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HeenaN Feb 2018
Luck, you lucky *******.
You're welcome wherever you go -
People call and people crave
And pine for you, you know.

What wounds that have healed,
What treasures that are found,
And adventures, unseemly though -
They seem to love your company
All of the best in life -
But to my humble companionship
You're always saying, "No."
HeenaN Jan 2018
At the halfway mark
Looking behind me
I only see flash cards
Memories and Mistakes.
It went too fast.

When I look ahead again
Wearing my blinkers and
Keep my eyes on the prize
I wonder if while trying to get there first
I’ve left everyone so far behind that

That I’m out of reach
And it’s immaterial
If I win. Cause at the finish line
There won’t be a soul in sight
Not even mine.
HeenaN Jan 2018
Run. Walk. Crawl, but move.
The Turnstile is not an obstacle,
It’s simply there to prove.
That the destination is available -
Once you’ve paid your due.
HeenaN Jan 2018
He has wandered for a while,
And come to find his territory,
A place where he has finally beat
All others & all odds.
The wounds of his journey shine.
On his ragged, sunburnt coat.
They make him look uglier
A lot more than his innocent soul.

A soul, that from being beaten
Being chased for no reason
Simply cannot discern,

Between love and fear.
So when people come near,
He growls and suspects
Because he doesn't know if a person
Wants to torture or touch.
And he can't find out once more
Not the hard way.

His only pride now -
is to guard his dirt.
To pretend it's worth.
To pretend he's king.
To roam the earth.

And it's only a matter of time
Before he scars someone else.
An act of a beast -
Simply set in his ways.
And finally the soul of that child
will resemble it's mane.
And the world resolves again.
To hunt all strays because
"They are evil",
They're all just the same.
HeenaN Jan 2018
The air ferries me forward.
I’m riding on the winds of change.
When I hit the dead end -
My pride will smash on the pains
Of windows kept shut in disdain
For my kind. The kind who have
No kind to gain. Nor to lose
Or loosen any chains.
But end up being shackled
As stardust in the same
kind of Air that would choke us
Till it ****** rains.

— The End —