Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jun 2015 tloco
Ignatius Hosiana
Their voices echo along the threads of time
I read their works on tattered pages
They say their words did but rhyme
Their's were for inspiration,not wages
They told stories like real witnesses
Of agonizing times and sicknesses
The soldiers of their sweet narrations
They say rode on horses of generations
Triumphant over the trend, glorious
Shooting arrows past lineages,like warriors
They fought against pride and Prejudice
Across boundaries, winged like Pegasus
They flew to bring merit of words and lines
And stood the test of time like wild pines  
They used sharp words instead of swords
Only received rejection ,sometimes nods
Walked long distances,endured perspiration
Sleepless ,so to cultivate some inspiration
They were young but with mature souls
Their relentless effort vividly like Moles
Burrowed through even hardened hearts
And with needles of kindness stitched cuts
Finely weaved justice on paper like Mats
And spread it for the world,across all parts
When speech was hated and persecuted
They stood strong and instead recruited
The course of changes threatened to slay
Erosion corroded letters worse than clay
Their beautiful hearts where kindness lay
Were battered and butchered causing hope to decay
A season came when all was but a lost cause
And were tales of how once upon a time it was
Yet again like a phoenix someday they rose
From the ashes of history, how? Nobody knows
They were stronger and mightier than mortals
And travelled through un fathomed portals
They built a very powerful mental kingdom
Above the prestigious tower of wisdom
Where they reigned like the fires on doom at Mordor
Freed so many prisoners of their situations
Across the entire universe and her nations
Gave them keys so they unlock more doors
Stanzas crawled like maggots across all avenues
With mixed feelings the world received the news
Though were skewed to embracing the return
Because for once they saw a flame of peace burn
Their tears were wiped by every piece they read
Poets let them realize war wasn't only in their head
Reason flowed like waters in fountains and streams
Readers believed once again in their dreams
And like poetry and poets they didn't sit back and cry
Every poem they read,sad or not told them to get up and try
And when they finally got victory over their inner strife
Not even once did they forget poems changed their life
Don't know why I wrote this one, just bumped in my head
 Jun 2015 tloco
Jane Lame
I learned this in undergrad; That I'm a "yes person" defined. In self-defeatist monotony, I think I burned out my mind.

Hypocrisy personified, notebooks filled with lies. Prerequisites were full of ****. Required, to them, didn't apply.

Monopolistic macroeconomies, business school taught me to hide. A complete lack of self-reliance, an endless search for a diagnosis.

Cross-tabulate, over-analyze. I swore to them, "I'm fine." But, what's an existential crisis? I'm just asking for a friend.

Procrastinate to copulate, never finishing on time. My inability to articulate, dying to feel alive again inside.

Hesitation turned desperation, finally deciding to speak my mind. It only took me five years to admit that I was just too starved to shine.

— The End —