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Oct 25 · 31
The stick
descending the downslope
soggy road bury my sole
a wooden stick lying between the woods
willing a hand for my trembling foot

over the flat trail
solid gravel balances my composure
I lie the stick above the lane
for it to partake in another adventure
inspired by my journey to a river
hanging out with a friend and his friend who became my friend,
loitering in front of a twenty-four hours convenience store,
0% sizzling down our throats,
and getting nicotine-sick afterwards,
it was that simple, sometimes.
Oct 10 · 142
humans a spare part
We have somehow deprecated our own species.
To become outdated hardware.
A candidate for the scrapping site.
Worth only to be a spare part.
**** ai art.
To forgive is our weakness
To pardon a crime so unjustifiable that
Our body shutdown in memory of it
Being static and null in our judges
In respect for our own calmness that
I hope it won't be a calamity of my
Own rationality in how I assume
Which is good and evil.

But somehow, to forget is our prowess
A strength that we teach ourselves so we
May let go of the bad memory
that may strangle us until we retch our spirit away
That's why, we bury it under our soil
And water it in hope
That it blossoms thorn roses so we remember not to touch its stem
And hurt ourselves again.

— The End —