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AJ Jun 11
How many times can one restart
Before they lose their beating heart?
Is there a line where second chances
Turn to ghosts in fractured glances?

Each version built, then swept away,
I ask, how much of me will stay?

My future spreads, a boundless sea,
Each wave a path calling to me
I crave them all, each shining shore

And my future stretches, vast and wide,
A thousand doors on every side
And oh, I ache to walk through them all
Yet once I choose one to open, the rest refuse my call
Mariah 3d
Maybe it was dumb...
     but I had a lot of fun


  getting nothing done

                                                           ­     :)
That's the life
Cadmus 3d
They asked me once,
“Why do you always take the hard path?”

I said,
“It’s not that I choose it
It’s just the only path I see.”

Not all of us are given options.

Some roads are rough
because that’s all there is.
Sometimes, life doesn’t offer a choice between easy and hard - it simply gives a road, and we walk it.
ASLRC 4d
Tell me… Are we truly free?
Is the shirt I am wearing
Something I like
Or did everyone
Influence me?

Does my vocabulary
belong to me?
Or am I trying to
speak the language
of the majority?

Did I choose what to study
or did my study choose me
based on my own ,
limited framed ability?

Does my life as an employee,
Involve my own self
and absolute freedom
or is it all based on money?

Are thoughts, rent-free
keeping me awake
even mine? Or a
creation of society?

Can I live in my own movie?
If dancing in the street
will let people judge me
Tell me… Are we truly free?
Bri Jun 9
When they talk
It’s an inside joke
“You wouldn’t understand”
They say while they giggle together
When you ask to hang out
There’s an excuse
“Sorry I’m busy”
They say while you watch them together
When they talk about a group chat
But you aren’t on it
“We must have forgotten”
They say while they keep texting each other
When they bring up memories
But you weren’t a part of them
“You must have been sick”
They say while they plan to hang out again without you
When they forget your birthday
But they’ve planned presents for each other’s
“I’ll bring your present tomorrow”
They say while they haven’t thought once about it
You are forgotten
You are left out
You are always the second choice-
death by a thousand dismissals
I was not your fate
though we chose each other once
you sleep next to him.
You were my own choice
but fate had another plan
you're his, not by will.
Ali Hassan May 29
Three roads once lay before my eyes,
Beneath the sweep of silent skies.
The first was wide—a golden lane,
Where countless walked to dodge all pain.

It rang with laughs, with joy and cheer,
A life designed to mask all fear.
With rules to follow, dreams pre-made,
Where comfort kept the truth delayed.

The second glowed, but few would tread,
Where thinkers dwelled and logic led.
They questioned deep, they reasoned well,
But stayed within a guarded shell.

They built their truths with thought and care,
Yet never leapt beyond the air.
For all they saw, they feared the cost
Of seeking more, or being lost.

The third was cloaked in breath of shade,
A road where light and meaning fade.
No stars above, no voice, no guide—
Just silence stretched on either side.

It seemed I stood with choice in hand,
But deep inside, I’d never stand.
The first road smiled with soft deceit—
A velvet lie beneath my feet.

It offered peace, a gentle chain,
With dreams that dulled the edge of pain.
But in that ease, my fire grew thin—
A quiet death beneath the skin.

The second shone with sharpened grace,
But held me bound in one still place.
A cage of mind, of bright control,
That fed the brain, but starved the soul.

They lit the dark, but feared to leap,
So clung to truths they chose to keep.
They stood so close to something true,
But feared what change would make them do.

The third—it bled, it bit, it burned,
And showed me truths I’d never learned.
Each breath was torn, each step left scar—
A trail that broke but led me far.

No cheers ahead, no lights behind,
Just hollow winds and thoughts unkind.
Yet in the silence, sharp and clear,
I felt a voice the brave don’t hear.

It warned, “This road will lead to none.
It breaks the soul, it leaves you done.”
But pain revealed what fear had masked—
And so I walked, no questions asked.

No end in sight, no promised land,
Just storms that tore through where I stand.
Yet through the wreckage, fierce and true,
The shattered path was pulling through.

So let me fade, without a sound—
No song, no stone, no hallowed ground.
Though I vanish, lost and gone,
I walked the path that led me on.
Traveler May 24
My fears are bold and brave
To the system, I’m no slave
To the meek, I’m but a freak
I refuse to let them
Make me sickly or weak

My device knows when to quit
I leave it at home unlike you kids
Unlike the masses trying to fit in
I will break long before I bend.

I am a loser a winner a slob
I don’t have a blue-collar job
I’m not trying to get rich
Alone in nature is where I fit!
Traveler Tim
Lizzie Bevis May 14
Your mind is a waiting garden,
and life will give us seeds,
you can sow beautiful flowers
or you can nurture stubborn weeds.

The choice is yours,
to make in a thoughtful wake,
to tend to the delicate blossoms
or let the brambles overtake.

Water the garden with pride,
with thoughts pure and bright,
tear down any climbing doubts
and give way to the sunlight.

For what you will harvest
depends on what you sow,
your garden will flourish
and wisdom will grow.

So nurture each lesson,
and watch the petals unfurl,
in your garden of growth,
with the beauty of your soul.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Inspired by a wonderful mindfulness quote,
I was unfortunately unable to find the original author to give credit, but here it is in its inspiring glory:

Your mind is a garden.
Your thoughts are the seeds.
You can grow flowers
or you can grow weeds.
Steve Page May 14
She'd said
she'd buy the flowers herself.
She knew what to get.
She'd found a reliable florist.
And she had the time
to select the perfect arrangement.

That's what the Funeral Director
told us at the Co-op.

And on the day, we all agreed -
the flowers were lovely.
And no one was left
in any doubt -
she'd have loved them.
Credit to Virginia Woolfs novel, Mrs Dalloway.
I took the first line, tweaked and re-purposed it.
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