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Deafening brazen censures,
Putrid acts of "kindness",
Bloodied heart of vanity,
Painted to seem worthy,
Clamored to seem wordy,
A twist with words,
A kiss of pain,
Your words of rusted steel.

Disguising disgust in compliments?
Please, don't waste your breath!
I know of your festering conscience;
I know of your elusive plays.
Cherish your words, my darling;
Stop using them for naught;
What use to cover a rotten figure,
In terribly plastered shells?

Enough with your mentality!
Wake up to the truth of reality!
It's not society that's broken;
It's you who's horribly meek!
You think I'm being harsh?
Snap out of your fantasy!
Stop sewing faux pas,
If you can't cover the seams!

Everything is darker than it seems,
Yet, there is also a light to it;
You intend to mold the truth out of Luma,
When you know it's bare of pain,
You already lost, expectedly;
You may get your cravings,
But you will never get what you are worth;
You've soiled your own pride.
Alas, the jester reveals its horrible self.
Woe is the ballad that fills my soul
It completes my ruthless eternity;
Like a bird on a tree, the food on one's bowl
Among all the nonsense that there is to be;

Being a second option,
A scapegoat to all your problems;
An existence worth giving oblivion;
The black sheep of the perfect system.

Not tears, nor even happiness
Is a solution to my melancholy,
The darkness that lie within my heart;
A hatred that cannot be quenched by anybody.

My screams cannot be heard
My conscience has been sewn;
I am but the world's breakdown;
A creation unhewn.

In these words, entwined
Something to keep everyone reminded
A message for anyone to find
A being's life, tormented.
Please be considerate. It's my first try on writing a poem about what I really want to say. But feel free to give your comments. :)
Let's just face it
we're all living a lie
thinking we're something
but eventually we'll die

we'll be forgotten
buried in the ground
or burned down to ash
and scattered all around
for those whose mothers are no more
the annual business hype of what to give
    and where to take your mother
is but  a sad remembrance of loss
stirring up memories of happier times
when she was still a pillar in your universe
loved and revered, and sometimes feared,
who taught you, patiently or not,  
the basics of survival in your expanding world.

She knew, while you were as yet unaware  
that all her loving preparations
would over time mean separation.

When you struck out to shape your life
all by yourself and left her with her fears for you,
her wishes,  and the hopes that what she tried
to give you was enough and right,
your heart and mind were elsewhere,  far away,
focused upon the future of your independent life.

Your years run fast and busy, and suddenly one day
you stand before her coffin
and discover that it is too late
for all the questions never asked.

What you have left are memories
and a vague sense of having missed the chance
to see - and maybe even understand a little -
the woman she has also been
throughout her life, behind her loving face
of a dear mother’s care and grace.
The recent Mother’s Day triggered these lines and made me remember the time when my mother was alive.]
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