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Bury the past behind, live the life of the current moment.

Love the
moment and
cherish the
present time,
can only
hope' for
but is uncertain.

Because no
man knows
what tomorrow
the future
is born put
the past in
the casket.

Tomorrow's unfold just
got to open
the mind and
realize on a
real eyes
where that
hidden potentials
and how to
and turn them
to fortune.

talents are hidden underneath
the soil of a
man's mind.

Mining the
which are
invisible to
the naked
eye to
Requires a sanely sensitive creative
gazes what
the brain thinks.
Mystic Ink Plus Nov 2020
Dedicated to those
Whose heart doesn't only pump the blood
But feels something more

Thank you
Genre: Abstract
Theme: The Next Question
𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒅 π’Žπ’š 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆 π’ˆπ’π’π’†?
π‘΄π’š π’•π’π’π’Šπ’„ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆  π’”𝒐𝒖𝒍
𝑨 𝒅𝒐𝒛𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆, π’Žπ’š 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 π’˜π’†π’π’• π’˜π’Šπ’π’…
π‘΄π’š 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒔 π’•π’‰π’π’–π’ˆπ’‰π’• 'π’•π’˜π’‚π’” 𝒂 𝒇𝒐𝒆

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒅 π’Žπ’š 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆 π’ˆπ’π’π’†?
π‘΄π’š π’„π’‚π’π’Žπ’Šπ’π’ˆ 𝒄𝒖𝒑 𝒐𝒇 π’‰π’‚π’‘π’‘π’Šπ’π’†π’”π’”
π‘ͺ𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰 π’”π’‘π’π’–π’“π’ˆπ’†π’…
π‘΄π’š π’ƒπ’π’…π’š 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 π’π’Šπ’”π’•π’π’†π’”π’”

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒅 π’Žπ’š 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆 π’ˆπ’π’π’†?
𝑨 π’‡π’Šπ’π’† π’‡π’“π’Šπ’†π’π’… 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 π’•π’Šπ’“π’Šπ’π’ˆ π’…π’‚π’š
π‘΄π’š π’”π’˜π’†π’‚π’• π’˜π’†π’π’• 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 π’ˆπ’‚π’Šπ’• π’˜π’π’ƒπ’ƒπ’π’†
π‘»π’‰π’Šπ’” π’˜π’π’“π’π’… 𝒂 π’‘π’†π’π’…π’–π’π’–π’Ž π’Šπ’ 𝒂 π’˜π’‚π’š

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐 π’Žπ’‚π’•π’•π’†π’“ π’‰π’π’˜ 𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 π’•π’π’…π’‚π’š
𝑰'𝒍𝒍 π’‚π’π’˜π’‚π’šπ’” π’π’π’π’Œ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 π’Žπ’š 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆
π‘·π’“π’π’ƒπ’‚π’ƒπ’π’š π’•π’Šπ’” 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 π’π’π’π’š 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕
𝑭𝒐𝒓 π’„π’‚π’‡π’‡π’†π’Šπ’π’† 𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒔 π’π’Šπ’Œπ’† π’Žπ’†
Bryn Kennell Jul 2020
Lyrics of pain
A song so dark

She had no shield
Inhaled the words
Right into her heart

Melody severed
Just danced along
A tree in the wind
Enslaved to the song in her head
Alan Jun 2020
Impaled by a hunger
of apparent becoming
dead minds seek
success in the charade
the callous conquest
the greedy game.

An innocent credulity
conditionally conditioned
and without a vision
that which is doing
that which is done
dulled and desensitized.

Wholly ******
totally unholy
denuded of content
denuded of style.
A pebble smoothed over
by the waves of the world.

β€œOh, see the disquiet
into that infinite quiet!
The same **** space.”

Listen to the birds
spontaneous and sprightly
gliding through tonic silence
in to seek shelter
out to seek freedom.

An innocent credulity
in the bones of being
expansive, attentive
resisting nothing.
The transfigured
fount of moral vision.

To be sensitive
is to β€œsee the unself”
out of the me
out of the mine
into the real
into the world.
sensitivity is like a naked tooth on ice
Brian Yule Apr 2020
Relic of past aches
Gaze-blunted conversation
Brushed touch-me-not folds
Amanda Kay Burke Jan 2020
What the **** is wrong with crying?
Think tears are fine
To show emotions to you
Too scared so I hide mine
I wish you felt the same as I do about being sensitive
Rick Warr Dec 2019
i liked it the way you listened
i could tell by your eyes
and your smart questioning

i liked it that you had a sense of beauty
a quite relish for stillness
and the spirit in things

i liked it the way you cared
for people’s feelings
the hosting of your society
and your tender awareness of sensitivities

i liked your sense of humour
and interest in people’s bizarre stories
your relish for their secrets

but most of all

l liked it the way you touched me
going straight to parts
i didn’t even know that
set my soul on fire
electrifying my desire
writing to a memory
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