Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Amanda Aug 1
I do not want to argue anymore
Show me the way to the door
I would rather slum it surfing couch to couch
Than hide from life as I slack and slouch
Look down upon from your self-righteous horse
Insults hurled til your voice is hoarse
And "wouldn't you feel bad if I died?"
As if unaware of how I feel inside
I hate living with constant fear and anxiety. I honesty do not know how to refrain from taking it out on other people. Especially those close to me, such as my mother.
Salmabanu Hatim Aug 2019
I live in a luxurious  apartment,
She lives in a makeshift hut in the slums,
I sleep on the most comfortable bed,
She sleeps on the floor,
I have a chef and maids to cater for me,
She has her mum and siblings to cater for her,
My chef cooks tasty meals with latest gadgets,
Her mum cooks on firewood the best meals I have ever tasted,
For there is love of her mum in it.
I eat mostly alone,
My family have no time ,each busy in his/her own life,
Her family eats together on the floor and her mum sometimes feeds her,
They joke and laugh together,
I sit alone in my room , busy on my computer, doing homework or chatting,
After dinner her family sits outside the hut gossiping with neighbours while she does her homework under the streetlight .
I enjoy being at my friend's place more because she always has her family who cares,
There is laughter and happiness at her place although they have so little,
They are content with what they have,
I am glad I have a friend like her and her family to share.
24/8/2019
A Simillacrum Jul 2019
portal space is open,
in a purple swirl,
and I'm
****** back into a world

on the brink of an advent
toward some higher mind,
with a blessed perspective,
this recollection's wretched.

Levity was a given,
for mortality ignored.
What to do with levity,
with mortality accepted,
and endings implored.

last laugh always wins
(where are your friends?)
have been deemed unnecessary
everlasting grin
(how off have you been?)
have i?

no. have i?

what's it gonna take to get this bad brain
back on the right of the left hand black?
nothing will. nothing will.

what's it gonna take to get this bad brain
back on the right track to get connected
with the rest of them?

nothing will. bad brain bad.
A Simillacrum Jul 2019
shouting
die 2 try?
try n Try
try 2 die
laughing?
A Simillacrum Jul 2019
for all my preparation
this project begins to slip away
what if my great fantasy
hinges on a banal happiness?
the ink of ballpoint pen
takes me as far as sorrow's edges
i confess best to myself
wetness skin to skin, with sweat's sweet and
sour accompaniment is as close to happiness
as i can steer this sinking ship
as of late there's nothing left
of the sweat to cleanse my dead palate
A Simillacrum Jul 2019
clearly, the days slip past
i nearly lasted, keeping track
tags and descriptions, each one placed
as if a benefit falls upon the lot
for drawing connective lines
god's dead, god's not dead,
i'm god, the god of sand,
ephemera at my command
but what's it mean? these things
take time, but not seriously, because
the sun hits the wax on a paper cup
and it blinds us from the bushes
and so low, can't care
so low, lone, done dead
can't care for upsides
but asides and sideways
A Simillacrum Aug 2018
When I look down I know
one world apart
from when I look up.

A world below, more reality
than what I've known of reality
through living since my birth.

One earth, two worlds,
splitting hairs,
scrambling airs,
creating errors,
chastising errs
so much
that nothing's
learned.

Up/Down,
Living lies,
Blurring lines,
Up/Down --

It's not that I don't know
what's actually worth a ****.

It's that I see worth as a curse,
and would, rather than peace,
see ecstasy return me
into the breeze
as dirt.
Puspanjali Sahu Jan 2017
Dry hair
Dry skin
Hopes are dead
and their dead bodies are also dried

I wish God should come down now
and save your watery smile
before it shrinks
and vanishes
somewhere in our dry sleepy minds  

But why
whenever my eyes see you
either you are alone
or in the arms of
not a mother like mother
I wonder
whether hunger had murdered
love of a mother  

I wonder
whether you come to this world
without a father  

Or somewhere  
watery eyes of your mother
wet heart of your father
are still waiting
and praying for your comeback
without knowing
a dry YOU
is dying without water
We come across children living in miserable conditions near railway stations, temples, in markets, near bus stops etc. Often we found them alone or with pitiable ladies whom we assume as their mothers but never with their fathers. Why? Is it because a mother can gain more sympathy than a father or these children are the result of momentary attraction/torture?
But how could a mother let her child to live in such a pity or is it a modern way of begging? Sometimes it could happen that parents lost their children and their lost children were seen as used for better begging.
Is our ignorance responsible for this?
Blank faces, hopeless dreams
Scattered down the boulevard
Thank the barren local streets
That shatter thoughts of working hard

Lonely moms, dying friends,
Barefoot children in the dark
Play behind a chain-link fence
Instead of in the park

Fast food & news stations
Feed on troubled minds
Claiming that the stipulations
Are changing with the times


These days you can’t wake up
Without that cup of Joe
Problems all those drugs shake up
Most people never know

— The End —