#probable - Hello Poetry

It's a possibility, you know me, but a probability, that you don't possible you'll see me, but probable, that you won't A possible connection, the kind that ever sings but probable, no music, no contributions bring Where it's a probable rejection, that cuts into my soul or a possible exception, losing all controls Everything in life, is possible, like songs within the wind not all things are probable, and so, here I go again I follow behind you, where probability is ever thin instead of beside you, where possibilities, never end

0

Dec 16, 2016

Dec 16, 2016 at 8:38 AM UTC

TemporalFugue

The shadows of what might have been

It's a possibility, you know me, but a probability, that you don't possible you'll see me, but probable, that you won't A possible connection, the kind that ever sings but probable, no music, no contributions bring Where it's a probable rejection, that cuts into my soul or a possible exception, losing all controls Everything in life, is possible, like songs within the wind not all things are probable, and so, here I go again I follow behind you, where probability is ever thin instead of beside you, where possibilities, never end

10

This is my real talk, just hope you like it. It's a bit lengthy, but give it a shot please. ✅ I live for the future I'll be making, who made that future which is my present? Am I responsible? Am I held guilty of the life I think is miserable to me? I control my actions, though some things make me have no say in them, like they are merely ought to be, but are they? I don't believe anything is written. We just rewrite everything assuming it's imagination; the power of The Mind, isn't it ephemeral? Everything? Time? What is the destination we are colliding into? Should we move along every particle flying towards nothing? There is no real escape. As I rabble the riverside and dunk my feet into its soothing, should I let go? Move along? Or might I stand still, held by my own weight down, like those pebbles in rest, nestling beneath me, what is flowing has to return to rub against them, why should I meander aimlessly, come back to what I am? Travel so far for what I am now. Searching for what I need everywhere else,when it is me I need to be. Should I not proceed? What is beyond me? Or is there just me? Because when I'm gone, there really is nothing for me. I am and I was, but can I say for sure that there will be a me? Something radioactive degrades, transits into another form. Is the time that's degrading, being formed somewhere else? Is there another life exploding? To be heard? Or to just be left as it is, untouched by our Midas one? Is that other time nearby, few steps from our physical self; light years away, Or is it yet a million years to go? Because I don't have a million years to live, To stay, to define my destiny. The pain of the past won't leave so I'd have to, To leave behind me, My legacy.

0

Apr 26, 2018

Apr 26, 2018 at 2:44 PM UTC

__XyLOS__

Free mind bothers

This is my real talk, just hope you like it. It's a bit lengthy, but give it a shot please. ✅ I live for the future I'll be making, who made that future which is my present? Am I responsible? Am I held guilty of the life I think is miserable to me? I control my actions, though some things make me have no say in them, like they are merely ought to be, but are they? I don't believe anything is written. We just rewrite everything assuming it's imagination; the power of The Mind, isn't it ephemeral? Everything? Time? What is the destination we are colliding into? Should we move along every particle flying towards nothing? There is no real escape. As I rabble the riverside and dunk my feet into its soothing, should I let go? Move along? Or might I stand still, held by my own weight down, like those pebbles in rest, nestling beneath me, what is flowing has to return to rub against them, why should I meander aimlessly, come back to what I am? Travel so far for what I am now. Searching for what I need everywhere else,when it is me I need to be. Should I not proceed? What is beyond me? Or is there just me? Because when I'm gone, there really is nothing for me. I am and I was, but can I say for sure that there will be a me? Something radioactive degrades, transits into another form. Is the time that's degrading, being formed somewhere else? Is there another life exploding? To be heard? Or to just be left as it is, untouched by our Midas one? Is that other time nearby, few steps from our physical self; light years away, Or is it yet a million years to go? Because I don't have a million years to live, To stay, to define my destiny. The pain of the past won't leave so I'd have to, To leave behind me, My legacy.

29

Everything is possible not everything is probable and **** happens

0

Aug 7, 2018

Aug 7, 2018 at 8:39 AM UTC

TemporalFugue

Eh, ya never know (10w)

Everything is possible not everything is probable and **** happens

4