear,
Only a chance to fill the space—
To build anew, to reappear,
To find my strength, to find my place

A clash of needs, a war of wants,
One says to chase the fleeting thrill,
Another urges, “Wait, be strong,”
The heart is torn, the soul stands still.

For what is comfort but a cage?
And what is pain but growth’s sweet sting?
To choose the short-term for the wage,
Or face the future, and let it sing?

I wander through the uncertain haze,
The road unknown, but filled with choice,
A path unmarked, in shadowed maze,
I seek a light, I seek a voice.

What is it all, but one grand test?
The answers fade before my eyes—
But in the struggle, in the quest,
I find the truth beneath the lies

I stare into the glass that cracks,
And find a face I do not know—
The cracks are me, but not the facts,
The truth is hidden in the glow.

Who am I, when all is gone?
A shadow lost, a broken dream?
But in the void, I carry on,
For in my mind, I still may gleam.
This poem explores the profound struggle between seeking temporary comforts and the longing for deeper, meaningful connections. It reflects on the internal battle we often face when seeking relief from pain, yet realizing that those quick fixes don’t fulfill our true desires for growth and real connection. It’s an honest dive into the complexities of human emotions, inner conflict, and the search for something more lasting in a world full of fleeting distractions.
Stardust Apr 11
This consistent need to change
This burning desire to be better
Am I slowly changing for good
Or is it good that I am changing ?
I think a lot, speak a little
I dream a lot, act a little
This constant void that I feel in my Life
Why, why, why, I think to myself yet again
Caught in this trap of monotonous mind battles
A glimpse into the quiet chaos within — a dance between dreams, doubts, and the desire to grow.
Ana21 Apr 4
I wear the mask of too many roles,
Caretaker, rebel—lost in their tolls.
I give, I bend, but never break,
Hiding parts of me for others' sake.

I ask myself, "Is this enough?"
Is my best a gift, or a never-ending bluff?
I wonder if they see the cracks inside,
The parts of me I’ve tried to hide.

When things go wrong, I pull away,
Lost in regret, in a sea of dismay.
I cry, I doubt, I ask, “Why me?”
Stuck in the same cycle, never free.

I fear they’ll see me as a lie,
Fake, rude, disloyal—just a disguise.
But deep within, I know the truth,
I hide, I shrink, to avoid the proof.

I suppress the honesty, the raw, the real,
For fear they’ll judge what they can’t feel.
I keep my truth locked far away,
A prisoner of my own dismay.

Isolation brings a fleeting peace,
But it’s the silence that won’t cease.
With the few who truly see,
I try to feel what it means to be me.

But even in those moments, I fear,
That I’ll be left, unseen, unclear.
So I wonder, in the quiet of night,
Am I enough, or just a fight?

I don’t know what my purpose is yet,
But in this struggle, I’ve learned to forget.
I’m supposed to lead, but all I see,
Are the shattered pieces of who I could be.

I carry self-doubt and endless strain,
Validation from others, my constant chain.
But in the dark, I’m left to roam,
Wishing for a place to call home.
This reflects the internal struggle of feeling torn between roles, doubting one's worth, and fearing judgment. It explores the weight of emotional isolation, the constant search for validation, and the silent yearning to break free from self-imposed chains. The rawness of vulnerability and the quiet longing for peace echo throughout. It’s a reflection on the pain of self-doubt and the struggle to find one’s authentic voice.
Emilia Apr 2
I find my life to be a puzzle
And you often might to
And that's something that might make me
A little more like you
Puzzles cannot be the same
Or else they'd be no fun
And sometimes life may seem the same
Until the day is done
The puzzles in life are hard to solve
And I’m sorry to say
That, that’s the thing about life
It won’t get better on the way.
Sometimes life feels like a puzzle that you just can't put together no matter how hard you try. but in the end your going to find the right piece and its all going to click. One day its going to happen, I promise.
Lalit Kumar Apr 1
When the sorrow you kept inside starts to burn in a cigarette,
When a genius of science starts writing poems,
And when someone who never listens to anyone starts listening to poems,

With a laptop bag on my shoulder,
Far from home, in a strange city, at a station,
When I see a child crying in his mother’s lap,
I smile and remember my own home,
That’s when life makes sense.

When sleep gets lost in the dark pits under your eyes,
That’s when life makes sense.
When you face words like rent, ration, electricity, and water,
When a fearless heart begins to feel a little scared,
When the burden of home responsibilities starts weighing on your shoulders,
That’s when life makes sense.

When the one who once cried to get a toy,
Now smiles but takes the wounds,
When someone with a heart of stone is broken like a flower,
When someone more precious than life leaves you alone on the road,
That’s when life makes sense.

When making friends seems more difficult than staying alone,
When a dried rose kept in a diary feels more important,
When someone you see in the mirror feels like a stranger,
That’s when life makes sense.

When you want to cry but can’t,
When you grow so big that in the middle of family fights,
You stand firm and when someone asks, “Is everything okay?”
And you say, “Everything’s fine,”
That’s when life makes sense.

When the lie spoken by your lips
Is revealed as truth by someone’s eyes,
When the dreams of someone get devoured by the crowd around them,
When the silence in the room shouts loudly in your ears,
That’s when life makes sense.

When you realize that nothing is like the destination,
When you understand that there’s no destination like the one imagined,
There’s only the road, far and wide,
When the day doesn’t begin even after the sun rises,
When nothing works the way you want it to,
When a grand house has no one to call home,
That’s when life makes sense.

When the moon doesn't show the marks of aging,
When the moon doesn’t show the imperfections and stains,
When the tunes of songs fade into the words of the songs,
When the tears saved all day fall onto the pillow,
That’s when life makes sense.

When coming home on time in the evening seems right,
When the sorrow you kept inside starts to burn in a cigarette,
When a genius of science starts writing poems,
And when someone who never listens to anyone starts listening to poems,

That’s when life makes sense.
That’s when life makes sense.
Love, **** it, still doesn’t make sense.
The line between madness,
The line between normality,
The price to pay for loneliness;
I ought to pay with sincerity.

In a world of madness,
The normal are insane,
The right are arcane,
And the abused are ridiculed by sadness.
I ought these days to go aflame,
For now, my madness, needs no blame.
There is no notes to be.
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