#sensitivity - Hello Poetry

#sensitivity

Frightened stars Look for love, in the term of a fiend *** and difference, we have a tale that frowns Since to ends, a wisdom in the rain, has amends Sanity, spate, arrogancy Lips with no beginning or end, take the time Such is a creed that needs me, in the oracle of speed Wait on me to hate wholeness, of a carnal chime Safety, in the riches of a forest Wink, wood, and the anarchy of a patience Set aflame by the sight I imagine, continues in lest Spare me a tear for an enemy, rage of me never ends Done with my concern, can't a prettiness spite a spirit With the life of another speed, chance and challenge winds Come and go, sunshine, the night has a punk in the hint Of a simple smile, I have never made, and ate for inclined sins... Shade, do we even care? Song, can a ***** of burden sit in a sick's fever? Treacle, as if a war in the milk of heaven had a clever liar? Dance, in the mouth you swallow with, ink is ours for never? Dead, antipathy, lead Spice in the stare, my light has shared, with you Sakes in the blindness I sold to you, for a craving said Season's of a devil, my imagination ***** with your smile to... Love, many, and wishes Succor is mine, for every strength of a terror Simple as that, a ray of hope isn't what religion Meant, if and when a smile is nothing but my charity...

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4d ago

May 30, 2026 at 11:34 AM UTC

The Other Idea Of A Host's Name For Defiance, Charisma?

Frightened stars Look for love, in the term of a fiend *** and difference, we have a tale that frowns Since to ends, a wisdom in the rain, has amends Sanity, spate, arrogancy Lips with no beginning or end, take the time Such is a creed that needs me, in the oracle of speed Wait on me to hate wholeness, of a carnal chime Safety, in the riches of a forest Wink, wood, and the anarchy of a patience Set aflame by the sight I imagine, continues in lest Spare me a tear for an enemy, rage of me never ends Done with my concern, can't a prettiness spite a spirit With the life of another speed, chance and challenge winds Come and go, sunshine, the night has a punk in the hint Of a simple smile, I have never made, and ate for inclined sins... Shade, do we even care? Song, can a ***** of burden sit in a sick's fever? Treacle, as if a war in the milk of heaven had a clever liar? Dance, in the mouth you swallow with, ink is ours for never? Dead, antipathy, lead Spice in the stare, my light has shared, with you Sakes in the blindness I sold to you, for a craving said Season's of a devil, my imagination ***** with your smile to... Love, many, and wishes Succor is mine, for every strength of a terror Simple as that, a ray of hope isn't what religion Meant, if and when a smile is nothing but my charity...

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What do you know About this soul of mine - So sensitive, This fragile heart that couldn't Take the harshness - of the world? Is it my fault That every little thing triggers me? My brain that highlights Holds onto - every painful moments, Instead of the good ones. Is it really my fault? Did you witness me- Shrinking like maple leaf, At the coarse sound of thunder Or did you see my heart Carrying 100 kilos of weight Upon hearing that- One comment, One word? Their mood had always Free access over my emotional ground. You think I didn't try? I am sorry. I tried. Always tried, To survive, To get up from the pit I fell into at ten. Maybe if I didn't feel so much Care so much. Take everything so personally- My life wouldn't have- turned out like this.

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7d ago

May 27, 2026 at 2:36 PM UTC

What do you know About this soul of mine - So sensitive, This fragile heart that couldn't Take the harshness - of the world? Is it my fault That every little thing triggers me? My brain that highlights Holds onto - every painful moments, Instead of the good ones. Is it really my fault? Did you witness me- Shrinking like maple leaf, At the coarse sound of thunder Or did you see my heart Carrying 100 kilos of weight Upon hearing that- One comment, One word? Their mood had always Free access over my emotional ground. You think I didn't try? I am sorry. I tried. Always tried, To survive, To get up from the pit I fell into at ten. Maybe if I didn't feel so much Care so much. Take everything so personally- My life wouldn't have- turned out like this.

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The cyan of my vessels My bare heart swells Each scratch An inalienable mark A wild flower Fragile and resistant Wraps my emotions Tears by clumsiness Aroused when barely brushed Those who touch it Surprised by its acute sensitivity Unaware of the thunderous impact Of their grazes My scars tell The novel of my interactions With the sad rigidity of reality I do not pick at my scabs I let them gently come away Fascinated by the pink imprint The power of epidermal resilience Proud of my wars against my fragility I accept the aesthetic disharmony Of my childlike bruises I welcome my flesh in search of freedom A skin of soul, adventurous and sensual

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May 6

May 6, 2026 at 8:04 PM UTC

The cyan of my vessels My bare heart swells Each scratch An inalienable mark A wild flower Fragile and resistant Wraps my emotions Tears by clumsiness Aroused when barely brushed Those who touch it Surprised by its acute sensitivity Unaware of the thunderous impact Of their grazes My scars tell The novel of my interactions With the sad rigidity of reality I do not pick at my scabs I let them gently come away Fascinated by the pink imprint The power of epidermal resilience Proud of my wars against my fragility I accept the aesthetic disharmony Of my childlike bruises I welcome my flesh in search of freedom A skin of soul, adventurous and sensual

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I came out of the womb kicking and screaming Fighting monsters And crying You told me i was Too sensitive I was a young girl Violated laughed at Ignored Forgotten Rotten And bleeding You told me to stop screaming I was taught about death Cruelty Destruction Addiction Affliction And selfishness Never had a break Never experienced A beautiful lake Untouched unbroken A fairy floating With naivety And not knowing I always knew I grew Too fast Running From the demons In my past Never a moment To take a breath They say you're selfish To not have kids I say you're a ******* pig To raise a kid In a twisted world Like this To give birth And then forget You're responsible For that kid I became responsible And had to give Caring and love Emotions far above My age I was your support While I lost my self worth Nothing left but a sword To fight and slaughter My way through life Aliens Demons And death All came at me As I tiptoed off a ledge Exiting my very being Fleeing Childhood lost Life full of loss Now I'm soon to be a wife I look around As an adult And all i see The same monsters All around me They're real They're here They won't disappear The world is filled with bullies And killers Laughing at the different And non believers The world is cruel And as sick as you taught me It's so ******* Exhausting You should have held me Showed me a fantasy Fun and warmth Love and comfort Instead i got a sword I found with great discomfort I'm too sensitive You have always said But now i can understand It's them It's them They are mayhem It's them It's you If someone tells you You're too sensitive It means they're a bully You're not ******* pretentious They are abusive And you refuse to become Used to it I'm not Too sensitive It's ok to cry It's ok to look up And ask why You would tell me to die You would choke me And mock me Until i cried It's ok It's ok It's them It's them It's you It's you The world is full of bullies it makes me sick I'm not too sensitive I just refuse to become used to it I won't hurt Maim Or **** I will let it all in And feel I will help And heal Truth is I've realized this You are all too sensitive And let it out on me You took you sensitivity And made it a monstrosity Just like the world It continues to bleed I guess i can see Better then most Nobodies That being a bully Is terrible to be I just wished I was taught this Differently Wish i didn't have a sword As my only protector I wish I wasnt a fighter To all your thorns Wish I had fairies And cake And more Instead I became a warrior Still finding her worth Fighting the demons And all your cruel words I'm not to sensitive I'm not too sad The world is cruel And I'm just the child You wish you never Had

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Jan 28

Jan 28, 2026 at 2:22 AM UTC

Sensitivity with a sword

I came out of the womb kicking and screaming Fighting monsters And crying You told me i was Too sensitive I was a young girl Violated laughed at Ignored Forgotten Rotten And bleeding You told me to stop screaming I was taught about death Cruelty Destruction Addiction Affliction And selfishness Never had a break Never experienced A beautiful lake Untouched unbroken A fairy floating With naivety And not knowing I always knew I grew Too fast Running From the demons In my past Never a moment To take a breath They say you're selfish To not have kids I say you're a ******* pig To raise a kid In a twisted world Like this To give birth And then forget You're responsible For that kid I became responsible And had to give Caring and love Emotions far above My age I was your support While I lost my self worth Nothing left but a sword To fight and slaughter My way through life Aliens Demons And death All came at me As I tiptoed off a ledge Exiting my very being Fleeing Childhood lost Life full of loss Now I'm soon to be a wife I look around As an adult And all i see The same monsters All around me They're real They're here They won't disappear The world is filled with bullies And killers Laughing at the different And non believers The world is cruel And as sick as you taught me It's so ******* Exhausting You should have held me Showed me a fantasy Fun and warmth Love and comfort Instead i got a sword I found with great discomfort I'm too sensitive You have always said But now i can understand It's them It's them They are mayhem It's them It's you If someone tells you You're too sensitive It means they're a bully You're not ******* pretentious They are abusive And you refuse to become Used to it I'm not Too sensitive It's ok to cry It's ok to look up And ask why You would tell me to die You would choke me And mock me Until i cried It's ok It's ok It's them It's them It's you It's you The world is full of bullies it makes me sick I'm not too sensitive I just refuse to become used to it I won't hurt Maim Or **** I will let it all in And feel I will help And heal Truth is I've realized this You are all too sensitive And let it out on me You took you sensitivity And made it a monstrosity Just like the world It continues to bleed I guess i can see Better then most Nobodies That being a bully Is terrible to be I just wished I was taught this Differently Wish i didn't have a sword As my only protector I wish I wasnt a fighter To all your thorns Wish I had fairies And cake And more Instead I became a warrior Still finding her worth Fighting the demons And all your cruel words I'm not to sensitive I'm not too sad The world is cruel And I'm just the child You wish you never Had

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Ah—breathe long, then low. To see life through all these eyes is to walk with a handful of souls; every gaze lends you its weather, every borrowed sorrow fastens itself like a nail in your cross no resurrection promised, just then another stake, wooden splinters, impaled, consenting, enduring, until the heart grows unbearably heavy with knowledge it never asked to hold. And to see life not through your own, through a lens of unfathomable despair joy, love, sorrow none of it mine, none of it allowed to stay to blink from behind another’s mouth, another’s fear, another’s borrowed certainty, to shed a tear for that which is not your own ah, that leaves the heart drenched, worn thin, drowning in itself, more saturated and closer to rupture. A riverbed memorizing water from other streams, a cup polished smooth by lips that were never yours. I am clean only where I am empty. I have learned this: memory is a fire that both warms and consumes. Sometimes wisdom is letting it go letting names slip into the abyss, letting scenes soften into shades, letting the past lie down like a tired animal and sleep. And yet—fire in the darkness what else do we have? Memory is our last possession; no one can steal it without your consent. It is the only proof we once stood somewhere and mattered. Shadows in the stained-glass window yes, I often reflect. The stains, the flaws, they know my face better than mirrors. I watch myself layered with night, with rooms I have already left, with people who live now only as pressure behind the eyes. Tear drops and rain drops are they not the same? Both fall without apology. Both arrive from an overcrowded sky. Both leave the ground darker, richer, more honest and sometimes, yes, you get to play in the puddles. Sometimes I cannot tell if the wetness on my cheeks comes from grief or from weather passing through me. Perhaps the body is only a window, and sometimes I open it knowing the storm will ruin me, and the storm was never truly ours. So I stand here, carrying empathy, between too many eyes and my own failing vision, between forgetting and remembering, between wisdom and hunger, holding what remains: a heart still beating heavy and dry at once learning, slowly, how to see without drowning, how to remember without burning the house down. Ah, life teach me which eyes to close, and which one is finally mine.

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Jan 21

Jan 21, 2026 at 2:45 AM UTC

I Am Clean Only Where I Am Empty

Ah—breathe long, then low. To see life through all these eyes is to walk with a handful of souls; every gaze lends you its weather, every borrowed sorrow fastens itself like a nail in your cross no resurrection promised, just then another stake, wooden splinters, impaled, consenting, enduring, until the heart grows unbearably heavy with knowledge it never asked to hold. And to see life not through your own, through a lens of unfathomable despair joy, love, sorrow none of it mine, none of it allowed to stay to blink from behind another’s mouth, another’s fear, another’s borrowed certainty, to shed a tear for that which is not your own ah, that leaves the heart drenched, worn thin, drowning in itself, more saturated and closer to rupture. A riverbed memorizing water from other streams, a cup polished smooth by lips that were never yours. I am clean only where I am empty. I have learned this: memory is a fire that both warms and consumes. Sometimes wisdom is letting it go letting names slip into the abyss, letting scenes soften into shades, letting the past lie down like a tired animal and sleep. And yet—fire in the darkness what else do we have? Memory is our last possession; no one can steal it without your consent. It is the only proof we once stood somewhere and mattered. Shadows in the stained-glass window yes, I often reflect. The stains, the flaws, they know my face better than mirrors. I watch myself layered with night, with rooms I have already left, with people who live now only as pressure behind the eyes. Tear drops and rain drops are they not the same? Both fall without apology. Both arrive from an overcrowded sky. Both leave the ground darker, richer, more honest and sometimes, yes, you get to play in the puddles. Sometimes I cannot tell if the wetness on my cheeks comes from grief or from weather passing through me. Perhaps the body is only a window, and sometimes I open it knowing the storm will ruin me, and the storm was never truly ours. So I stand here, carrying empathy, between too many eyes and my own failing vision, between forgetting and remembering, between wisdom and hunger, holding what remains: a heart still beating heavy and dry at once learning, slowly, how to see without drowning, how to remember without burning the house down. Ah, life teach me which eyes to close, and which one is finally mine.

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It wasn’t the headline that mattered; it was the air around it. A simple story about a pipeline, background noise for a quiet breakfast. But then there was that grin too knowing, too layered for something so trivial. It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t kind. It was personal in a way that made no sense. If it had been condescending, I could have brushed it off. If it had been serious, I could have named it. But it lived in the space between the kind of moment you file away for later, unsure why it hums under your skin. I didn’t need to understand the politics, because the message wasn’t political. It was quieter, more instinctive the kind of thing you feel in your chest before you name it. If I were psychic, I would’ve called it exactly as it was: be cautious, people are watching. And maybe that was the point all along not fear, but awareness. The sense that something about me had crossed from private into public space, and I couldn’t unfeel it. From then on, I watched the world a little differently. Not suspicious, just awake. Looking back, I don’t think it was ever about politics. If it were, the energy would have been different sharper, simpler, easier to name. Instead, it was layered, personal without context. He seemed to know something about me that I didn’t know, and that imbalance carried its own kind of gravity. It wasn’t about right or left, opinion or belief. It was about knowing and being known and learning, too late, that the two will never feel the same. Maybe, in the end, it wasn’t warning at all. Maybe it was care, trapped in silence the body’s way of saying what words couldn’t: Take care of yourself; I wish I could say more.

0

Nov 12, 2025

Nov 12, 2025 at 11:30 PM UTC

It wasn’t the headline that mattered; it was the air around it. A simple story about a pipeline, background noise for a quiet breakfast. But then there was that grin too knowing, too layered for something so trivial. It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t kind. It was personal in a way that made no sense. If it had been condescending, I could have brushed it off. If it had been serious, I could have named it. But it lived in the space between the kind of moment you file away for later, unsure why it hums under your skin. I didn’t need to understand the politics, because the message wasn’t political. It was quieter, more instinctive the kind of thing you feel in your chest before you name it. If I were psychic, I would’ve called it exactly as it was: be cautious, people are watching. And maybe that was the point all along not fear, but awareness. The sense that something about me had crossed from private into public space, and I couldn’t unfeel it. From then on, I watched the world a little differently. Not suspicious, just awake. Looking back, I don’t think it was ever about politics. If it were, the energy would have been different sharper, simpler, easier to name. Instead, it was layered, personal without context. He seemed to know something about me that I didn’t know, and that imbalance carried its own kind of gravity. It wasn’t about right or left, opinion or belief. It was about knowing and being known and learning, too late, that the two will never feel the same. Maybe, in the end, it wasn’t warning at all. Maybe it was care, trapped in silence the body’s way of saying what words couldn’t: Take care of yourself; I wish I could say more.

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People think i’m sensitive They don’t know my battles They don’t know what i’ve been through and what i’ve emerged from They don’t know how strong I am If I’m sensitive Then being sensitive is the strongest of all

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Aug 12, 2025

Aug 12, 2025 at 6:14 AM UTC

Stronger Than You Think

People think i’m sensitive They don’t know my battles They don’t know what i’ve been through and what i’ve emerged from They don’t know how strong I am If I’m sensitive Then being sensitive is the strongest of all

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☔️ The depressed one is not sick, nor broken, nor lost to some disorder. He simply saw the world, its truths laid bare, its people unmasked, and found no beauty in the ruin beneath. It wasn’t madness that took him, but clarity. And the weight of so much ugliness he could not unsee. ☔️

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Jun 22, 2025

Jun 22, 2025 at 7:10 AM UTC

Depression Is Not Sickness

☔️ The depressed one is not sick, nor broken, nor lost to some disorder. He simply saw the world, its truths laid bare, its people unmasked, and found no beauty in the ruin beneath. It wasn’t madness that took him, but clarity. And the weight of so much ugliness he could not unsee. ☔️

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People have a very sensitive nature. The seemingly insensitive people are actually very hurt people.

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Jan 15, 2025

Jan 15, 2025 at 11:59 AM UTC

People have a very sensitive nature. The seemingly insensitive people are actually very hurt people.

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Know me... For a sound Of rainbows, with a key To an angel's home... Where is God... If I throw a light On heaven, and all it's ought Just the right side, of might... Made to know Making best of only worse Have I cheated you, from it's blow? Bare the smile, of sense of course... Walk by And I will say hi If decency, is no lie Just to remind, asking God for why...? Is like counting your blessing's, ******* Is merit to the man, with homes guidance, **** Is a worthier opulence, that just a hole, sharing dole Is a requited angel, that has seen the light, work

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Oct 31, 2024

Oct 31, 2024 at 11:36 PM UTC

Perhaps God Knows Where To Keep...

Know me... For a sound Of rainbows, with a key To an angel's home... Where is God... If I throw a light On heaven, and all it's ought Just the right side, of might... Made to know Making best of only worse Have I cheated you, from it's blow? Bare the smile, of sense of course... Walk by And I will say hi If decency, is no lie Just to remind, asking God for why...? Is like counting your blessing's, ******* Is merit to the man, with homes guidance, **** Is a worthier opulence, that just a hole, sharing dole Is a requited angel, that has seen the light, work

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Shadow education... Vows to step forward Create with me, a words intuition Told to sake, unrest for pardon Sorry thunder... Smoke is where a fire, sings along Interested in a voices blunder? Lightning sits the well, willful and strong... Can't? Men with a shoulder of intimation Separate a shyness, from the miracle we want An ode to hope, the rhyme of syncopation Oil in a lover's hindsight... Through and owed, more May is a wish to understand might Wisdom to venture, a silent war? The beauty of worth Set to irony's music... Justice pale, just served A moment to say, the world of a soul's wits...

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Mar 27, 2024

Mar 27, 2024 at 6:57 PM UTC

The Reason We Hide And Coincide

Shadow education... Vows to step forward Create with me, a words intuition Told to sake, unrest for pardon Sorry thunder... Smoke is where a fire, sings along Interested in a voices blunder? Lightning sits the well, willful and strong... Can't? Men with a shoulder of intimation Separate a shyness, from the miracle we want An ode to hope, the rhyme of syncopation Oil in a lover's hindsight... Through and owed, more May is a wish to understand might Wisdom to venture, a silent war? The beauty of worth Set to irony's music... Justice pale, just served A moment to say, the world of a soul's wits...

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I am a floating flower, Among the tallest tree. My petals, They fall once plucked from me. My pollen Decreases once ****** by bees. My roots Decay once ripped from leaves. I am fragile, Born from the smallest of seed. Grown and sewn, To the purest beauty. But wanderer and ponderer, Please let me be.

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Jan 3, 2024

Jan 3, 2024 at 4:14 PM UTC

I am a floating flower, Among the tallest tree. My petals, They fall once plucked from me. My pollen Decreases once ****** by bees. My roots Decay once ripped from leaves. I am fragile, Born from the smallest of seed. Grown and sewn, To the purest beauty. But wanderer and ponderer, Please let me be.

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I am delicate And fragile, My heart, Made of glass. I will shatter, And break From the life Of my past. My skin, Snow white, Not a hue in sight. For I rest wearily, On this cold night. But I wonder, And ponder, How we seem weak To seek. 'How 'soft' could one be?' They say to me. In times of hurt, Anguish And true defeat. I turn to face The ones of deceit, As they look upon me With disgust and grief. 'You are not as strong as you should be' 'Life is not full of roses and buzzing bees' 'It is indeed tough, but you must perk up' 'You must come into life , ready to fight' How can one Being, Tend to agree? On a life In stone And utter cold tone, For one Like a flower, Will blossom Like a tree. Will flourish And nourish The ones In need. Will save the souls That are lost at sea. I am delicate And fragile, And that is who I shall be.

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Nov 1, 2023

Nov 1, 2023 at 4:25 PM UTC

I am delicate And fragile, My heart, Made of glass. I will shatter, And break From the life Of my past. My skin, Snow white, Not a hue in sight. For I rest wearily, On this cold night. But I wonder, And ponder, How we seem weak To seek. 'How 'soft' could one be?' They say to me. In times of hurt, Anguish And true defeat. I turn to face The ones of deceit, As they look upon me With disgust and grief. 'You are not as strong as you should be' 'Life is not full of roses and buzzing bees' 'It is indeed tough, but you must perk up' 'You must come into life , ready to fight' How can one Being, Tend to agree? On a life In stone And utter cold tone, For one Like a flower, Will blossom Like a tree. Will flourish And nourish The ones In need. Will save the souls That are lost at sea. I am delicate And fragile, And that is who I shall be.

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I could be your darkness manifest And the first tidal wave. If you mock my peace I will, with mastery, Strip sinew after sinew. But bare me your honest wounds And I will create a universe From my lips, And from my hips. I was born into dogma And raised in decay I leapt at death to save me But caught my body just in time To see myself divine.

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Oct 30, 2023

Oct 30, 2023 at 7:21 PM UTC

Chapter 6: An uprising

I could be your darkness manifest And the first tidal wave. If you mock my peace I will, with mastery, Strip sinew after sinew. But bare me your honest wounds And I will create a universe From my lips, And from my hips. I was born into dogma And raised in decay I leapt at death to save me But caught my body just in time To see myself divine.

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Sometimes I feel defeated by the fact that socks can make or break my day How the same socks worn numerous times before can suddenly make me feel Too tense Too triggered Too trapped Uncomfortable socks is an omen of the bad things to come if I walk out the front door Yet when I have a bad socks day I find the strength to continue Safe in the knowledge that when the day ends I can throw them on the floor Upon the heaps of ***** laundry That I'm not in trouble for

0

Jul 3, 2023

Jul 3, 2023 at 11:08 AM UTC

Sometimes I feel defeated by the fact that socks can make or break my day How the same socks worn numerous times before can suddenly make me feel Too tense Too triggered Too trapped Uncomfortable socks is an omen of the bad things to come if I walk out the front door Yet when I have a bad socks day I find the strength to continue Safe in the knowledge that when the day ends I can throw them on the floor Upon the heaps of ***** laundry That I'm not in trouble for

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I am not sure which words to say Many thoughts crowding my head And pride plus fear get in the way I stay silent instead In no hurry to lay heart bare Each time I've done it before Sentences hung suspended in air You smacked them down to the floor You don't have the strength or sensitivity To face truth and come to grips This time what I'm longing to set free Remains barricaded behind closed lips

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Jul 21, 2021

Jul 21, 2021 at 11:43 AM UTC

I am not sure which words to say Many thoughts crowding my head And pride plus fear get in the way I stay silent instead In no hurry to lay heart bare Each time I've done it before Sentences hung suspended in air You smacked them down to the floor You don't have the strength or sensitivity To face truth and come to grips This time what I'm longing to set free Remains barricaded behind closed lips

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A HEART SENSITIVE AS MINE A wonderful night to a wonderful soul, a heart sensitive as mine. Catching your affection from a far. But my heart holds you close my precious pearl. My girl my angel. My love runs through the stream of your heart and formed love-ocean, there fell us two swimming through. Wishing you peaceful night my love. #C9fm

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Apr 10, 2021

Apr 10, 2021 at 8:15 AM UTC

cloudnine-fairmane-c-9-fm

A HEART SENSITIVE AS MINE

A HEART SENSITIVE AS MINE A wonderful night to a wonderful soul, a heart sensitive as mine. Catching your affection from a far. But my heart holds you close my precious pearl. My girl my angel. My love runs through the stream of your heart and formed love-ocean, there fell us two swimming through. Wishing you peaceful night my love. #C9fm

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THE FUTURE IS BORN Bury the past behind, live the life of the current moment. Love the moment and cherish the present time, can only hope' for tomorrow but is uncertain. Because no man knows what tomorrow holds, but the future is born put the past in the casket. Tomorrow's unfold just got to open the mind and realize on a real eyes where that hidden potentials is and how to discover and turn them to fortune. Some enormous talents are hidden underneath the soil of a man's mind. Mining the Talents which are invisible to the naked eye to realize. Requires a sanely sensitive creative mind gazes what the brain thinks. #c9_fm

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Dec 9, 2020

Dec 9, 2020 at 1:28 PM UTC

cloudnine-fairmane-c-9-fm

THE FUTURE IS BORN

THE FUTURE IS BORN Bury the past behind, live the life of the current moment. Love the moment and cherish the present time, can only hope' for tomorrow but is uncertain. Because no man knows what tomorrow holds, but the future is born put the past in the casket. Tomorrow's unfold just got to open the mind and realize on a real eyes where that hidden potentials is and how to discover and turn them to fortune. Some enormous talents are hidden underneath the soil of a man's mind. Mining the Talents which are invisible to the naked eye to realize. Requires a sanely sensitive creative mind gazes what the brain thinks. #c9_fm

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Dedicated to those Whose heart doesn't only pump the blood But feels something more Thank you

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Nov 2, 2020

Nov 2, 2020 at 1:32 AM UTC

mystic-ink-plus

Dedicated to those Whose heart doesn't only pump the blood But feels something more Thank you

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