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#rhetorical
Sound rhetorically But honestly It's what I see Repeatedly you are to me Quite literally The apple tree When I am eve When i belief In sweet relief So full of grieve Not mine too keep But mine to leave To rot inside my heart
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Mar 7
Mar 7, 2026 at 7:23 PM UTC
Your fingers leave me empty
Sometimes we sprint for a person so much, That their response becomes obvious. Wondering— What really mattered?
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Nov 22, 2025
Nov 22, 2025 at 12:59 PM UTC
Mattered?
it’s a journey down a river, rocking southward bound. the candlelight may flicker, but the path is safe and sound. listen, as they wonder, the life that you may lead: a world exists down yonder, a world at last achieved. the steady stream of starlight shimmers in the waves; the sun sets and bows to night, the daytime at its grave. will you be forgotten, as you fall, far below? white water churns untrodden, the depths beneath aglow. your body turns to whispers, your soul into pale gold, and when the nighttime withers, your story will be told. sat around the fireside, the tale that all overcomes, a legacy passed on with pride, and into legend you become.
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Jan 16, 2021
Jan 16, 2021 at 5:58 AM UTC
at long last, the end
Thousands. A fable of freedom and loss is the story that has been told a thousand times. But is that to say that the same words passed between a thousand men a thousand times over a thousand years are worth a thousand times less? That the meaning is a thousand times lost? Barely whispers on an open stage. That if a thousand by a thousand men plant a thousand trees in a thousand meadows the earth would be a thousand by a thousand trees richer, but if a single man were to plant a thousand trees in a thousand meadows the earth would be a one man poorer. Freedom was a man who never knew his name, he was the man who's story was told over those thousand years and he is the man who is making the earth a thousand by a thousand trees richer.
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Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 2:35 PM UTC
Thousands.
What's in a name? I know, that question's passé and lame But, really, what is in a name? Zucchini and courgette, are they not the same? What's in this fruit's call to fame? What's in a name?
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Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 9:08 PM UTC
Zucchini or Courgette?
Do rhetorical questions serve a purpose?
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Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 5:01 AM UTC
Rhetorical Questions
Must everything be black and white? Must we choose left or right? Wouldn’t either choice eventually take us back to where we began? What if we made our decisions based upon the needs of others, wouldn’t that be grand? Mustn’t the pendulum meet in the middle before making it’s next move? Wouldn’t the clock’s tick tock stop without this groove? Are decisions made on predefined options still based on our own choices? What if we instead made decisions using our own voices? Why then is the road less travelled? Is it because it’s only made clear when the facades built upon it unravel?
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Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 2:42 AM UTC
Do we have a choice?
Isn’t it odd that people ask rhetorical questions?
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Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 11:10 PM UTC
Untitled
Mock me if you will What are you that others mock? Do you mock yourself?
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Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
Mockery’s Mirror
The bottom of the nowhere land has got me torn and jaded. Learned alot from- say no more! I’ve learned alot. Kiss me in the rain water somewhere, someone must feel it. Lies through the teeth have made the sight weak No, no more. Littered with sand storms and hateful the tides pulling off from the ***** Crack the skull- pull out the pain, That’d be nice. Call out to the voices of heaven do you hear more than you thought? That’s just your- Nevermind that. I’m sure it’s all true. Lizard skin and slithering wellspring locked into eternity’s grip What could it mean? Or does that question Even make any sense?
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Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 2:37 AM UTC
Meaningless
Yes, it's seemingly a nonsensical rhetorical question, but, for that precise reason, it will illustrate a lesson, if you so desire to tag along for this short session. Per Wikipedia, "The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus. It is an odd-toed ungulate mammal belonging to the taxonomic family Equidae." Hmmm... I much prefer that the horse goes "Nay," eats hay, has a mane, and is ridden by cowboys, cowgirls, Indians, equestrians, knights, jockeys, conquistadors, Mongols, and all. Even better, just point a horse out or otherwise show a picture to a kid and they will never be mistaken again. Even the littlest ones will never be stumped when faced with a rhino, tiger, giraffe, camel, and such. Admittedly, there is a worry that we could be fooled with that of a donkey or mule. How come no one has taken advantage of this?! What a scam to get us rich! "Duh doy," you say, cause we all know when we see a horse, so why would anyone try to trick us with an *** Well I ask you in turn, why does anyone try to trick us with good art versus bad, let alone art versus crap? How could anyone fall for that?!
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Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
Rhetorical Question: What is a horse?
What makes me human? Is it... The constant craving for more? The lust for power? The uncontrollable rage? The unsettling stomach? The need to feel on top? Standing above everything with a head held high? or The pushing of others just in spite? Is it all of them? or None of them? Is it that we feel love? But what is love? What makes us HUMAN...
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 4:42 AM UTC
Human...
The whole is equal to the some of its parts and my parts are **** the rest of me could only follow suit as the law--the theory--the timeline--the cosmically known universe insert bigger word here consumes, consumes-- bites down on me. If part one fights to be what I hope is to be good and part two fights to become the character foil do the parts equal nothing? If a tree falls in the woods and-- no one is around to hear your stupid lies? If one plus one equals two then that's me, and you, and Who is that? If the whole can't be whole without its parts can space be space if we haven't seen the whole of space bars at night close in the morning and the more I ponder and ponder and think about it You are no more better than me Than I am of you
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Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 8:38 AM UTC
More Than You
Its weird how small things in life, Will give you so much pleasure. The fact that another person remembers you, When you have been trying to forget that world. That she took out time, Lowered her ego and called you asked you if you were fine. With mischeif or malice or sinister intend. Thats flattering. Thats so ghastly over whelming For all she wanted to know about were how badly my boats were burning down.
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May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 5:57 PM UTC
Truth left a bitter taste in my heart.
After all the effort I kept I tried so hard to let her know, let her understand how I feel And she was kind, yet showing interest She made me fall deep, deeper, deep, deeper When all she really wanted is friendship Yet she kept it a secret I'm sure she was unaware this could hurt me in future Not until when I left her with no choice but to utter something If I knew I wouldn't have pushed,   but I was convinced we are walking the very same paths Surely her answer caused me nothing but trauma And I realised she can't even consider my feelings How can I stand beside her? Will I ever hug friendly greetings? will I ever shake hands without intending to kiss goodbye? This gonna be hard to just ignore and adapt to friendship How can I be friends with a girl I bearly love? Love sometimes is so stupid and selfish How can it be such a lier? Sometimes I wish love can just be saying I love you,   but it is more than that. The moment I set my eyes on her and she stare back The first time we conversed I was so convinced she's in love too I was convinced the only thing left is nothing but consensus But then it turned out with disapointment "I'm not ready for love friendship of course is great to meditate" (she said) Just for console, when I realise I'm stuck in these feelings I pitched, you can take all the time you need to be true with yourself, simply like I'm fine by it when I really am touched.
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Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 11:14 AM UTC
It's friendship she wants
I lie down up my head I breath becalmed, yet I crumble How I kept my trust? You crippled my thoughts, Of being a lovely darling, Of being a humbled sweetheart I remember that day How pleasant it was? To require you a break through enter my sincere heart How I proposed you to be my destiny, destiny of my sincere fragile heart mmmh! how delicately sensitive it was? A victory of your fluffy heart My dearly first and last chance to strike you, tell at once In heart, I found love Where is it now? all gone! How disappointed I am? The thoughts of being, you were mine We were happy all together How I was? blind to see How you pretend? Yes you can! I'm miserable how I lost you How fastidious it was, by your smile you blinded me.
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Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 2:20 PM UTC
How sweet it was?
*Why must we fall even when there's none to catch us? Why? Is love a blessing or a curse? Is it truth or lie? Why must we lose our hearts to their breakers? To little palms that will ultimately release them aground Why must we be seekers? Why do we only feel at peace with another soul around? Why must we spend sleepless nights contemplating Who our hearts whole shall mend? Why not opt for self electro-plating? So that we own hard metallic hearts to the end? Why do we embrace vulnerability in the name of being human? Why is passion such an embraced tumor?*
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
WHY?
I wake up, its morning, the window pails are covered with frost, I look up, it’s Monday, I ask myself why I feel so lost, I settle on the fact that it’s my passion to always come first I sigh, shake my head and ask what success costs It wasn’t easy; diligence, hardwork and discipline: is all these a must? I wake up, its Tuesday, had the same question I had yesterday, Must I always have a singleness of purpose, a goal every day? Yes, came the reply, yes and please my son don’t you go astray Patience is a virtue, needed amidst a world of delay 11 pm, on my bed I lay, with a tiny bit of dismay I wake up; it’s the 3rd day of the week I’m still searching, although I know not what I seek All I know is life should be more than a clock going tick tock tick ‘What I wanted’ was an obsessive mission making me sick Many answers to my question, why couldn’t I pick? Thursday it is, vibrant I am, this day will be the best I feel I have enough strength to withstand any test I walk head high, everywhere; chin up, with a protruded chest At the end of the day, I’m back on my bed, my safe haven, my bird’s nest All the while, while I drift off to sleep, I ask ‘was all my enthusiasm just fake zest?” It’s Friday, the end of a tough week, opening of the weekend I’m happy, it’s a chance to relax, time to straighten out the bends Your laughter, your smile, your everything, I think it’s all pretence I’m a pessimist some say. Sorry that wasn’t my intent Friday rolls away, still not a day well spent! 9am. Its Saturday, wow, 5 days gone with the wind Today will be special, yes I am quite determined Hour goes after hour, and yet again I have sinned The sin of expecting too much; this life what does it even mean? I sleep when all mankind goes to sleep, just like my next of kin. Sunday, the day God rested from all HIS toil A day of blessing surely, free of all turmoil I go about my business, my work on this Earth soil It’s an ok day I conclude, life is like an aluminum foil Use it in the right way, or be sure your food will spoil So in retrospect, I sigh and I look back 7 days of the weeks, all gone, all looks dark Everyone rushing to ‘God-knows-where’, just following the pack No one question the destination of the race, wow, all have missed the mark So today on a great journey I embark I called today the 8th day, I’m getting rid of all this slack I look to God, I ask him to please get me back on track Tired of all this wandering, my fear of attack I’ll take on each day, with renewed vigor, like how I feel after eating a good snack Away with all the questions, I thank God I’m back.
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 4:58 AM UTC
Lost in the days
I wake up, its morning, the window pails are covered with frost, I look up, it’s Monday, I ask myself why I feel so lost, I settle on the fact that it’s my passion to always come first I sigh, shake my head and ask what success costs It wasn’t easy; diligence, hardwork and discipline: is all these a must? I wake up, its Tuesday, had the same question I had yesterday, Must I always have a singleness of purpose, a goal every day? Yes, came the reply, yes and please my son don’t you go astray Patience is a virtue, needed amidst a world of delay 11 pm, on my bed I lay, with a tiny bit of dismay I wake up; it’s the 3rd day of the week I’m still searching, although I know not what I seek All I know is life should be more than a clock going tick tock tick ‘What I wanted’ was an obsessive mission making me sick Many answers to my question, why couldn’t I pick? Thursday it is, vibrant I am, this day will be the best I feel I have enough strength to withstand any test I walk head high, everywhere; chin up, with a protruded chest At the end of the day, I’m back on my bed, my safe haven, my bird’s nest All the while, while I drift off to sleep, I ask ‘was all my enthusiasm just fake zest?” It’s Friday, the end of a tough week, opening of the weekend I’m happy, it’s a chance to relax, time to straighten out the bends Your laughter, your smile, your everything, I think it’s all pretence I’m a pessimist some say. Sorry that wasn’t my intent Friday rolls away, still not a day well spent! 9am. Its Saturday, wow, 5 days gone with the wind Today will be special, yes I am quite determined Hour goes after hour, and yet again I have sinned The sin of expecting too much; this life what does it even mean? I sleep when all mankind goes to sleep, just like my next of kin. Sunday, the day God rested from all HIS toil A day of blessing surely, free of all turmoil I go about my business, my work on this Earth soil It’s an ok day I conclude, life is like an aluminum foil Use it in the right way, or be sure your food will spoil So in retrospect, I sigh and I look back 7 days of the weeks, all gone, all looks dark Everyone rushing to ‘God-knows-where’, just following the pack No one question the destination of the race, wow, all have missed the mark So today on a great journey I embark I called today the 8th day, I’m getting rid of all this slack I look to God, I ask him to please get me back on track Tired of all this wandering, my fear of attack I’ll take on each day, with renewed vigor, like how I feel after eating a good snack Away with all the questions, I thank God I’m back.
Continue reading...
45
Have we met? Maybe yes, maybe no But in your head There must be an image of me. Either real, sketchy, vague or an imagination To some a rare gem To others is a beautiful devil And to you... maybe just a facebook friend. Maybe it’s the smiling girl In my profile picture, Who got your attention... Or maybe it was that awkward update That got you thinking. Or maybe it’s the color of her eyes, Or is it the long slender legs In that party dress as she walks across the street? Mhhh... Just maybe You must be wondering Why am writing all this I would love to answer you But I really don’t know What my last line will be like. So, will keep writing... Do you ever wonder why this girl isn’t constant? Today she is in love Tomorrow her man is a pain on her neck, One minute she is your friend The other minute you are a stranger I think i know why... She is like you, she is human! She may not live long enough To defend all her flaws Or brag about her perfections But I can tell you a few things about her... Some she isn’t proud of But others she wouldn’t change Just to please a crowd She has a beautiful heart To complement her warm smile But she has a temper too Which beats that of a betrayed woman She is opinionated But still a good listener. But an insensitive word... Hurts her like a sharp sword. So, if you haven’t met her, Now you know something about her Do I need write more? Oh yes, tomorrow i will write, and the day after Maybe about you, or about my shoe or the trees Everyday I will write. C@P2013   September 4, 2013 at 8:53pm
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 11:56 AM UTC
THINKING ALOUD... by Purity Kim
Have we met? Maybe yes, maybe no But in your head There must be an image of me. Either real, sketchy, vague or an imagination To some a rare gem To others is a beautiful devil And to you... maybe just a facebook friend. Maybe it’s the smiling girl In my profile picture, Who got your attention... Or maybe it was that awkward update That got you thinking. Or maybe it’s the color of her eyes, Or is it the long slender legs In that party dress as she walks across the street? Mhhh... Just maybe You must be wondering Why am writing all this I would love to answer you But I really don’t know What my last line will be like. So, will keep writing... Do you ever wonder why this girl isn’t constant? Today she is in love Tomorrow her man is a pain on her neck, One minute she is your friend The other minute you are a stranger I think i know why... She is like you, she is human! She may not live long enough To defend all her flaws Or brag about her perfections But I can tell you a few things about her... Some she isn’t proud of But others she wouldn’t change Just to please a crowd She has a beautiful heart To complement her warm smile But she has a temper too Which beats that of a betrayed woman She is opinionated But still a good listener. But an insensitive word... Hurts her like a sharp sword. So, if you haven’t met her, Now you know something about her Do I need write more? Oh yes, tomorrow i will write, and the day after Maybe about you, or about my shoe or the trees Everyday I will write. C@P2013   September 4, 2013 at 8:53pm
Continue reading...
53
An epiphany is something I now consider an antiquity; and relentlessly I have sought, a productive, unstoppable train of thought. But to no avail. Instead my words hit the page like Hell-hail; and it must sound tell-tale, But I still feel frail because I spilled my entrails onto this page and all i have are a few lines and a violent rage that can't be quelled until I'm known for poetic grace. Am I crazy? Did that sound sane? I have no idea; I have a strange brain.
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 11:41 AM UTC
writers block
Look at him, he walks so perfectly in the, morning moments, I don't think he can see what he used to be like to me. It seemed like, his innocent soul wanted me so much, and I wanted him so badly back to also join me in hand. Now I look at him, he's matured, I wonder if it was too much, he's passed the days that I should be entering. I probably, ruined most of his days, which he could have been, flirting and chattering away with girls. Prettier, smarter and potential I wish I had, but never ever had a chance. Now I see, I am just a loner in disguise. I honestly hate the feeling of the air, pushing into my lungs full of despair, I just simply want to make my way alone again. But what happened to that boy? The one who spent nights with me on the phone, it's like he erased himself from life completely. I just wonder to myself, was it because of me? Did he feel like he needed to mature? Because honestly, I don't feel maturity, at all, it's like he isolated romance on another world. I know he tries, I know he cares, he tells me a million times a day, but why do I feel so sickened by how I feel deep inside? The life of a loner in disguise.
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
Boarding Up.
Dear people of the world, I left you a letter. There, on the first asteroid on the right. Is hardship in paper and paint Worth more than dismay and wax Melting in prayer during a storm? Tell me, Friend, how wide Your face and all the world was When it's been raining stars And you left without umbrella? I saw how nights can twinkle - The endless raven highway. How many gods does it take To change a burned out star? It is so crazy that we are In time and space that hatches Life. It matters not. Like stars, One day we all run out of matches.
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 8:05 AM UTC
When Nobody Answers
Given the option to be with you was rhetorical; As inquisitive as I am, my curiosity replenished with every kiss
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 3:25 AM UTC
Rhetorics