Born Sep 2015
"Born"*
was created from lost hopes
dead dreams
unwritten tales
tough waves

"Born"
has magnitudes of words to be spoken
to be written
to be heard

"Borns"
profile is simple

If I told you my story*

You wouldn't be satisfied
You wouldn't understand it
you would seek more of it
and still beg me to stop narrating it
you won't bear the pains
but you will crave for the joys

"Born"
is most about reality, life
not much fiction
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
Have you ever thought why?
If give and take was the
ultimate measure in life
what did we give to be born
to gain the life in the first place?
Mohamed Nasir Jul 28
A baby born but not a grudge he bares;
Whose blood so clean so pure like mountain spring,
Yet unblemished by scandals, love affairs,
And not a pinch of what sorrow could bring.
And deep in sleep too young to know of love
And lust, of crime was done because of shame.
Of shame of sexual moments that drove
To dump him cold naked without a name.
He knows not now of being called outcast.
But hate would come and callous jibes would tear
His heart as he grows and knew his past.
Their wage of sin for decades he'll bear.
What Devine assignment on him seeing,
Like blissful saint in quiet contemplating.
Peter Balkus Jul 2
Hey you, born today,
welcome to the world!
Soon you will see
how great is to be
and to have.
I was not born with fear
fear was put into me
I was not born with insecurities
society skewed my mind to believe In beauty

I'm was born free, curious and untrained from formal normalitys
why must a individual become
parallel
normal is varied
so why do we try to be alike
and we try to fit into a illusion that a society created
a society that changes and grows
but how is so
people can't be different and unique
a double standarded we apparently have to abide by

we were born at different times and different hours
we are raised in different places and situations
do not let yourself be finalized by society's prisoners
pressure might turn coal into a diamond
but for others it will break them
AS Jul 31
We are born to live,
Not born to serve.

A choice,
In the ways we embark.

A responsibility in how we leave our mark!

A responsibility not to act like sharks.

Not born to owe,
To those who gave us life.

If all a nurturer does is inflict drama and rife,
They do not deserve anyone's sacrifice.

Those who expect,
Are a chore,
Draining you everyday and more.

Those who are gentle and kind,
Giving other the opportunity to fly and live their own lives.

It feels right to stay by their side,
Giving without any convert pain.

By the end of your life,
Reflects on how you treat those who support.

If your alone,
With feelings of cold.

Let go,
Look at all the damage you've exploded.

For the young,
let them live.

Not obligated,
pushed,
rushed or punished for deciding to let go.

A child is not owned,
not an object to control.

Letting them breathe,
accepting the way they lead,
will urge a return.

For anyone choosing to listen and learn,
a gate in the garden remains and no love wavered.

A lifetime more to savour from accepting the change!


© 2018

Abigail Sheard
haley Oct 2017
he wraps you in the seams of his quilted fleece jacket
only for you to tumble towards teetering ground with a
myriad of other dissipated items
a dollar bill
a cough drop wrapper
and breakfast bar crumbs.

his face backlit, the stained windows of the church
in which you have learned
that the weight of the world cracked atom's ribs
and made woman
the product of his suffering
but, eve
repeat:
you are not made from the vestige of this man nor the absence of him

you do not owe this to him
you do not owe him the gnawing on your fingernails: numb
you do not owe him your skin, he buries himself under
creates a crater in your chest and uses your heart as his cave

whisper: he payed for dinner (the one that you couldn't eat: your stomach pulled inside out from worry)
that he
doesn't love you
or worse
you don't love him
speak: nei softly nei fading
do not let him lick tears off your face
and tell you they taste like sugar:
rip that piece of paper that he wrote his
number on
slips his hand in your pocket at the club

for
he does not deserve you.
LexiSully Jun 4
It is alright to go to sleep upset,
For every morning the sky bleeds of fire,
And you are born again.
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