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freesoulandpoet May 2020
She walked past her mirror once again
Not glancing at her tired reflection
Crippled with fear to see her own pain
Pain that has turned into an addiction

She didn't feel worthy anymore
She didn't remember what hope used to be for
She has let her thoughts do it all
The thinking, the overthinking, that's just all

Her warrior heart was no longer defending her
For she has failed her, filling her soul with doubt
Doubt that she has tried to tear down, cast out
But in vain, as she could not face herself, as her

In the midst of the despair, a voice whispered
In the coldness of the night, she heard a soft melody
Murmuring words of hope, words of those who survived
Survived the war of their souls against their deepest fears

"You're enough", she heard,
"You're enough", she heard again
A voice, coming within her soul, like a Shepherd
Fighting to be heard above her pain

"You're enough", she heard all over and over
And this time, she chose to believe it
As she smiled at the fierce survivor in her mirror
No longer afraid of her reflection, as she was enough.
You are enough, you don't have to prove anything to anybody, mostly to yourself. Accept yourself before anybody else does it.
Yachika Sharma May 2020
When you get to see,
The person you could have become,
Hope you see a reflection of yourself.
Valmir Zimberi May 2020
In that moment,
Where I looked into your beautiful eyes
Then suddenly I knew
That something bigger existed
A love we in everyday hectic pursuits
Can't see

In that moment
I saw how beautifully all our souls are intertwined
Of a love we don't even understand

In that moment
I saw how great the beauty is
In even the smallest encounters with another human being
Another soul

In that moment
I saw that we all share something in common
You are my teacher and I am yours
In your eyes, I saw something that I now see in everyone's eyes

We are all one and we are all love
John Mendoza May 2020
The world left you a long time ago yet you can’t help but love her unconditionally...
Sam May 2020
the sky turns orange and pink
as the sunsets on another day
time rushing by
in a beautiful colour scheme
yet i cannot see

the sky turns dark blue and black
as the night falls upon the lands
this is my time
no colours to be seen
i can see everything clearer

the sky turns bright red, burning
as the sunrises on the next day
i stare intently
but the bars which hold me captive
continue to only provide grey

the skys turns blue and grey
as the day passes by
thunder and lightening sounding
the bars shudder but so not break
leaving me continuously blind

colourblind to life
I was feeling unable to understand myself and the world around me recently and wrote it into this mess about how without certainty and understanding of yourself, life lacks in beauty.
annh May 2020
If you place me on a pedestal,
I can’t help but disappoint you;
For no one is infallible,
No one survives unbroken,
No one remains unchanged.

When it all turns to custard,
Who do you blame?
Me for letting you down,
Or yourself for doing the same,
By expecting too much of me.
To shamelessly paraphrase Yotam Ottolenghi: ‘I am inordinately fond of pedestals...and...custard in any shape or form.’
Elleanor Cole Apr 2020
What do I stand for?
Such a simple question,
sometimes incessant in your mind.
Gnawing at your psyche
asking, demanding, screaming.

What
do
YOU
stand for?

I know...
****, I didn't know what I was trying to do with this, but I hope you enjoy it!
It was 12:30 and if you'd believe it...this was early for me
I try to acknowledge these small victories
Hardly an epiphany it seems, but maybe it was for me
but as I sip this coffee made lukewarm by thoughts and reflections becoming the sunlight through the window illuminating a different spot on the floor, I know I must acknowledge it
The taste is more bitter than that first sip and it makes me question if this is really about taste
With each stretching step, I look for something new to set my sights on and make this worthwhile
Loading memories of adventure and friends and brighter days as a habit
and then scolding myself for not being here right now
Though I breathe deeply and take faith
I've made it through, more so I realize
I like myself and
I might as well
This was my submission to get approved for the site
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Apr 2020
I have always admired people who were not afraid to be their real selves, who listened not to the prevailing clamor emanating from salons, but to their own hearts and minds. Mary Wollstonecraft (1759-1797) was her own person and was not abashed to state openly and unequivocally her beliefs. Her most famous work, A VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN, championed the notions of reason and education not just for men, but also for women, and for children especially. She was an autodidact, perforce. She was indeed the forerunner of the women's liberation movement, but she also wrote novels, a history of the French Revolution through which she lived, treatises, letters (not postcards) of intellectual substance, even a children's book. She lived an unconventional life, having children out of wedlock, for example. To say she was way ahead of her time is, of course, a huge understatemnt. But the aforementioned are the reasons why I fell in love with Mary Wollstonecraft.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet, a novelist, and a human-rights advocate his entire adult life.
byron Johnson jr Apr 2020
my first time picking up the handle
brandishing a weapon I feel like long forgotten
the lost mantle of a practioneer
a master if you will
so strange yet so fumilar
muscle memory a disaster
lashings of love slashes of hate
wounds so deep you can't erase the mistake
now my stance is off
each movement feels wrong
something inside still urges me forward
begs me to continue
now all is forgotten and only the feeling remains
my love for this violence welcomes me again
can you read this massacre
let me help you by turning the page
poetry my art form
the pen
my weapons name
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