"wrongdoings" poems
Another mistake
Another mishap
Adds up to the wrongdoings of humans
The number keeps increasing
Humanity tried hard to be perfect
Unable to accept that we are but flawed creatures
Truth be told
Accidents and mistakes help us progress
For the greatest inventions were creations of accidents
And mistakes the secret of knowledge
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
I am so sorry.
For every time I hurt you..
For every cruel word I’ve ever said to you..
For not seeing what you needed most..
For not being kind to you as much as everyone else..
For every tear you have wasted..
For every time I stepped on your heart..
For every time I didn’t believe in you..
For every time I didn’t listen to you.
I am so sorry.
For ripping you apart..
For destroying the beautiful things in you..
For always making you pay the price..
And I apologise for all the wrongdoings I caused you!
Forgive this fallible human that is you.
I am so sorry.
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:21 PM UTC
An imaginary but desirable sense of control
Created by the bully in my head
Screaming at me, pressuring me, hurting me
Encapsulating my mind as a second meninges.
Impossible to separate my true thoughts
From what it tells me,
My conscious mind is tied to a cinder block
And left to drown in its enticingly rough waves.
My physical being constantly changing with the tide
Unpredictable but regular,
Shallow but deep.
****** into its infinite black hole,
I am left feeling disgusted and ashamed
Of all that is me.
No longer am I able to decide the way in which
My needs are met-if in fact they are met.
As though I have DID, I am constantly bouncing
From alter to alter
Body to body.
Blinded from looking directly into its sun,
I am warmed and comforted by its rays
While reassured that my doubts are unwarranted.
If ever defied, it scolds and whips me,
Like a master to his slave,
A father to his child.
The welts and cuts, gratefully rip into my
Skin, muscle and bone –
Punishment for my wrongdoings and self.
I, immediately silenced
Remove myself from society,
Restricting contact, nourishment and emotions
To nil.
It is not until someone notices
The beginnings of an eternal invisibility,
That I am released and
Able to breathe in
The salty air of life.
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 9:29 PM UTC
Confined to eternal asphyxiation
They live a suffocated existence
No hope to regain what they took for granted
They showed no regard for earth, air, or water
This polluted wasteland, their planet
They cannot love each other anymore
Their punishment is solitude and xenophobia
What privileges they had, once upon a time
Affection and love, and interpersonal immersion
Now doomed, forever, to be alone
In this world destroyed by greed, desire, and lust
For power, the human beings atone,
They do not deserve to be alive, let alone
To walk aware of their wrongdoings
They should have been erased
I would have loved to be the executioner
Of billions sinful, lying, cursed, wretched,
Vile, incessant, promiscuous, vicious, insidious,
Slimy, wily, evil creatures humans are
Instead I have become their saviour
I feel no pity or sympathy for the Devils
They became in exchange of their materialism
I see them walk in masses of melancholy, loneliness
As I once did for which they showed no regard for me
And heartless, I ignore their silent cries for help
You are sentenced to life in prison, one like no other
Free to live in a society which shows more confinement
Than any man-made cell or coffin
Elements you took for granted shall be stripped away
Your sinful quest for immortality has led you accordingly
It is forbidden to breathe the air you polluted,
Drink the water you tainted, eat the fruits of the earth you destroyed
Your senses will be nullified and your spirits
Crushed as this planet was insufficient
For your corrupted existence .
Dec 3, 2009
Dec 3, 2009 at 11:38 AM UTC
I have a dream, no not that of Martin Luther king,
but that which is beautifully flawed, making you perfect.
I am no writer so bear with me as I try to put into words
That which my heart cries out. I pray that I will one day find you
And not because I was searching but because it is written.
I pray that our friendship will not be a toxic one
Where one gives and the other takes it all.
Oh dear future friend,
I pray that you won’t spend so much time self-
Proclaiming your worth that you forget mine,
When in matter of fact we are all worth life to the one
Whose opinion only matters.
I pray that you will love me enough to not have to
Play the victim always, nor I for that matter.
I pray you won’t have to raise your voice,
Just so your opinion matters for no one knows it all.
I pray you won’t abuse my nature so much that even
The lashes I’ve taken have no hold on your words.
I pray I won’t go to bed hurt because you failed to care
Oh dear future friend,
I pray you will show me my wrongdoings without condemning me,
Or proving again how much more righteous you are than I am.
I pray you won’t count the grains of rice I lend from you
To one day reclaim them all.
Oh dear future friend, I have a dream.
A dream where I will wake up everyday wanting
to try and be a better friend to you
Than I was the day before.
I pray that you will not only remember that you have a friend in me
Only when storms surround you, but that you will remember me too
While you dance in the summer rains lit with rainbows.
Dear future friend, I pray that we will write our own meaning
Of friendship, one that has no laws or subtle terms
And conditions applied.
But mostly oh dear friend
I pray that we will become friends
Not ‘because of’ but because
Just because
Dear future friend
I think I’m already in love with the thought of meeting you……..
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
It's not one thing
It's not five
It's not something I can
point to on a map
of my wrongdoings and my
rights
The geography of the
darkest places I have
within me
and the landscaped
version that I share and
I've
refined,
I'm sorry
It's not one thing, my love,
It's not five
It's all things all the time.
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC
forward forward forward
going somewhere moving forward
whether progressing or regressing
growing or unlearning
coming or going
living, dying
everyone believes they are moving towards something
and as everything happens all at once
each perceptive reality is entirely different than any other
and each consciousness travels, and does, and is.
each consciousness believes it has a purpose or a path.
the purpose is not to see into nor plan the future.
from the civilian to the hero tv shows and movies
have consistently glorified the ability to see visions of the future
generally this is followed by someone trying to prevent
the happenings in said vision from becoming reality
and distinctly failing because they "saw into" the future
that their own energy influenced
but the true super power is to be able to look into the past.
to prevent the omitting of details and data
to avoid a rewrite of our conscious interaction with this planet
not to white out the chapters that bear the truth in the textbooks
to recall history so it does not repeat itself
my question is then
do people disguise the wrongdoings of those hidden by the passing of time?
because they are ashamed of the mistakes of their ancestors pasts?
because they are ashamed of their participation in past consciousness's?
because they are ashamed of the atrocities humans have inflicted upon each other and themselves as well as their home planet since the beginning of recorded time here?
or do those who have the power to omit and hide history
purposely rewrite it?
do they mask the pains of the past so the rest of us will forget?
so that even they can forget?
so their next consciousness can unknowingly, while predestined,
have hand in crimes against the world all the same as committed in the lost past?
how many times has someone written these words
or a similar combination
only to delete the post?
burn the pages?
backspace the message?
stop themselves from speaking them aloud?
cover the symbols?
pass out of conscious living mid sentence?
lose them to a past lifetime?
how many times has this cycled through the same way?
how many times have I been me?
how many times have you been me?
how many times have I been anyone?
how many times have I been?
is there a rhythm or is it all as scattered and random
as the thoughts that bring you
to this kind of an understanding of the habit of misunderstanding?
the kind of thoughts that bring you back to the birds nest because you were too early for even the worm?
they will all catch up eventually
after all they all think theyre moving forward
and they don't even know where they've been.
they don't even know that they've been.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
This world wasn't meant for me.
To be all that you can be
means you must give in
to giving up one of your desires.
When you can feel your heart
by touching your wrist
you're able to close your eyes
and feel the Earth spin.
That is transcendence.
That is comprehension.
It's what cathartic energy
once was, before sacrifice was
essential for happiness.
This world hasn't accepted me.
I've only learned to
tolerate injustice and
repetitive wrongdoings
that history has tried
to educate the masses with.
They're written in
differing languages and
many books; books that implore
morals and ethics,
but place brothers and sisters
into groups of people
destined to fail.
Simply because
minor differences are easier
to swallow than
major similarities.
That's why this world isn't
meant for me, or you.
We sacrifice
our lungs for shelter,
and our hearts for love.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 9:43 AM UTC
staying up late just thinking of all the could-beens and should-beens that could and should have been us.
what if we'd tried a little harder? persisted a little longer? held on to each other as tightly as we should have?
would you be by my side then, instead of the empty void staring tauntingly back at me?
would our hands be clasped together, interwoven,
your eyes that once bored right back into the back of mind haunting me wherever i would go,
your touch tattooed into the skin of my palms as they once were?
what if i hadn't let go?
what if i'd learnt fate's cruel lesson that
possessing the trait of fickleness never awarded anything but everything slipping past, earlier?
would you be willing to stay with me then, and forgive me for all the wrongdoings that i would inevitably cause?
would we have ever evolved into more than just an idealized dream drawn from a fragmented memory,
the idea of an irrevocable love that despite having been mulled over for what would've seemed like an eternity,
has never seen the light of reality before?
then again, everything does appear only better when it's all in your head.
when i can still pretend that you are who i expect you to be,
and i may be accepted for who i am truly,
excess baggage of unneeded insecurities and imperfections weighing me down and all.
is it better to be cleanly rejected or to be
torn down bit by bit,
night by night,
spent just staring at a blank screen and waiting,
hovering over imperishably,
pure naive hope fuelling the drive to continue delaying the inexorable?
foolishly believing that crossed fingers and
any lingering feelings that hadn't yet been sieved away by the
jaded culture we exist and drown in today
would perhaps, even if accidentally,
as if out of a fairytale that i starkly don't belong to,
send me a text back?
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 7:06 PM UTC
I am writing this letter to you because you don’t know what you did to me. You ruined me. In more ways than one. I am a mess and I blame this all on you. You are sick and wrong and cold. I hope one day you realize what you’ve done and it tears you apart. I could sit here and write out a list of things I wish upon you, but instead I just want to say I hope you get what you deserve.
There is something to be said about me wanting you to take my innocence, but in the end I said no. You kept going. Pushing my hands above my head, I was crying and you were satisfied. I can not stand my body because you touched it. You made me feel like a dog. You have no idea what I feel or what I’ve done to try and get back at myself for your wrongdoings. No. **** that. They weren’t wrongdoings, they were ****** up actions that made you seem in power. Stop blaming other people for things that you caused. You are sick. Completely and utterly, disgusting. I wish you were dead because maybe then I would finally have peace.
I have given my body to a handful of boys after you and what the **** am i supposed to do when all of them remind me of you? You make me ill. So ******* ill. I hope you have nightmares about how disgusting you are, because you are a pig. A vile, vile pig. You will never ever know what I am thinking and that tears me the **** apart. I drive by your house twice a week just to see if your car is outside so I can slash the tires.
As much as I wish you were dead, I wish I was dead. I wish this never would’ve happened to me. I wish I never would’ve gotten in the car with you. Wish I never said yes then no. You ruined my life. Until you understand what you’ve done, you will never know how it feels.
Rot in Hell.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
The mystic Sadhu
chants cryptic
mantras,
I hear
the Hammssss of his voice,
He is lost in his world
Like I'm with mine,
Above me, the bridge
clanked gleefully
announcing the arrival of her lover;
Shimmering in white, honking
it moves slowly like a big serpent,
Ending the tryst
with a flickering red light.
Several mounds, smoldering woods,
and one body stuck to
the trunk of the bridge
swirled in me the fear of
leaving this world early,
leaving all that I strived to
achieve, and leaving all of
it in the middle.
Buses pass on the next bridge
A hand came out
and aimed the stream with
something, probably a coin,
to compensate for wrongdoings,
Coin-collectors waiting like a
starving lion in a zoo
pounced on these throwings,
aiming the spot
with a magnet like
a trained ninja in nocturnal warfares,
After a few unsuccessful attempts
A boy yelled in joy
"Har Har Gange".
The Ganges was like this
from the beginning,
She was moderate in demands
offering so much
at the cost of a penny,
Throw a coin and
you are absolved from all your sins.
Oct 21, 2021
Oct 21, 2021 at 7:31 PM UTC
I want to scream my deepest fear
Uncover my deepest sin
Admit my wrongdoings
But the ice under me
Is very thin
The lion inside of me
Who scars the jungle
And fight an army of angry men
Can't fight the loneliness anymore
Or the sadness, deeper within
His lioness has gone
His lioness has left the den
Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 3:02 PM UTC
We say that times have changed
Yet the issues in the news
Remain the same
Three Muslims shot
Over a "parking dispute"
Yet the media news
Can't get to the root
Of the hateful crime
Committed by a brute
Too busy reviewing
Fifty Shades of Grey
While unjust crimes
Are carried out everyday
And why do we let ISIS
Receive so much fame?
And why is it that every
Muslim is to blame?
Associating a belief
With violence and terror
But it is among us
Where you'll find the true error
Using religious excuses
To **** off God's creations
Manufactured missiles
Sweeping entire nations
Thousands dead
With nothing left to gain
And those who survive
Are left with terminal pain
Seeing tears in the eyes of a mother
Her son buried deep
By the prejudice of another
How far will we go
Until we see the wrongdoings?
Cuz once a life is gone...
There is no undoing
Segregating humans
By religion, *** and race
My beliefs may be different
But I am no disgrace
We classify ourselves
With things like melanin
As if our destiny
Is determined by our skin
Ignorance causing our vision to be impaired
Can't accept the unusual
Cuz we're too scared
Too scared of the truth
So we hide behind lies
Too scared of being left out
So we wear a disguise
Morphing ourselves
Into what is accepted
Turning into clones
Fear of being rejected
But it's time to wake up
Time to accept
The difference in our land
Time to end
The suffrage that is at hand
Time to unite ourselves as one
Time to put down the weapons
And put away your gun
So join me now
To spread the love
And to silence the hate
Our world may not be perfect
But it's never too late.
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
(I)
People used to light candles to ward off
prophesies such as this. Stopping, each
motherly representative, for 75 seconds
or less,
to tip match-spark to wax-thread
and hope for the best.
What ceremonial significance now
do we seek for to slow the approach
of what we know is waiting?
Oncoming march of death-knolls and unhappiness
bound up in silence
where
once we laughed uncensored at and for
the characters who spun throughout
this town, that school, the city, our lives.
All being, understandably, becomes
efficiently replaced with obvious simplicity.
From effortless performances
of what made our lives important
back in childhood years when living
was stable and guaranteed,
now to this mongrel era of constant migration
beckoning....
The familiar is no longer our youth’s
careless summer holidays.
The Familiar is now a land where
people don’t bother with any ideas
of an ideal existence beyond
what lottery tickets may bring.
Those who inhabit here are
more alerted to the purpose of lighting
coals in winter to shelter the children
and to keep the windows from cracking.
In summer find these same awaiting with
patient ears to heed any advice
which keeps them from going completely insane.
(II)
Go now, away
,begin
your quest, foolish schoolboy.
An entire adolescence’s
comeuppance is due.
Time now to seek recompense
for the years you waited
for anything significant to happen.
Time to seek girls with inviting eyes
and lilting vowels to offer favors to.
Abled with a catalogue of charmed
intoxicants. All softened by
a plentitude of weekdays waking
at three in the afternoon.
(Does “afternoon” exist in layman’s terms? Does
he simply made do with morning, day and night?)
Then on your flight make haste
to ensure your visit merely brief.
Like only one dimension of
your day-persona be a hawk
that delivers messages
back to the ivory towers of
new central HQ, while remaining
all cloak and whisper.
Messages from where people live
but no longer speak,
as result of an assigned sense
of failure,or complimentary
wrongdoings sought, what sorrow achieves.
Shattered lives, Ending dreams.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 11:55 AM UTC
If you only knew
How much I've been keeping it in
Maybe you could cut me some slack
And leave me to my thoughts
If you only knew
The feelings in my wavering heart
That no matter how much I resist
They're eating me away slowly
If you only knew
How much I want to apologize
For keeping myself at bay and distant
Because I might never want to let go
If you only knew
Why I'm doing things to hurt you
Acting indifferent despite being close
Resisting feelings that I shouldn't feel
If you only knew
How much I'm falling in love
With everything and all about you
Wanting to break the status quo
If you ever find out
That I've been hiding these feelings
To keep this bond between us
Would you rather stay?
If only you would stay
I really hope you won't leave
But if you really do
This may be the last time
That I admit to you
That after all this time
And after all this pain
After all that ignorance
And all that silence
All the wrongdoings
And all the mistreatment
I love you
And pushing you away
Asking God to take away these feelings
Away from my fragile heart
To save what we have
So that I could keep you still
Even when we're far apart
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 2:03 PM UTC
This world we live in,
It's not supposed to
Be that way.
Hell is supposed to come after.
Instead, we suffer through
Hell every day of our lives.
Heartbreak, lost friends, abuse.
The list goes on and on.
The very thought that
There is worse to come
Scares me out of my mind.
Is there truly another hell
Or do the "bad" people
Simply get sent back to
Earth as their punishment,
Forced to suffer life again?
That seems to be enough
Punishment to discourage
Wrongdoings.
An eternity on earth
Forced to deal with evil
People and forces all over
Again.
Jul 26, 2012
Jul 26, 2012 at 6:01 AM UTC
sitting at the computer
ranting about global tragedy
but only peeking through the slightest slit
barely noticeable curtain rustle
when a physical knock finds the ominous
wooden door
the passive-aggressive activist waits –
the blog whirrs into life…
instilling motivation in others
for the terrors of GMO crops
and the vast wealth of lies
perpetrated by government officials
while quietly munching corn chips
bought on the food stamp card…
the passive-aggressive activist giggles –
buying filtered water
in plastic bottles
and organic produce
from chain grocery stores
taking out personal loans
to give to charity
the passive-aggressive activist
reads John Trudell
only because he just died –
watching CNN because FOX lies
only frequenting local coffee houses
while investing in French sunglasses
mispronouncing the names of countries
unable to be located on maps
while exclaiming the wrongdoings
of his government
after going to college on federal aid programs
promoting the second amendment
with no intention of ever owning a gun
the passive-aggressive activist
waits --
someone will one day send the letter
proclaiming the importance
of the insights
offered –
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
Such a tedious thing,
I sense our existence appears.
For my chest to breech to the sky,
A tightened blossom of whipping purity.
Then to sink towards such a vicarious engulfment of hell.
With each palpitating symposium,
My lungs waver.
To crust over,
and bless the,
upon gilded guffaws.
Perturbed of my ascension.
Or shall they sink,
Sallow under chagrined blasphemy,
My horridness inked upon
parchment seasoned skin.
Not but,
a child of bitter consideration.
I shall butter myself in ashes,
just to perceive myself a shadow.
For at dusk's beckon,
perturbed; to kiss the constellations.
Blemishes I conjured,
beneath a quavering lip,
a gentle crease of my nose.
I silence their whimpering of wrongdoings,
which I have failed to rupture.
To exhale,
in such a bubbling manner.
It gurgles at my lips.
Dribbles before me,
Whilst the sun blinks back a yawn.
Yet, upon a lunar serenade,
the talons which protrude from my veins,
writhes gruesome.
To my supposed
talents,
I see no anchor.
From them, to what lay before me.
To where I shall drift.
And good sir,
label my simplistic existence,
if you must.
Yet I shall soon die,
and so, you will too.
And by that flicker of seconds,
we should matter no more.
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
I sat there like a museum of moments,
a mosaic of emotions
as she dissected my personas
and did an autopsy of my past.
Memories climbed my spine
from the forgotten attics in my heart
with every question, she asked.
But my tongue was a drought
and my voice box was a rust box,
as the child in me
was bullied into quietude.
My edgy, messy and raw memories
molded my perception,
rewrote my interpretation
and deepened my experience.
There was underlying vengeance
as the layers of fabricated scabs were scrapped
to disclose the deeply entrenched, tender emotional scars.
As the present, struck a cord
my limbs would turn into cement
as the echo would bring me back
to the endless street of time
and I would be dragged
through open wounds within me.
The pain would seep in the nooks
and crannies of my soul.
At every jibe and remark
one more part of my flesh
would be chiseled away.
The sky would join in my sorrow
as the clouds gathered like sheep
summoned by a shepherd
and then we would begin to weep
our unresolved issues
onto tissues.
I revisited the bathrooms
that became sanctuary in high school
with its gossip soaked walls
and tear-stained countertops.
I dream of the people
that have lost their way in my memory;
a fabrication of nostalgia.
But the tranquility of waves,
can’t even erase the memories of their wrongdoings.
My past engraved itself
into my muscle memory
ingrained its teachings
and matured my sensibility.
The dim shadows that would creep
And the blues that I would pour
are becoming budding flowers in my chest.
Weaving from the same web
I was entangled in
building from the same sorrows
I was drowning in.
I began connecting,
understanding its stem
stitching my memories.
I write for my younger self
who felt silenced and erased by the world.
I shape all the tainted pieces of memories
into art and paint shades of my past
as each is soaked in a memory.
I craft subconscious relief,
breathing memories
into 6 alphabets
that were strung into paragraphs,
beginnings and end.
I reached out to corners
to bring out
sunrises and sunsets
and reignite dying embers
as I de-spell the damage that silently reverterbrates through generation.
I find home in my skin
and love myself, whole;
Shadows, crevice and all.
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 8:34 AM UTC
because all I see is IGNORANCE
minds that are satisfied
with being uniformed
where has the world gone
where is the CURIOSITY
where are the children
pledging to make the world a better place
because all I see
are PRETENTIOUS photographs
and empty thoughts
where are the questions
why is it acceptable to know nothing
society
i hate the thought of
a culture
a culture that is OBSCENE
a society that should be
ASHAMED of its wrongdoings
a society that should present
WORLD HUNGER as an actual problem
a society that should take ACTION
rather than sit by
as if people aren't dying as the minutes pass
and every grain in the hourglass
represents a STORY
stories that aren't told
all because society
is too IGNORANT
to care
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
Transcending all the right and wrongdoings
Will meet you at a place where nothing exits
Just You and Me, in rendezvous with us
In a language which surpasses all the worldly meanings
Meanings of our heart expressed in an alien language
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
Let me be kinder to myself.
Forgiving, like I am to others.
Let me see beauty in my reflection.
Smile, everything is better with one.
Let me take time for the small things.
Give me the colour I want.
Let me walk near the water,
And sit with a book in my hand.
Let me appreciate myself again.
Let me not value myself by others wrongdoings.
Let me respect myself,
Then I will not do the same to someone else.
Let me have cheesecake.
My self worth is not determined by my body.
Please self, stop fighting yourself.
And let myself finally free.
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
Poured a cup of fruit juice to see it was only 5%
Artificially coating life, never tasting the truth of what it meant.
My motivation space in my brain is vacant, and open for rent.
Sorry if you have to share it with a guy on the inside that's seemingly hell-bent.
Parents shed your clarity and wisdom, as oppose to letting your anger fill them.
Screams in dreams rip me out of my fantasy right at the seams, and maybe,
Maybe I'll never know what it means.
Some could view me right now as apathetic,
but those are the same that see my words as babble, because they just don't get it.
I think I've stopped caring about the criticism,
Because I stay within the confines of my individualism.
Your judgements put walls around me, restrictions I don't need.
I realize we're different, down to the music on which we feed.
No one wants to see how we're similar,
Always casting categories to the unfamiliar.
***** the false idea that you live up to
The only way out is being Through, with all the ********
No more wrongdoings to persist.
I could speak forever, and for those who've listened, I hope you get the jist.
I'm ****** to remain in a state with people of a similar fate because we let it.
You must have it made if you're one who doesn't get it.
Aug 11, 2012
Aug 11, 2012 at 8:50 PM UTC
1) God divides people, Sachin unites them
2) God does with people what he fancies, Sachin does with the bat what people love
3) God gives life, Sachin adds meaning to it
4) God answers prayers, Sachin comes as the answer to those prayers
5) God takes away what he gives, Sachin only gives, gives and gives
6) God doesn’t always give you what you want, Sachin gives you more than what you expect
7) God gives you death, Sachin teaches you how to live
8) God blesses you only if you’re good, Sachin’s benevolence is unconditional
9) God gives you troubles to teach you lessons, Sachin makes you forget your troubles
10) God puts you to test to reassert his supremacy, Sachin keeps passing every Test and still remains humble
11) God punishes people for their wrongdoings, Sachin takes it upon himself to rectify others’ mistakes
12) God's existence is an unsolved mystery, Sachin’s existence is beyond any doubt
13) God loves you only if you believe in him, Sachin’s genius and goodness compels you to love him
14) No one has seen God, No one will ever see another like Sachin!!!
Mar 17, 2011
Mar 17, 2011 at 9:26 PM UTC
Destroy me.
Take what you can from the middle.
Take that golden yellow moon-
that sherbert sunset in the center of how I exist,
**** it, take it!
And Stubbornly I'll be.
When all that is left is bones for the jackal to
satiate on
when all that is heard is bubbles popping
and the jaw creaking
from
the overuse of what was inside me-
When that dark and silken predator
lies lazy on it's back
with my contents fuming in its distention...
destroy me, do.
***** my remains
with huge heaving gusts of your gluttony.
Because you will.
Because I am too heavy to carry, I am too light to settle.
Oh, yes I'll be your posion,
and into every cell I will invade
marching with my army, marching with my anger
I will wiggle in your ear and chew through the pictures in your mind,
eating at the corners of everyone you covet most.
I'll call you in a singsong voice that does not end.
In every room you'll look to hear-
in every corner your try to hide from it.
I will flood your soul with my wrongdoings so you
carry mine as well as yours.
Yes, destroy me-
dust.
And you will perish from my digestion
and you will carry my heavy sins.
Oh, what is left? What is left?
Just the eternal weight of light
and you cannot eat that,
On light you can feast
but not thrive.
It will not still the noise
of the rotting wood
that sits solid and solitary
in the place
where someone stole
your exclusive rights
to feel
joy.
Sahn 3/26/2015
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC