What I Realized





Bohemian poets view the world

in colors uncommonly used


scripting pastimes with symbols and  phrases,

bounded and shared with the masses,


canvassed as let-downs, thoughts, memories, inspirational memos.

To convey they are not alone

(neither are you).

Free thinkers and believers

optimists and under-achievers.

 Yes, beige paint can smooth out the words,

but by dawn a new story is inevitably born.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

You Could Have Called the Angels

You could have stopped it. I would have nothing bad to say. I wouldn't blame you. I sinned, not you. you're perfect. While the world was weighing you down with callous glances, and cold-heartedly shouted,"crucify him! CRUCIFY HIM!" You lay nailed, remained calm,saddened by what the world has become God's creations against one another we're tearing eachother apart like the plague. yet you hold no grudges We know how to live. We know how to love one another, what to say, not to say, not to kill, or lie, or cheat, or steal. Yet we live wrong. You could have called the angels. They could have filled the sky and blocked out the sun and mirrored the darkness we have allowed into our hearts. You could have shown you were the son of God. They would have changed their ways. For the time being. You could have called the angels and aborted your philantropic desire to be the ultimate sacrifice. but you didn't. I look around Jesus, a
Read more

Feelings UNmutual.

I'm not good at feeling If it's needed to be shared. I can't bring someone close, without being scared. I can't quite shape it. It started since birth. It's like my heart's with God's people, but is fresh-out of self-worth. My heart belongs to the world,  because I believe in their fate, but I set up self-standards and tend to self-hate. Not an "image" self-hatred or where I am from, but a portrait self-image of who I've become. and it's easy to love and it's easy to say that you shouldn't judge this or act out in this way and it's easy to guide and not so easy to follow and it's not easy to fill your soul when it's hallow. I don't like sharing how I feel. Or who I've become, it's an attention unwanted, that makes me feel dumb. and the dumbness is numb. and the numb is the sum of the amount of good feeling that will never come.
Read more

Making My Peace

I've decided I love you ,but will never be like you. I couldn't. Don't have that in me (and wouldn't want to either). I see the children look up to you. They trust you so much. Believe you could move mountains, and fly if you wanted to. I see the children when you let them down. Like their hopes they saw in you were destroyed. Like you could have saved them, and you chose not to. I get furious all over again. I remember that hurt. Hurt as a child is worse than hurt when you're grown, because it's so new. I remember seeing kids during recess. Laughing with their friends and living in a world that I already knew didn't exist. They probably thought they could fly. Probably believed they could move mountains. They believed anything they were told. I decided I will never be like you. When I say I'll be there, there I will be. When I promise to do something, it's already done. I couldn't stand to look at my child's
Read more