#lifechoices - Hello Poetry

"You just need to prove that every path has its own scope and worth." Not all journeys look the same, and not all success comes in one form. Some paths teach patience, some build strength, and some quietly shape you into who you’re meant to become. Stop measuring your direction with someone else’s destination. What seems small to others might be everything to you. What looks slow might be steady growth. In the end, it’s not about choosing the “best” path— it’s about believing that the path you choose is capable of becoming meaningful, because you chose to walk it with purpose.

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Apr 17

Apr 17, 2026 at 12:09 AM UTC

Arna_writes

Every Path Has Its Own Worth

"You just need to prove that every path has its own scope and worth." Not all journeys look the same, and not all success comes in one form. Some paths teach patience, some build strength, and some quietly shape you into who you’re meant to become. Stop measuring your direction with someone else’s destination. What seems small to others might be everything to you. What looks slow might be steady growth. In the end, it’s not about choosing the “best” path— it’s about believing that the path you choose is capable of becoming meaningful, because you chose to walk it with purpose.

11

The *** never worries about its shine, but only if the chef can stir more than heat. Good looks can season the eyes, but flavor fades quickly if the soul isn’t fed. Jewels on the counter don’t make a meal— the scars of the pan prove it’s lived through fire. A recipe isn’t written in gold, but in burns, in the scrapes, and in hands that keep cooking. So dress the kitchen however you please, but know this: the worth of what you serve is weighed in the scars you carry, not the shine you polish. And now I ask— __which kind of *** are you__?

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Sep 9, 2025

Sep 9, 2025 at 12:09 PM UTC

OddOdysseyPoet

The *** and the Cook

The *** never worries about its shine, but only if the chef can stir more than heat. Good looks can season the eyes, but flavor fades quickly if the soul isn’t fed. Jewels on the counter don’t make a meal— the scars of the pan prove it’s lived through fire. A recipe isn’t written in gold, but in burns, in the scrapes, and in hands that keep cooking. So dress the kitchen however you please, but know this: the worth of what you serve is weighed in the scars you carry, not the shine you polish. And now I ask— __which kind of *** are you__?

14

Is it worth walking the tightline of life as a drunken trapeze artist— feeding on grass from the greener side? We are gentle, grazing creatures, trading paint against the rail fence, peering through cracks at a better life, always just out of reach. I meet the ceiling of my limits, hanging from the rafters of myself. I face the wall as if it could talk back, as if my skeletons could speak through the plaster of the closet that hides them. Beneath the roar in my chest, a lion would still cry— but never in front of their pride, perhaps because of pride. A new man, mane brushed clean, yet what is new when the old still haunts, when it’s harder to forget regret than to accept what must be accepted? So I obliterate the past, declare death to the old self— all the undone things, all the debts unpaid. On the cards I’ve been dealt, I keep a poker face for enemies. But I never play a hand just to impress; I clean up my own mess, one move at a time. Watch every step you take. _This is life’s tightrope_.

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Aug 23, 2025

Aug 23, 2025 at 5:17 PM UTC

OddOdysseyPoet

Life’s Tightrope

Is it worth walking the tightline of life as a drunken trapeze artist— feeding on grass from the greener side? We are gentle, grazing creatures, trading paint against the rail fence, peering through cracks at a better life, always just out of reach. I meet the ceiling of my limits, hanging from the rafters of myself. I face the wall as if it could talk back, as if my skeletons could speak through the plaster of the closet that hides them. Beneath the roar in my chest, a lion would still cry— but never in front of their pride, perhaps because of pride. A new man, mane brushed clean, yet what is new when the old still haunts, when it’s harder to forget regret than to accept what must be accepted? So I obliterate the past, declare death to the old self— all the undone things, all the debts unpaid. On the cards I’ve been dealt, I keep a poker face for enemies. But I never play a hand just to impress; I clean up my own mess, one move at a time. Watch every step you take. _This is life’s tightrope_.

20

The match trembles between my fingers, a silent war in a room too still. Smoke or breath—what matters now? The weight of nothingness, the weight of her. She lingers like an unfinished line, half a whisper, half a wound. A memory blurred at the edges, but sharp enough to cut through the dark. Did she ever love me, or just the idea? A boy with dreams too heavy to hold, an engineer of castles in air, a builder of futures that never came. Outside, the night hums with indifference. Inside, I weigh the lighter’s click against the echo of her voice— soft, pleading, unbearably distant. I could fade with the smoke, or chase the sun she once pointed to. Between life and her, I choose to breathe.

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Feb 28, 2025

Feb 28, 2025 at 1:35 AM UTC

Kuch_baatein_khud_se

A Cigarette Between Life and Her

The match trembles between my fingers, a silent war in a room too still. Smoke or breath—what matters now? The weight of nothingness, the weight of her. She lingers like an unfinished line, half a whisper, half a wound. A memory blurred at the edges, but sharp enough to cut through the dark. Did she ever love me, or just the idea? A boy with dreams too heavy to hold, an engineer of castles in air, a builder of futures that never came. Outside, the night hums with indifference. Inside, I weigh the lighter’s click against the echo of her voice— soft, pleading, unbearably distant. I could fade with the smoke, or chase the sun she once pointed to. Between life and her, I choose to breathe.

20

Never blame me when it was your choice in the first place.

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Dec 24, 2024

Dec 24, 2024 at 11:47 PM UTC

pax

Blamed

Never blame me when it was your choice in the first place.

1

There is a war happening Which side is the right/wrong? How do I stop the war Before my head explodes!

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Apr 17, 2023

Apr 17, 2023 at 12:40 AM UTC

jd-7

War

There is a war happening Which side is the right/wrong? How do I stop the war Before my head explodes!

4

All of my life has been a search For things I could not see For matters founding in my heart For things that I could be I sold my home and life For principiality But everything was worth the price And Im remorselessly Yet I wonder now and then Whenever I am asked again What I have answered once Though I walked freely down that path And there is no regret and yet I wonder what I felt inside What caused my mind to set This way along the past What craving caused my vast Amount of ruthlessness I lost my time, with no remorse, And all of my appeal The breaking clocks may have been worse But still, I could'nt feel Nor understand what Ive been searching for And when I carried on my way I lost myself in forlorn days Where I found something new I never had been searching for And yet I felt that something grew Inside of me That let me fear The things about to come For I got lost, found by someone, Something that changed my mind I didnt want to lose that fast Nor leave it all behind And for the first time I did fight I changed the clockwork of my mind I chose a place, a time a side And wonder about all my life About decisions, thoughts and creeds I owned in future pasts For any deed I would regret And yet I wonder What have happened to my heart

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Sep 15, 2019

Sep 15, 2019 at 11:17 AM UTC

sayazandvouc

No Regrets

All of my life has been a search For things I could not see For matters founding in my heart For things that I could be I sold my home and life For principiality But everything was worth the price And Im remorselessly Yet I wonder now and then Whenever I am asked again What I have answered once Though I walked freely down that path And there is no regret and yet I wonder what I felt inside What caused my mind to set This way along the past What craving caused my vast Amount of ruthlessness I lost my time, with no remorse, And all of my appeal The breaking clocks may have been worse But still, I could'nt feel Nor understand what Ive been searching for And when I carried on my way I lost myself in forlorn days Where I found something new I never had been searching for And yet I felt that something grew Inside of me That let me fear The things about to come For I got lost, found by someone, Something that changed my mind I didnt want to lose that fast Nor leave it all behind And for the first time I did fight I changed the clockwork of my mind I chose a place, a time a side And wonder about all my life About decisions, thoughts and creeds I owned in future pasts For any deed I would regret And yet I wonder What have happened to my heart

50

For those who fall fast Past the pits of time to those depths of mind For those who refuse and refuse the refuge of a single thought in which they are sane A changing mind is no enemy A turning heart can tear apart the brightest of suns or the darkest of seas A changing mind may leave behind a life unadored But open your eyes to a life that was left unexplored

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Jun 27, 2019

Jun 27, 2019 at 3:15 PM UTC

lilly-frost

The Twist

For those who fall fast Past the pits of time to those depths of mind For those who refuse and refuse the refuge of a single thought in which they are sane A changing mind is no enemy A turning heart can tear apart the brightest of suns or the darkest of seas A changing mind may leave behind a life unadored But open your eyes to a life that was left unexplored

7

I feel my heart shrinking without light, without air feel the pressure increasing no space anywhere Crushing, constricting screams muted by lies but what will remain if anything does A fish out of water a bird thrown to the ground Adapting? Surviving? Or wilting, drying out I plucked myself I broke my core Now I'm left with the pieces I forced out of the puzzle and the puzzle keeps changing I can't put them back This hole in my chest frayed edges, torn pages For nothing, a thing Here I stand Withering

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Dec 11, 2018

Dec 11, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC

clara-6

Withering

I feel my heart shrinking without light, without air feel the pressure increasing no space anywhere Crushing, constricting screams muted by lies but what will remain if anything does A fish out of water a bird thrown to the ground Adapting? Surviving? Or wilting, drying out I plucked myself I broke my core Now I'm left with the pieces I forced out of the puzzle and the puzzle keeps changing I can't put them back This hole in my chest frayed edges, torn pages For nothing, a thing Here I stand Withering

23

Here I am slowly walking Down the road I have taken Have passed through the two roads Diverge in a yellow wood The choice has been made I chose to take this road. But I was defeated my mind is a traitor The thoughts of “could have been” Have started to win me over “It would have been better if I have chosen the other.” I feel so hopeless and helpless sadness, regrets and pain I don’t know when I’ll be able to reach the end. I looked to the direction Of where I came from I closed my eyes and saw again reasons why I’ve traveled this far I started to feel again The same feelings i have When I’ve taken my first step It was a desperate feelings Of excitement, untainted and pure. And then I remembered a poem That says to not regret and make a big difference With the choices we made. So I have managed to continue this journey with no turning back, Looking forward to the end Regardless of what’s waiting Despite it being unknown I have to make this choice A successful decision.

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Feb 5, 2018

Feb 5, 2018 at 8:04 PM UTC

hpotter

The road I have taken

Here I am slowly walking Down the road I have taken Have passed through the two roads Diverge in a yellow wood The choice has been made I chose to take this road. But I was defeated my mind is a traitor The thoughts of “could have been” Have started to win me over “It would have been better if I have chosen the other.” I feel so hopeless and helpless sadness, regrets and pain I don’t know when I’ll be able to reach the end. I looked to the direction Of where I came from I closed my eyes and saw again reasons why I’ve traveled this far I started to feel again The same feelings i have When I’ve taken my first step It was a desperate feelings Of excitement, untainted and pure. And then I remembered a poem That says to not regret and make a big difference With the choices we made. So I have managed to continue this journey with no turning back, Looking forward to the end Regardless of what’s waiting Despite it being unknown I have to make this choice A successful decision.

36

I have lived my life surrounded by concrete, bright lights, speeding cars, next door neighbors. My own brand of peace, of solitude, of quiet. It was all an illusion, for time has been filled with constant busyness. Now, as I get older I long for something different. I crave nature's wild sounds, I desire impenetrable darkness that holds my deepest secrets. I fear that my thoughts are exposed, what with all these streetlights shining like dented halos around my very existence. Alas, it is not meant to be. For as I draw near to the end, I suppose it is too late to move towards a different life.

0

May 17, 2015

May 17, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC

rod-e-kok

A Different Life

I have lived my life surrounded by concrete, bright lights, speeding cars, next door neighbors. My own brand of peace, of solitude, of quiet. It was all an illusion, for time has been filled with constant busyness. Now, as I get older I long for something different. I crave nature's wild sounds, I desire impenetrable darkness that holds my deepest secrets. I fear that my thoughts are exposed, what with all these streetlights shining like dented halos around my very existence. Alas, it is not meant to be. For as I draw near to the end, I suppose it is too late to move towards a different life.

29