"depreciates" poems
*Nature depreciates beauty with time
Talent is the beauty mask!*
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 3:50 AM UTC
Maybe, we’re all wayward souls looking for a
way out.
Spent so long squeezing into factory shoes,
small enough to contain us
that we’ve become numb to these
hand-me-downs.
This society that holds our hands down.
Only raising them when it’s time to change shoes.
Feet out.
Toe’s pointed.
Watch your heels.
Years of this and we’re still wearing what they want us to.
Walking around like counterfeits,
reproductions, imitations, replicas,
when we’re only us.
Only ever been us no matter what they say.
It might be cliche, but it’s an obvious truth.
Feet out.
Toe’s pointed.
Watch your heels.
Us has never left us.
Pressing against the soles of our factory shoes as each toe
bends, folds, distorts, depreciates with every step.
But it’s finding appreciation in every step that,
loosens the laces.
It’s discovering no step is the same step that,
lifts the tightened lip a bit.
It’s learning how to walk while others run,
running while others walk,
that leaves you bare foot in a world of broken glass.
Feet out.
Toe’s pointed.
Watch your heels.
It’s taking leaps while others surrender
their ability to negotiate with
themselves.
It’s conquering the ability to dress yourself that wears out
the factory shoes on your feet.
Feet out.
Toe’s pointed.
Watch your step.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
The body rarely appreciates,
So however we treat it,
Eventually it depreciates.
The soul,
If we give to it,
Will grow,
Its glow is eternal.
Beautify the soul,
They way you would the body and even more,
Afterall its the inside that reflects on the outside.
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
Like machinery with use,
Life by time depreciates
Towards eternity.
May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 2:48 AM UTC
Where once lay a palatial house
Today there lies the ruins of a desolated structure
A carnival of rust and dirt
Torn and tattered
A structure which was once filled with life
Is now worse than a corpse
Cobwebs and ghosts are it's inhabitants
A place where once children used to play
And every festival was celebrated with immense joy
Where on new year's eve the entire house used to be dressed up in lights
Where once the sun used to shine bright
Today at that place even the moon doesn't come out at night
The stars have long left that place
And faded away into oblivion
It's always dark there...never will you see any trace of light
A weird smell and an eerie silence that is what defines the house now
The ocassional passerby still sometimes looks at the house and wonders--how???
How could a structure so grand be reduced to this?
Just goes to show that no matter how grand,beautiful and powerful you might be
With the advent of time everything depreciates
Time catches up with everyone and everything
And once you enter the winter of your life
Slowly but surely
The blackhole of death pulls you towards it
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 4:54 AM UTC
It’s the sound of emptiness that has me beat,
the king of a golden empire turning to silver at my feet.
My self-worth depreciates with every echoed whisper,
it wouldn’t change a thing if I told her that I missed her.
I am not wanting of this crown of despair,
it has been a beautiful muse,
but there has to be something more, somewhere.
Written a thousand love songs, that’s a thousand suicide notes I’ve left,
killed myself to commit a paramour to paper, her love I haven't kept.
It’s the thought of that emptiness that haunts me from my sleep,
Will I run out of reasons to stay if I have nothing left to keep?
I am not wanting of this crown of despair,
It has been a beautiful muse,
but there has to be something more, somewhere.
It’s the dream of living that keeps me from defeat.
The belief there’s a place in time and space where again we shall meet.
When the calcified streams flow after years of desolation and decay,
she’ll be waiting in the river to carry me home, to carry me away.
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC
Don't be too kind
Too loving
You'll be thought of
As weak
The small waves
Wear away the stone
Over time
The westerner
Misunderstands time
The nature of life
He must be constantly "doing"
His health depreciates
Because of the love of money
The world is an empty
Open space
Like a woman
It is nourishes all things
It lies low
In silence
It's okay
To be kind
And gentle
We are here to lose
You and I
Here to lose the game of life
I am here
Then I am there
I like living alone
And I don't care
I won't work
Won't work at all
There was a drone
Flying in the sky
In the park
On that day
I don't really have
Much to say
Except
It's repeating again
The cycles are repeating again
I live in a program
I cannot win
I'm poor
Alone
I don't care
This place is not
At all fair
I'm sick of those people
Go away
I don't want to see them
Not today
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC