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Mercury Chap Feb 2015
The mild ticking of clock,
Counting your every second
It's calm hands stop for a while
But there is one which doesn't.

It runs the race
Of our life
It doesn't get exhausted,
It would tick even afterlife.

The sound which runs our feet
And makes beads of sweat roll down
Our tensed skin
The sound which would never stop
And if it does,
Then our time will too.

The sound is calm
But hard to bear
When the time passes by
And you're just standing here,
Thinking about something
But not about time.
You miss all the hours
And stay quite like a mime,
Not budging at all.

But the time won't stop,
It keeps on ticking,
It slowly chops
Away the hours of your living.

It's up to you
To react in time
Or you would too
Drown yourself
Like everyone who ignored time.
Mercury Chap Feb 2015
I can't write poetry
All the tension for my exam
Is ensconced in my brain
I can't think much
I have a mind to tame
Or else I'll forget
What I learnt
And if I write poetry
All the equations
Settled in my mind
Would get burnt.

I can't write poetry
Because I am too tired to think,
About a beautiful topic,
And decorate it with my ink
On a white sheet of paper,
Devoid of emotions,
Demanding for it to be filled
With words full of actions.

I can't write poetry
Because I think
I am not good enough
But when I begin to write
I can't stop writing about random stuff
And make connections
With the previous line
To make a poem
That at least I would love
To read after a long time
And dive in the ocean of my old thoughts.

I can't write poetry
Because I don't know enough words
To describe what I am thinking
I know the simple language
But I can't stop my mind from sinking
Deep into my mind's dictionary
Of limited words.

I can't write poetry
Because I think
I am not thinking right now
I am just writing random words
To make them, somehow,
Rhyme with eachother.

I am writing this
Because I can't stop writing poetry
Not matter how bad it is,
Like a bird I feel free
When I express my emotions
With poetry.
I was feeling to write at least something. I can't stop myself from writing poetry no matter how bad it is.
(Note: if you don't like my poetry, I can't do anything, but I love it XD )
  Feb 2015 Mercury Chap
epictails
Be careful little lady for the world is ill
It beguiles you deeply to its will
And then you wake up everyday with no thrill

Love they judge as taboo
The hopeful who cares they misconstrue
As an idiot with a loose *****

The truth is but a faraway fancy
With people living for themselves only
Lies here and there, truth being heard deafly

Peace is a dying cliche
Violence, aggression all they pray
The dignity of many turning into decay

So you see my dear,sweet innocence
Open your eyes but embrace this reality with grievance
One that has lost its meaning and balance
But with you, a believer, a kind soul, might still give it a chance
Do take action with love and not vengeance
For you can still save a world stripped of conscience
This is the (sort of) sequel to my poem A Letter to Mother. This would be like the mother's reply to her child's questions. I urge everyone who gets to read this to let your little siblings or children  know how they can take action in issues that have shaken and continue shaking our morale as a society.
  Feb 2015 Mercury Chap
epictails
The only way to break the barriers
They made you believe is your realm
Is to be the person
They think you will never be
  Feb 2015 Mercury Chap
a
feverish, fervent
frantically observant
forever more
a lot of things at once, and the sixth letter of the alphabet
Here is a young boy,
His heart has been crushed,
His innocence has already been stolen,
By the gun in his hands.

Here is a teenager,
Death a normality,
Trusting only in hate,
For those he once loved.

Here is a young man,
Believing in revenge,
For a crime he never saw,
Against someone he never knew.

Here is a father,
"Protecting" his daughter,
Showing her the path he chose,
Putting her finger on the trigger.

Here is an old man,
Regretting his life,
Hating himself for all he did,
But all too late.

Now here is a young girl,
Who lives far away,
Who doesn't understand,
But knows she is hated.

People avoid her,
Afraid? Or unsure?
The garment on her head,
Fills her with shame.

This girl never touched a gun.

The boy did not know what he was doing.

His daughter doesn't want to ****.

But it is too late now,
Society has grasped a concept,
And it's claws dig deep,
It won't let go.
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