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 Sep 2014 Dee
Apps
Don't turn away.
 Sep 2014 Dee
Apps
You tell me I'm too serious.
I only look at the dark alleys of this broken city;
and not the light coming through,
But you only look away.
The elderly and abandoned, who've accepted
that they will leave this world alone and unloved
The people who would sell their soul for something to eat,
Do you see them?  
The world is hopeless, and can't be changed
That's what everyone says.
We're surrounded by cynics, who comfort in believing
that humanity has tread far, far
beyond redemption.
But I haven't yet lost the romanticism that accompanies youth
I still believe I can change the world.
And I'd like to dance with you all night,
throw my hands up without a care on my mind
But when the sun rises
and I make my way home,
I can't open my eyes and pretend not to see
the vagabond children, and homeless mothers
The newborn puppies with nothing to eat,
covered with dust in the afternoon sun.
Who am I, to be ignorant of the wars raging around us,
of the hatred unleashed on innocent people
in the name of God?
And I wonder, how we can live with ourselves
watching disasters pass us by. Watching others go meekly through their silent existences, for whom life isn't a beautiful gift
I want to shout, scream, pound my fists, to do something.
So if you can hear me
and your strobe lights and flashy cars have not yet
left you blinded, this time,
don't turn away.
 Sep 2014 Dee
Purvi Gadia
exams
 Sep 2014 Dee
Purvi Gadia
Exams; they ring a bell in your head
Wakes you up from your dream
Lazy time to sleep now ends
My exams about to start
©2014 Purvi Gadia
 Sep 2014 Dee
SøułSurvivør
Kookaburra's,
though silly,
still course
the sky

chickens
have wings
but will never

FLY


SoulSurvivor
The Kookaburra is
also known as "The Laughing *******"
 Sep 2014 Dee
ryn
Toting the mysterious bundle and sporting a sore back
I drag my feet up the last few steps, expended of vigour
I almost couldn't resist prematurely looking through the sack
Remembering the words from the wise old seer

Grimacing I walk a slow gait to get to the table
Set the bundle down and relieve my weight onto a chair
Parched throat but wait longer I am unable
Curiosity takes charge and into the gift I will tear

Blood is pumping along with an increasing heart rate
Fingers scrambling clumsily over the strings that bind
Nails digging frantically into this package bearing my fate
Gnawing thoughts of uncertainty flooding my mind

At last my fingers win the battle that lasted
The final string has fallen... Obstinate knots all undone
I pick the cloth by the edges to have it unfolded
The contents inside reach out like rays of the sun

Corners of the cloth open up like a fully bloomed blossom
Exposing the treasure that lay solemn and quiet inside
Common objects we'd normally perceive as random
Petty things now important as they attempt to guide

I pick up the first and notice an engraving on it's stem
Between my fingers - an unassuming feathered quill
Barely legible, such little space the words do cram
"Here is your sword... Draw blood and let spill"

More riddles, I sought to examine the next
A flat bottomed vial filled with jet black ink
On it is a label with scrawling of time worn text
"Here is your blood; let flow what you think"

Lastly, lay bound up sheets of yellow stained parchment
They reek of age-old herbs; intoxicating slightly
At the top of the first, a note scribbled not so recent
"Within these pages, you must bleed to find Sanctuary"

Staring down at the objects laid in front of me
In hopes of discovering something I should miss
Then finally it struck me, so plain to see
I'm using the instruments now, writing to find release...
See "Dear Mystic"
See "Dear Seeker"
See "Sanctuary"
 Sep 2014 Dee
Rupal
Being
 Sep 2014 Dee
Rupal
I have created
so many relationships
that
sometimes
I find...
No me
For myself...
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