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Let's hold a silence now
For the caste we enslave
While we **** eachother
Let's save the space for grave.

Let's mourn together now
In the name of nature
While our death bed prepares
Let's save a social crater.

Let's cry together now
In the name of nation
While the society rots
Let's save our federation

Let's hold a last ritual now
For the dying will of humanity
While we all see the death
Of Love, peace and faternity
eve Sep 27
we communicate through the phone maybe once or twice a week
you uphold my financial status, but have no relative experience in raising me.
you claim to be a trying father, but your behavior never match up to your promises.
you think being a dad is a check off a ballot, an easy task to complete, truly believing that money will always compensate for happiness,
but imagine if you put as much thought into yelling and screaming at your mother when you get mad over the tiniest thing into realizing your beloved daughter, mamita linda, carries a heavy burden with her and on her shoulders each and every day.
she faces people who mock her in class and treat her with no respect for doing what she feels is right
she judges her face fat, waist size, and stretch marks in the morning
dealing with things teenagers her age shouldn’t be dealing with and after all that she has had to support herself by carrying that burden of teaching herself everything she doesn’t knows and even, about men that treat women with ultimate disrespect
like you, she looses patience easily and the gates of hell break open when she rambles on while temporarily disregarding who she is where she is and who she is talking with, no matter what, she will continue to rant about whoever or whatever drove her to lose that one thought in mind, waiting to be said in that moment of time.
half the time she is missing out on hanging out with her friends because you tell her she is not supposed to do that,
she is unsatisfied, spell one divided by two on her forehead
nobody understands what she says, according to a wannabe intellect in her advanced placement classes
she prefers a busy schedule because she moves on quickly and does not prefer sitting down, tuning into pointless, nonstop lectures, and perfectly accentuated monologues written and presented by her father in front of everyone she cares about.
as a result of that, she cries herself to sleep, dwelling on the thought of that while praying for someone or something, to take her away in the middle of the night
she fights waking up in the morning, to repeat the daily routine and process of adding more than she can handle on her plate
you can consider her a runaway from personal issues,
but you should be thanking her for still existing and experiencing a cruel world that surrounds her.
be grateful she is blessed with the right mindset, she is not following in your footsteps and making half the mistakes you once did,
those mistakes, every single of them amount to the overall guilt that rises in your throat before you prepare yourself to speak or perhaps, whenever people propose an idea that isn’t yours.
she reflects on your weakest points and tells herself to consider what she needs to learn more about,
her reflection connects to the previously mentioned thought process that is on-going in school
her hand trembles as she grips the pencil because she writes a lot to relieve her senses and stresses of past abuse and mental break downs.
call her a try hard, but in reality,
she is dealing with things nobody would ever think could be possible
she paints a picture in her head of a perfect life, one that involves leaving from the once familiar faces and settings she once admired,
placing everyone she has ever cared about to the side without rational thought, she is saying goodbye to those she would never think to,
she chose not to overcome her stressful relationship with her dad,
instead, she just got up and left, leaving everything she has ever considered to be important behind along with the boy she incessantly thought would someday provide for her.
a circle of thoughts run in and out of her scattered head everyday,
and if you are still wondering why, it is because she has big shoes to fill and lesson plans to organize when she travels from one place to another
she cannot seem to sort out or understand her issues fully yet she tries and strives and drives herself to the point in which she lets her work ethic outperform the people in the room.
she not only copes with the rude remarks and “constructive criticism” from ignorant people,
but with confronting people about issues she is has no part in
she is deep involved in unveiling the reasoning behind why, these people, of all people, attempt to grasp a hold of her, only then will they be able to clash their issues with hers.
similar to the behavior of her father,
her mom attests to her daughter serving her daughter’s fathers’ outlook on life itself because they act the same exact way.
she and he demand until their words fall short and their tears begin to escape from the corners
she and he cry until their sockets cannot take anymore and hearts begin to race double the beats per minute
they pounce on each other like enemies,
even though, they are blood tied and reflections of each other
as much as she hates to admit it, both she and he know it’s true,
but he will forever get his way and she will get her messages across every time.
Aug.15.19
Whenever you are in a situation
Where you can barley think anything
Where you can barely hear the words
People try to say to help

Remember theses words
“ Action speak louder then words”
Hemlata Roy Aug 3
No one is our enemy
No one is our remedy.

It is only the situation
To take careful elimination.

In our imagination
With many ambitions.
Is the situation making you sick and you are falling in depression, no one is good, no one is bad, the situation will be okay in it's own time.
Ken Pepiton Jul 23
gaining grips on lost guesses,
for guesses are the best we can say
our mays have ever pluralized,
in reality
as we say amen
ignoring
ams or weres being
obediant to
some simple law in a mind atuned to

things made of stuff for which we have no name
maybees are maybe or may
be,
mere guesses, or worse, they may
be lies,
hidden under robes and hats worn once
only by the wise
A cool humid morning, in a valley whose floor is higher than the Empire State Building, , by half a mile. I am a very rich man. I have coffee, sticky sativa and abeautiful woman who has leved me and loved me and loved me this long. 2 poems, this one secret.
Maria Etre Apr 8
Dragging a bad situation
is like being stabbed in the middle of your collar bones
and slowly sliding it down your chest...
Success is an illusion,
Luck – brad.
Lived in the hot Georgia
Sullen Swede.

Afraid of the sun,
Sat in the shadows.
Cut on a log
The tick-days.

In a secluded green
Honey pears
Dreamed of mold,
Sought in the wilderness.

Shells piled
In a big bag.
Crossword puzzle solving
And sang rhyme.
Anya Mar 25
"It's all your fault" The Leaf Blower complains
"Well, now you've gone and done it" the Rake, my supposed friend admonishes me
My head is buzzing
Says the Leaf Blower, "Always favoring him over me"

Ms. Leaf Blower and I have never gotten along,
Me, because of my seeming inability to properly use her, and the irritation when my dad could and asked me to hold the wire for him
Her, because of my, from a very young age, obvious favoritism towards Mr. Rake, who used to be my best friend until he passed away and my family disposed of his plastic remains

His predecessor, Rake junior, is far sharper than his old man
But rather than make him a better rake this simply adds to his narcissism
Unfortunately, this increases his attraction as well and each time he's swept about it's not just the leaves that are unearthed
Despite this obvious flaw in his being overly sharp, he sees it fit to admonish me for breaking Ms. Leaf Blower
Don't think I can't see the two of you flirting out there!

But indeed I did,
Break her that is, clearly none of the wires were pulled out
yet, she refuses to work

So now,
I'm left with a sullen rake
And a thousand-
Scratch that,
A seemingly never ending yard full of leaves
To clarify I used to really like a plastic rake but it broke and was thrown away. We also had a leaf blower but I could never properly use it. We later bought a metal rake which was overly sharp and has the tenancy of getting caught in the grass. Years later I was asked to blow the leaves but I managed to break the blower in five minutes so I resorted to the infuriating rake.
Have you ever left in a situation
where you want to write a poem
and you have exact words and emotions to write about;
but then looking down at your own words your eyes start hurting so bad that now you don't want to write it any more?
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