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when the eyes come back
to shed tears,
I hope
it’s not a cry of remorse,
nor to let go.
Indonesia, 18th July 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Druzzayne Rika Dec 2020
It is feeling
the genuine one

The year I've been me
No pretense
No act
I was never fine,
I've seen me be scared me

The confidence coat I've shed
I can see the marks
where I've bled
It is all on open
I am healing this time.
Hussein Dekmak Mar 2020
From the womb of Coronavirus,
Comes the birth of a new human with a noble cause, a new purpose, a Renewed vision, and a new mentality, one that:

Listens to cries of the people, and lift their spirits.
Sheds tears over the innocent lives claimed.

Values close family ties, friendship, and recites a wishful prayer to
Alleviate the suffering of distressed souls.

Protects the elderly, takes care of their neighbor, shares meals with the Hungry, and renders services to others, expecting nothing in return.

The birth of a new human,
Who thinks, breathes, speaks and acts with kindness ,
Who’s molded from humility,
With a mind full of reflection, and a
Soft heart encompassed with love!

Hussein Dekmak
Edited 2
Tatiana Dec 2019
In a burrow a snake lies
to itself
about its health,
if lids could cover its eyes
then maybe that would help.
But scales have formed
where human lids
grow on kids,
and shivers have wormed
their way through its body.
When the time finally comes
to shed its skin
what's left within?
Will life's pleasant hums
attract it outside?
Or will the cycle start again?
What was soft, scaly, and thin
has hardened
against the cruel nature I've yet to pen.
The snake always leaves behind its skin.

What was within your skin?
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
You stripped my self worth,
dragged me into an ocean of fear,
left me feeling impure and touched.

I wish I could feel
innocent and pure once more.
I wish I could shed
this skin along with my past away.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
“It’s becoming tougher to love you every time you hurt me. It’s becoming tougher to trust you every time you betray me. It’s becoming tougher to be vulnerable every time you exploit me. It’s becoming tougher to lend you my heart when it feels like an open wound in your hand. You taunt me every opportunity you find, brag about my flaws occasionally, criticize and act cold at times. I am tired of visiting the restroom as though it is my sanctuary during occasions, shedding tears and walk out numbing my heart. We ought to be encouraging, loving and supporting one another and not pushing the other down to rise. But the heartaches are becoming often and old wounds are being reopened. It’s becoming tiring to experience it over and over again. I guess for it to not hurt anymore, it shouldn’t matter anymore.”
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