"rra" poems
I never knew
you thought of
me
as beautiful.
Til the night you played me
your scratched record.
It skipped
it was filled with d is sona nce
It had no consistency
but its consistency of cacophonies.
Others would have
thrown the record away,
unable to bear its e
rra
tic ways.
Others would have said it's Broken.
Unfixable.
A disaster.
Too much.
;
But you ,
you weren't like the others.
You did not want to throw away the scratched record;
you did not even want to take the scratched record to a repair shop,
for you ,
you somehow seemed to find
a harmony in the scratched record.
So you closed your eyes to the endless loop of the scratched record
and said It was the most beautiful song you've ever heard
Because to you,
The most beautiful
are the most broken.
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 4:41 PM UTC
what’s the hurry
one of my elders told
me about the power of
stillness you scurry
hoping you will make it
in time he said i will ne-
ver be able to capture
the essence of life if i am
constantly bewildered
worried that clear visions
will turn out muddy chasing
another human for fulfilment
questioning whether he or she
will love me am i enough for my
loved one’s endearment judging
how other’s worry forgetting about
my own commitments my elder told
me to be at peace with the past and
appreciate everything that is
worth loving everything that is not
will in due time reciprocate these
thoughts that build on your spiritual
enrichment
-t.m
Sep 11, 2020
Sep 11, 2020 at 5:09 AM UTC