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"workloads" poems
My brother doesn't see what he is doing Only calling when he wants something So needy, when I need you more than as a convenience. I cannot give you more than I have. I gave you my support when you joined the military When they discharged you for hearing loss I held your head as you cried and told me that you had no worth. I remember when you were small before your growth spurt, when people picked on you--when I picked on you. I am truly sorry, maybe it is my fault you are this way.... You are a gentle giant some days, helping disabled children ride horses or help with large workloads. Yet you treat others so badly on most days You bully our mother Cuss the man that stepped in As our own father left us I hope this is simply a phase to grow out of. You act as though you are a freak, And you must fight anyone and everyone to prove your worth. You proved to me the night that I was ***** that you can be a man. You were only ten back then, but you slung your fist at him so hard I heard bones crack. I want that man as my brother, the man I know that you are capable of being. Why are you so arrogant? Why do your friends treat you as a god because you are abnormally tall? Does it make you feel good to put others down? I hope you see the error of your ways, before you look around at all the bridges you've burned, and you suddenly realize you are on an island completely alone.
0
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
Bridge Burning Brother
In the grand tapestry of teaching, oh what an irony, Heavy workloads and limited time, a teacher's reality. The demands of planning and administrative tasks, Leave little room for professional growth, an ironic mask. Standardized assessments hold their prominent sway, Personalized instruction often pushed astray. In the pursuit of measurable student success, Oh what an irony, tailored learning becomes less. Creativity yearns to dance with the curriculum's frame, But guidelines and standards can stifle its flame. Balancing innovation and prescribed requirements, Oh what an irony, creativity often expires. Assessment-focused teaching takes center stage, Holistic development may find itself in a cage. The pressure to achieve desired outcomes so keen, Oh what an irony, limiting the broader learning scene. Teachers, pillars of education, yet often unrecognized, Their impact immense, but acknowledgment minimized. In the realm of recognition and fair compensation, Oh what an irony, undervaluing their dedication. Autonomy, a cherished gift for teachers to possess, But administrative constraints can hinder their success. Top-down decisions and rigid schedules in place, Oh what an irony, limiting their teaching grace. Work-life balance, a delicate tightrope to tread, Nurturing students' well-being while their own is spread. In the pursuit of equilibrium, an ironic juggle, Teaching others to thrive, their own balance a struggle. Outcomes become paramount, their value held high, Yet the process of learning can sometimes pass by. Prioritizing scores over growth and lifelong skills, Oh what an irony, neglecting the learning thrills. In the world of teaching, ironies abound, Navigating the contradictions, often profound. But amidst these challenges, educators endure, Oh what an irony, their passion remains pure.
0
May 15, 2023
May 15, 2023 at 2:48 AM UTC
Oh what an irony in academics
In the grand tapestry of teaching, oh what an irony, Heavy workloads and limited time, a teacher's reality. The demands of planning and administrative tasks, Leave little room for professional growth, an ironic mask. Standardized assessments hold their prominent sway, Personalized instruction often pushed astray. In the pursuit of measurable student success, Oh what an irony, tailored learning becomes less. Creativity yearns to dance with the curriculum's frame, But guidelines and standards can stifle its flame. Balancing innovation and prescribed requirements, Oh what an irony, creativity often expires. Assessment-focused teaching takes center stage, Holistic development may find itself in a cage. The pressure to achieve desired outcomes so keen, Oh what an irony, limiting the broader learning scene. Teachers, pillars of education, yet often unrecognized, Their impact immense, but acknowledgment minimized. In the realm of recognition and fair compensation, Oh what an irony, undervaluing their dedication. Autonomy, a cherished gift for teachers to possess, But administrative constraints can hinder their success. Top-down decisions and rigid schedules in place, Oh what an irony, limiting their teaching grace. Work-life balance, a delicate tightrope to tread, Nurturing students' well-being while their own is spread. In the pursuit of equilibrium, an ironic juggle, Teaching others to thrive, their own balance a struggle. Outcomes become paramount, their value held high, Yet the process of learning can sometimes pass by. Prioritizing scores over growth and lifelong skills, Oh what an irony, neglecting the learning thrills. In the world of teaching, ironies abound, Navigating the contradictions, often profound. But amidst these challenges, educators endure, Oh what an irony, their passion remains pure.
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36
summer always feels the best and it shares all humans with no explanation. summer holds innumerable quests and they hold within them lessons and learning. summer can’t quite compare to winter with devoid gales holding ransom to the inside of an insulated wok. summer isn’t an escape from rough workloads and energy spent from winning all that bread. summer is a connection with self that permeates all fibers of the self and rejuvenates the soul.
0
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 4:52 PM UTC
summer
The first one A bully Keeping me on a leash Under threat of abandonment The second one left Moved to another state Robbing me even Of the opportunity to be chosen To cut his goodbye cake The third one was too girly Weak willed, too easily embarrassed and self conscious One who’d rather Be the star of a pretend fashion show Than attempt dangerous and Exciting escapades In the playground The fourth were a pair But new schools Different interest New friends New workloads Made it difficult to keep up And the relationship drifted away The fifth were once again a pair But, too caught up in each other Until a falling out with one And a lack of opportunities to see the other And eventual conflict between the two Shattered that relationship to a fragment of its former self The sixth was too self obsessed With too many problems of her own Sleep deprivation Prone to sicknesses Struggling with classes And a general lack of social awareness And extreme denseness And seriousness Ended that too And now, I’m on the seventh We shall see how it goes Thus far we are two completely different specimens of people One would opt for Scooby Doo and Agatha Christy The other for cheesy romance Asian dramas and light novels One would rather be building the sets The other, on the stage One cares nothing at all for other’s thoughts The other cares too much One wants to be a police woman The other simply cannot choose It shouldn’t be possible Yet it is And perhaps, it is our extreme differences that bring us together That keeps us from clashing Or, Maybe something in our respective personalities find solace in the other Whatever the case I hope we last
0
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
I hope we last
The first one A bully Keeping me on a leash Under threat of abandonment The second one left Moved to another state Robbing me even Of the opportunity to be chosen To cut his goodbye cake The third one was too girly Weak willed, too easily embarrassed and self conscious One who’d rather Be the star of a pretend fashion show Than attempt dangerous and Exciting escapades In the playground The fourth were a pair But new schools Different interest New friends New workloads Made it difficult to keep up And the relationship drifted away The fifth were once again a pair But, too caught up in each other Until a falling out with one And a lack of opportunities to see the other And eventual conflict between the two Shattered that relationship to a fragment of its former self The sixth was too self obsessed With too many problems of her own Sleep deprivation Prone to sicknesses Struggling with classes And a general lack of social awareness And extreme denseness And seriousness Ended that too And now, I’m on the seventh We shall see how it goes Thus far we are two completely different specimens of people One would opt for Scooby Doo and Agatha Christy The other for cheesy romance Asian dramas and light novels One would rather be building the sets The other, on the stage One cares nothing at all for other’s thoughts The other cares too much One wants to be a police woman The other simply cannot choose It shouldn’t be possible Yet it is And perhaps, it is our extreme differences that bring us together That keeps us from clashing Or, Maybe something in our respective personalities find solace in the other Whatever the case I hope we last
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57
City lights glowing on the horizon Busy traffic bustling the wide roads Chatter and car horns blaring in unison Worn out souls coming home from heavy workloads Bloodshot eyes feel like popping out Insomniac born from hundreds of sleepless nights Demons inside me scream and shout Pleading for a taste of freedom just for tonight Dim irises reflect the sorrows felt inside Fake smiles can't hide the dead soul behind Please tell me how to cross this wide divide Let me feed your lust, heal the ills of your mind Come with me now, its do or die Let's go away and find our northern lights Come now, don't be afraid, no more alibis Let's be free from our woes, just for tonight Fallen angels in search of a paradise In this dreadful hell people call Life A place of solitude just for us will suffice A sweet serenity in this lifetime of strife Let your kisses be my addiction Let your breathing be music to my ears Let me consume your lustful affliction Let me dive and banish your silly fears Let me loose myself in the city of angels Let me bask in the glory of its bright lights Let my demons burn from the touch of angels Bring me to where you are and calm my sighs You are the bright lights in my dim existence You are my soothing calm in this endless storm You satiate my longing just with your presence In this midnight love affair all of me you've restored Morning sunlight shines its rays on us Warm blankets wrapped around your curvatures The storms in our eyes gone in that quick rush Vanishing in the dust in our one night adventure
0
Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 1:42 PM UTC
Bright Lights
City lights glowing on the horizon Busy traffic bustling the wide roads Chatter and car horns blaring in unison Worn out souls coming home from heavy workloads Bloodshot eyes feel like popping out Insomniac born from hundreds of sleepless nights Demons inside me scream and shout Pleading for a taste of freedom just for tonight Dim irises reflect the sorrows felt inside Fake smiles can't hide the dead soul behind Please tell me how to cross this wide divide Let me feed your lust, heal the ills of your mind Come with me now, its do or die Let's go away and find our northern lights Come now, don't be afraid, no more alibis Let's be free from our woes, just for tonight Fallen angels in search of a paradise In this dreadful hell people call Life A place of solitude just for us will suffice A sweet serenity in this lifetime of strife Let your kisses be my addiction Let your breathing be music to my ears Let me consume your lustful affliction Let me dive and banish your silly fears Let me loose myself in the city of angels Let me bask in the glory of its bright lights Let my demons burn from the touch of angels Bring me to where you are and calm my sighs You are the bright lights in my dim existence You are my soothing calm in this endless storm You satiate my longing just with your presence In this midnight love affair all of me you've restored Morning sunlight shines its rays on us Warm blankets wrapped around your curvatures The storms in our eyes gone in that quick rush Vanishing in the dust in our one night adventure
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