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#comprehension
Reading and comprehending? For those that may be struggling else illiterate? Perhaps wipe off the sweat and pick up the practice again Allah is the source of Power of course Allah can provide the best The Prophet Muhammad peace be upon was illiterate so the people won't accuse him of writing the Quran One day strive and find something that can be better than literacy
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May 14
May 14, 2026 at 1:59 AM UTC
Reading
A Pope Brings forth hope But a ruler Spews hate and horror A Pope Spreads peace In the north, south, west and east But a prideful mope like a squalid dope Spits horrors and terrors And starts fights and wars A peaceful person de-escalates But a belligerent bully booms, inflates And explodes like a lost missile Which acts like a cussed imbecile A real leader Never follows an oppressor Yet a follower is a master loser Who lies about everything Even when the sun is shining A Pope Offers love and hope But a loser displays no compassion No sympathy and no comprehension. Copyright © April 2016 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved. Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
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Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 10:21 PM UTC
A Pope And Hope
Flowers of all kinds, I saw hyacinth, lilies, and roses alike, Bought and sold near the riverside Some in faith; others in love, In the same faith; thrown away; Castrated in city haul Plastic flowers were sold near the florist shop I saw the fresh flowers get withered Never ending but fake, I saw beauty being littered Wandering this busy city Near the station, as I stand— I saw a little child laugh, With nothing but a paper rose in hand.
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Jun 23, 2025
Jun 23, 2025 at 5:57 AM UTC
Petals, and Innocence
If you don't wanna understand it, don't. You're not held to comprehension. If you don't want to agree, don't. You're not held to a thing in discussion. If you don't want to think, don't. You're still liable for your actions. If you don't want to speak, don't. You're still liable for its consequences. Personally? Don't have a fit, I don't give a **** Smell the flowers!
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Apr 28, 2025
Apr 28, 2025 at 8:17 PM UTC
Thems Is Nice Roses, Though.
All poems and proses are unfinished Only those in sonnet are finished Completed, done, and terminated A poem or prose can still be edited Revised, retouched and rewritten A poem is a powerful tool or weapon Leave alone my unfinished poems These are my spices, my stars, my emblems You don't understand their symbols And the words used to fill up the bowls You just have to read my poems ten times To fully comprehend them. Ignore the rhymes To pay more attention to the vernacular They are not bizarre; they are just particular They are not regular; they are unfinished They are not strange, they are simple. Kabish! Copyright © July 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
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Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 7:11 PM UTC
Unfinished Poems
Never did I intend To depend So heavily on this pen And the hand it was able to lend But if I didn't spend The time I did attend Like if I only spent the weekend Workin' on me, I wouldn't have been able to defend my heart Or fend off the dark Because I wouldn't have been able to comprehend The in-between Of the beginning and the end ©2024
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Sep 5, 2024
Sep 5, 2024 at 11:15 AM UTC
~•§•~ In-between the Beginning and the End ~•§•~
Finite compassion Finite love Finite reason Finite recognition from above Finite beauty Finite realism Finite money Finite working system Finite education Finite brain cells Finite investigation Into the finite comprehension skills Finite common sense Finite self preservation Finite self defence Finite coherent mission Finite greatness Finite days to live Finite forgiveness Finite directive Finite relevance Finite cooperation Finite presence Finite revelation Finite patriotism Finite rules Finite fixing 'em Finite scruples Finite healing elixirs Finite work on problems Finite cure backers Finite beneficial algorithms Finite action Finite lessons learned Finite reaction Finite your turn Finite grandeur Finite effective comedy Finite healing laughter The same can not be said about tragedy Finite answers found Finite coping skills Finite middle ground Finite deserved kills It's obvious I could go on and on But I just dawned on me that I've always had Finite fuucks to give ©2024
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May 12, 2024
May 12, 2024 at 12:40 PM UTC
~•§•~ A Finite Amount of F*cks to Give ~•§•~
Here I stand, in one hand I've more knowledge than ever A better comprehension in the other But no third hand, arm, and shoulder All needed if you hope to discover and then be a supporter Of that impossibly elusive answer Now fewer than ever and always less than the day before Watching compassion wash away with the tears from the eyes of a lover As I try in desperation to prove a mear possibly, maybe we're better together Before the search begins and what's wanted is what's found in another And I'm left to wonder the vastness of forever without my chosen partner Alone, not wanting to, once again, risk going public with my server That fear leads me here, to a future where I put all hope in never And yes, you don't have to tell me, I'm well aware... ...I know that makes this a hopeless endeavor ©2024
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Mar 1, 2024
Mar 1, 2024 at 8:08 PM UTC
~•§•~ A Hopeless Endeavor ~•§•~
It's true, I usually don't know what to do What if I'm not around long enough to follow through? Never know if my way or the highway is the right way What did that sign say? Will it be possible to recognize this impending last day Even if just a day before it's referred to as "Ah shiit, is that today?" This is foul, Where do I go and what do I do now? And just because I know what to do doesn't mean I'll comprehend the how Who in their right mind could stand here and say they could handle the architecture and atmosphere of so many types of conflicting fear? Who's the stranger with the black soul looking back at me in the mirror? I wish it was clearer But there's never a gene around ever Take note that not every question has a viable answer While some answers only raise more questions after filtering through questionable ********** banter That's why there's a little manic in the laughter And a wave of panic soon after ©2024
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Feb 15, 2024
Feb 15, 2024 at 3:48 PM UTC
~•§•~ Conflicting Fears ~•§•~
The risk of takin' time to begin mendin' a broken and frozen heart is it could stop its natural rhythmic beatin' at any given moment, without adequate warnin' Matter of fact it's bound to happen like global warmin', that's the only endin' found followin' right on the heels of drownin' Any other prediction goin' 'round is only white noise background sound of them denyin' and rewritin' facts, specializin' in turnin' backs and bold face lyin' I constantly find myself suffocatin' in my own skin like it's a plastic bag grippin' my face, compression at the neck, not lettin' air in Debatin' whether or not to go all in and fight this overpowered and undefeated depression with persistence and medication, maybe some meditation and self reflection Or should I just go ahead and give in again, puttin' in little to no effort to change the end into somethin' worth strivin' for, will there even be someone there lookin' forward to me arrivin'? This is not pretend or manipulation, basically I'm forfeitin' due to exhaustion and frustration, handin' over the rains, just givin' my inner demon the win I'm sick and tired of bein' tired and sick, gettin' beaten, pickin' myself up just to start takin' the walk of shame back to some new beginnin' Plus, spoiler alert, I already know the final boss battle in this surreal engine is just gonna be against myself, once again Same as its always been, it's not about to start changin' now, no amount of trainin' or preparation' will stop this from happenin' Like the programer guy and I are playing a side game of chicken, he's got nothin' to lose, I've already lost everythin' holdin' out for a win that's never comin', never a celebration I'll die if I don't keep moving 'cause I can see the next hardship comin', it's fuckin' gainin' on me quickly and I don't have a remedy or solution so, tail between legs, I start runnin' I'm noticin' the **** selection, nothing good comes from either decision especially if you're plannin' on bringin' logic in as part of the equation, it should help but it's only a complication And I'm forced to pick a direction without knowin' the destination or what I'll be facin' or what's waitin' for me at the finish lines location Even without an imagination as dark as mine you can see its a risky expidition with low to no expectation of finishin' Hope diminishin' past salvation, straight to damnation and a bitter end Death awaits every person ever born, he's never missed one and I won't be the exception, it's the when I'm questionin', on my knees prayin', shiftin' seamlessly into beggin' In one hand I could win the battle that's ragin' in between my ears, lord knows I'm tired of listenin' On the other hand I lose the war, therefore there's no reason for even tryin', no goin' back to the beginnin', no rewindin' I'm left nursin' a wound that's turned into an infection and its quickly spreadin', entertainin' the thought of idle hand amputation Don't need to be an open heart surgeon, it's already been broken twice and put on ice, I'll just rip it out then hold it up for all to see before it completely stops pulsatin' The fixation has never been on fixin' anythin' but rather dodgin' any situation that'll get me lookin' within Possibly havin' to acknowledge I might not be worth savin', is that me speakin' or my shoulder devil at it again'? It's gettin' harder and harder to tell the difference, both soundin' the same, the blurred line causes confusin' I know the notion of what I'm sayin' isn't easy to comprehend much less believe in And that's the reason why I've bottled every emotion and set them floatin' out in the vast ocean To keep me from bein' a burden to anyone but one person, you're lookin' at him and I lie and say it's workin' I don't know what I was thinkin' not takin' this more serious from the beginnin' It's been ruinin' my life's mission, runnin' up a tab of bad karma that I'm gonna wind up payin' Stoppin' all forward motion by keepin' me frightened to the point I've given up on fightin' The results are in and it's unsettlin', I now only seem to be nothin' but a punchin' bag for Satan and his legion I'm startin' to come undone at the seams and it seems like no one's carin' but I don't know what else I was expectin' I could've predicted that with precision like I have the ability to be time travelin' Knowin' for certain what the future is bringin' but I'm just goin' off of every previous lesson that left a lastin' impression But still not seein' the big picture, fussin' over the small **** like somethin' on the roof of my mouth I can't stop tonguin' Wastin' precious time that I could've been usin' to at least soften the blow I know is creepin' up, comin' 'round the bend with the collection plate to put my fate in But again, I can't stop the regression long enough to gain traction, a continuation of my downward trend, market value crashin', free fallin' with no parachute or safety net to protect my noggin I don't give myself permission to feel anythin' other than self derogation Sleep deprivation has my dreams fadin', countin' one sheep, two sheep, **** the rest have gone missin' I'm left pickin' myself up and dustin' myself off, brushin' my own well bein' to the side, out of sight, out of mind, keep it hidden All lefts, no right to weigh in even though it's my life my thoughts are playin' with, throwin' caution to the wind And now that I'm broken beyond repair I get tossed into the compost bin lettin' somethin' else grow from me decomposin' A form of reincarnation at worst, at best, a place to finally get some much needed rest in' I'm no longer invested in livin', hell, I'll even sign my own death certificate, give me a pen ©2022
0
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 4:08 PM UTC
~•§•~ Diminished Hope ~•§•~
The risk of takin' time to begin mendin' a broken and frozen heart is it could stop its natural rhythmic beatin' at any given moment, without adequate warnin' Matter of fact it's bound to happen like global warmin', that's the only endin' found followin' right on the heels of drownin' Any other prediction goin' 'round is only white noise background sound of them denyin' and rewritin' facts, specializin' in turnin' backs and bold face lyin' I constantly find myself suffocatin' in my own skin like it's a plastic bag grippin' my face, compression at the neck, not lettin' air in Debatin' whether or not to go all in and fight this overpowered and undefeated depression with persistence and medication, maybe some meditation and self reflection Or should I just go ahead and give in again, puttin' in little to no effort to change the end into somethin' worth strivin' for, will there even be someone there lookin' forward to me arrivin'? This is not pretend or manipulation, basically I'm forfeitin' due to exhaustion and frustration, handin' over the rains, just givin' my inner demon the win I'm sick and tired of bein' tired and sick, gettin' beaten, pickin' myself up just to start takin' the walk of shame back to some new beginnin' Plus, spoiler alert, I already know the final boss battle in this surreal engine is just gonna be against myself, once again Same as its always been, it's not about to start changin' now, no amount of trainin' or preparation' will stop this from happenin' Like the programer guy and I are playing a side game of chicken, he's got nothin' to lose, I've already lost everythin' holdin' out for a win that's never comin', never a celebration I'll die if I don't keep moving 'cause I can see the next hardship comin', it's fuckin' gainin' on me quickly and I don't have a remedy or solution so, tail between legs, I start runnin' I'm noticin' the **** selection, nothing good comes from either decision especially if you're plannin' on bringin' logic in as part of the equation, it should help but it's only a complication And I'm forced to pick a direction without knowin' the destination or what I'll be facin' or what's waitin' for me at the finish lines location Even without an imagination as dark as mine you can see its a risky expidition with low to no expectation of finishin' Hope diminishin' past salvation, straight to damnation and a bitter end Death awaits every person ever born, he's never missed one and I won't be the exception, it's the when I'm questionin', on my knees prayin', shiftin' seamlessly into beggin' In one hand I could win the battle that's ragin' in between my ears, lord knows I'm tired of listenin' On the other hand I lose the war, therefore there's no reason for even tryin', no goin' back to the beginnin', no rewindin' I'm left nursin' a wound that's turned into an infection and its quickly spreadin', entertainin' the thought of idle hand amputation Don't need to be an open heart surgeon, it's already been broken twice and put on ice, I'll just rip it out then hold it up for all to see before it completely stops pulsatin' The fixation has never been on fixin' anythin' but rather dodgin' any situation that'll get me lookin' within Possibly havin' to acknowledge I might not be worth savin', is that me speakin' or my shoulder devil at it again'? It's gettin' harder and harder to tell the difference, both soundin' the same, the blurred line causes confusin' I know the notion of what I'm sayin' isn't easy to comprehend much less believe in And that's the reason why I've bottled every emotion and set them floatin' out in the vast ocean To keep me from bein' a burden to anyone but one person, you're lookin' at him and I lie and say it's workin' I don't know what I was thinkin' not takin' this more serious from the beginnin' It's been ruinin' my life's mission, runnin' up a tab of bad karma that I'm gonna wind up payin' Stoppin' all forward motion by keepin' me frightened to the point I've given up on fightin' The results are in and it's unsettlin', I now only seem to be nothin' but a punchin' bag for Satan and his legion I'm startin' to come undone at the seams and it seems like no one's carin' but I don't know what else I was expectin' I could've predicted that with precision like I have the ability to be time travelin' Knowin' for certain what the future is bringin' but I'm just goin' off of every previous lesson that left a lastin' impression But still not seein' the big picture, fussin' over the small **** like somethin' on the roof of my mouth I can't stop tonguin' Wastin' precious time that I could've been usin' to at least soften the blow I know is creepin' up, comin' 'round the bend with the collection plate to put my fate in But again, I can't stop the regression long enough to gain traction, a continuation of my downward trend, market value crashin', free fallin' with no parachute or safety net to protect my noggin I don't give myself permission to feel anythin' other than self derogation Sleep deprivation has my dreams fadin', countin' one sheep, two sheep, **** the rest have gone missin' I'm left pickin' myself up and dustin' myself off, brushin' my own well bein' to the side, out of sight, out of mind, keep it hidden All lefts, no right to weigh in even though it's my life my thoughts are playin' with, throwin' caution to the wind And now that I'm broken beyond repair I get tossed into the compost bin lettin' somethin' else grow from me decomposin' A form of reincarnation at worst, at best, a place to finally get some much needed rest in' I'm no longer invested in livin', hell, I'll even sign my own death certificate, give me a pen ©2022
Continue reading...
45
] ] ] ] One crossed your mind,         Is thinking of you too?                                            Is it True? [ [ [ [
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Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 5:05 PM UTC
May be
Trade winds blow backwards My mind reels Insight in insight Thirdhand apocrypha Melting all the time Icebergs within icebergs
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Aug 4, 2021
Aug 4, 2021 at 11:37 PM UTC
Icebergs
I still have to and follow the inquiry to learn to belove at paid attention every face shaping I encounter. Because there is no fleeing from any of them when I look in the mirror well (and in dark glazed)
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Sep 1, 2020
Sep 1, 2020 at 4:06 PM UTC
Just Face Your Outlook
What wonder with Poetry in Prose, and Prose in Poetry, those two together made at once, what Art is that whilst those trespass borders of what’s cognitive and not, my true form of wording and existing being as that! That is a feat, mingle those two together, make one fluent into train of events by the other and the other make the former an extravagance that should reign on us! The most forming way of expression verbally and not! And what experience would that be if we took under account again the spaces and the “Enter” key between verses in a classic poem structure, to think how that changes everything and what respect it demands in each line differently!
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Aug 26, 2020
Aug 26, 2020 at 6:05 PM UTC
Prose & Poetry
The Word gets constantly abused and has no one to turn to except those, who came to taste what went first before its even ashes forming. Like Cinderella in the attic- unwanted, locked, mistreated, everyone pretends she’s not there Yet it is her the one they’re searching for, needed, and the centre meant of it all. A true man of God getting an articulate smack to the law their face shines with. Because Word is also a person, even greater and higher than it has been presented to us, yet not even considered as a speck of it so. “I love you” “Understand” “Thank” “Good” “Bad” “What”. Calls such as those hang so worn out Like a fabric, shirt, barely holding at the seams.
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Aug 13, 2020
Aug 13, 2020 at 3:00 AM UTC
Usage
Whittle away at stone or at wood carving the shape in your mind Imposing your will if it does any good even though you're deaf dumb and blind Man against man man versus machine man and woman entwined Grasping at art the person you've been maybe not happy, or giving or kind Coming the day when paradigm strikes and like a bolt through your brain You'll comprehend fail like a wreck in the night all of those feelings and more will remain
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Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 12:14 AM UTC
Echos from the past
A tendency or trait I have to sense, comprehend what others may not, and then for it to go the other way round, put all the way into the oblivion back. Apprehension…?
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Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 5:50 AM UTC
Gioielli di Giornale #16
When life is right And you behold their sight You think just might Be my new shining light That thinking won’t last for long Because it is certainly wrong It’s a sirens song One is not singular Everyone is like snakes are Something modular This is scary So do not tarry When finding someone complimentary And if you are to marry Know that it is necessary To understand their itinerary Protect their light But see their darkness Help them in their fight Because you and them share a likeness Don’t fear the dark It’s part of the spark People are not one thing your mind will be in a pink spring So remember to bring Something to fight that veiling Which is so blinding
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Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 2:49 AM UTC
Romance
the more you're attached to your narration of life, the more you are missing the comprehension; which indeed can't ever be contained or explained. we are the derivative of energies and ****** up chunk of proteins, which doesn't want to be a part of anything else but you. ' you're the biggest cover to keep and you're the biggest secret to reveal, to not the very world but very self of yours.' that's the fixture you do with narration, you never hold it; you give up on it but what you can learn is the comprehension.
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Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 10:28 AM UTC
stage, life's a stage
This spoken language, Spoken by my heart, In garbled anguish, Can’t be deciphered By a mind that learned To speak happiness. My heart is vanquished, Crying to come home, In foreign language, Can’t be understood By a mind that learned To listen for joy. This is when your body learns loneliness, When your thoughts don’t comprehend what you feel.
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Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 10:06 PM UTC
Comprehension
I don’t know what I’m reading. I stare and stare and stare at the book given to me by my professor but can’t bring myself to open it, because I don’t know what I’m reading. It’s not in a foreign language that I’m having a hard time translating, because ironically, that would be far too easy. It’s in my native language, the words registering to my brain like breathing, but I still don’t know what I’m reading. What are these authors saying, as they twist and weave their words into a world that everyone around me seems to understand? I can see the surface level of what the author is trying to say, and if I try hard enough I know I can scratch at it to see the layer right underneath, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. “Don’t give excuses,” my professor says, and I know it comes across as an excuse as I try to explain that I can’t tell anyone what the underlying meaning of this scene means, or the symbolism it’s supposed to represent, since it goes flying over my head like a bird narrowly avoiding collision. “You need to participate,” my professor says, and I know I need to try but how can I when everything that takes ages for me to think of is said within the first five minutes of class discussion? What takes me an hour takes my classmates a minute; what takes time for me to raise my hand for takes my classmates to the next topic, my contribution long past relevant. How do I survive college this way? How do I get by when writing is what I’m good at, but I can’t understand the writing of other authors and poets who put just as much work into their stories as I do? I am a fraud; the looks of confusion and shame I receive when I state my major to the world are well-deserved. “Could you share with the class?” my professor asks before we are dismissed, the eyes of my classmates tearing into my soul as I try to bring the words to my lips that I know will never come. What could I say to everyone that expects an intelligent conversation from a college senior? “I’m sorry professor,” I say. “I can’t.” And I sag under the weight of disappointment. It’s not my fault, after all. I don’t know what I’m reading.
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Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 2:50 PM UTC
i don't know what i'm reading
I don’t know what I’m reading. I stare and stare and stare at the book given to me by my professor but can’t bring myself to open it, because I don’t know what I’m reading. It’s not in a foreign language that I’m having a hard time translating, because ironically, that would be far too easy. It’s in my native language, the words registering to my brain like breathing, but I still don’t know what I’m reading. What are these authors saying, as they twist and weave their words into a world that everyone around me seems to understand? I can see the surface level of what the author is trying to say, and if I try hard enough I know I can scratch at it to see the layer right underneath, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. “Don’t give excuses,” my professor says, and I know it comes across as an excuse as I try to explain that I can’t tell anyone what the underlying meaning of this scene means, or the symbolism it’s supposed to represent, since it goes flying over my head like a bird narrowly avoiding collision. “You need to participate,” my professor says, and I know I need to try but how can I when everything that takes ages for me to think of is said within the first five minutes of class discussion? What takes me an hour takes my classmates a minute; what takes time for me to raise my hand for takes my classmates to the next topic, my contribution long past relevant. How do I survive college this way? How do I get by when writing is what I’m good at, but I can’t understand the writing of other authors and poets who put just as much work into their stories as I do? I am a fraud; the looks of confusion and shame I receive when I state my major to the world are well-deserved. “Could you share with the class?” my professor asks before we are dismissed, the eyes of my classmates tearing into my soul as I try to bring the words to my lips that I know will never come. What could I say to everyone that expects an intelligent conversation from a college senior? “I’m sorry professor,” I say. “I can’t.” And I sag under the weight of disappointment. It’s not my fault, after all. I don’t know what I’m reading.
Continue reading...
9
In nature trees grow as wide as the roots will allow. At a point, science must surpass nature or risk becoming a 'nature' -unto itself.
0
Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 10:12 PM UTC
Natural World
There is a light following behind me. Making a angry shadow in front of me. Should I turn to the safety of the light; Or investigate my curiosity in a parallel universal fight. The light beckons for me to come home where everything will be fine. The shadow represents my future self within my new design. For me to accept this new variation of myself I must slow down time. I must accept and inspect from my past design. The influence of the light has brought to this confrontation. The maddening thought is how can I change without positive reconciliation. As the light fades on another day. Will I change in some other way. The decision is to try to make a change on myself. By putting all life’s tragedy’s on the shelf. Forget them and stash them far beyond the comprehension of oneself. Deep into my memories I will dwell. With the rising of another day. I see my shadow and look on it with dismay. Have I changed? Maybe I have just rearranged. Whatever is done is done. Next time I meet my shadow I might turn and run. Although change might be good for me. I most of time I do not see. The light carry’s us away. No longer will we be crowded in dismay.
0
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
Is Change Good
Where ever you may be let there be solicitude. Clear all other moods my dear. a sensitivity you took for granted. All the bull **** you ranted. Still all is forgiven, but not forgotten. As my inner demons want to see you rotting. this battle inst over yet, let compassion fill your heart; before all is to late an ripped apart. you had my sympathy but forget my empathy. Let off the deep end, descend my ill minded friend. i know this is hard to comprehend. quite useless indeed. just heed the warning because we may not see the next morning my friend. peace cease to rest as for your no longer here, just a mirror i broke.  so evoke or choke on this toxic air. as its seems harder to bare.   to everyone who thinks differently or indifferently i wish you all well. as i step through hell watching from the inside out.. endless route. i now walk in solitary, that this wont end through any promissory i held.  ashes fades to grey.  only to feel betrayal to watch all vanish away. _ marty  ** ftw an FML
0
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 7:15 PM UTC
toxic