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Persons who, not agreeing with you,
Will tell you, your perspective is wrong.
That lived experience,
Has clouded your lense of reality.
But they offer no real difference
Nothing so substantive
As to say,
Mine is fixed
And based in a place
Of true, unbiased rationality.
Rakib Jul 2023
Beneath the kaleidoscope of city lights,
Drunk on the potion of our fleeting nights,
As we dance with shadows, shifting in the gloam,
Youth whispers secrets, in this world we roam.

And with each pulsing beat of our hearts,
We paint the canvas of life with our arts.
Our laughter's echo, a symphony of time,
In the theater of existence, our prime.

Time, oh time, your river runs so deep,
In every memory we yearn to keep,
Yet as the current carries us away,
The colors of our youth begin to fray.

Through silent forests, where wisdom hides,
Where Emerson's thought and Frost's beauty abides,
We journey seeking truth in nature's lore,
Learning to embrace what life has in store.

The ticking hands of time, the aging moon,
All singing the inevitable tune,
Yet in each wrinkle, in every silver line,
Lie tales of a life, beautifully entwined.

Time, oh time, in your rhythm we dance,
Caught in the ebb and flow of our trance,
And as we waltz to your eternal song,
We understand, to the universe, we belong.

The mirror reflects our changing face,
Youth's fleeting image, a vanishing trace,
Yet, within our hearts, in the depths unseen,
Burns the eternal flame, forever seventeen.

As we walk the path where the two roads diverge,
We find ourselves standing on the age's verge,
With the wisdom of the years in our sight,
We embrace the coming of the adult's night.

Time, oh time, in your hands we unfold,
Weaving the tapestry of stories told,
Though the days of youth in the past might lie,
In the realm of memory, they never die.

So, with every sunset, and every breaking dawn,
We celebrate the life that has been and will be born,
And though the pages of time continue to turn,
It's the fire of youth, within us, that continues to burn.
Nigdaw May 2023
if you want to find me
I am slightly left of centre
at the back, a different colour
more drab, grey even
quite unnoticeable
an extra in a street scene
there to make the numbers up
a voice in a choir drowned out
by those around me
probably mouthing the words
half remembered
a shadow on a sunlit street
where everyone is having
a good time, or on the beach
sitting staring out to sea
no small talk, not even hello

my mind is shooting
gathering experience
like tracer fire
target secured
Mark Wanless Apr 2023
we experience
and are result awakened
moment here and now
My arm is called the epic list
Displaying the anthems of my life
One by one

I've lived these moments
Heard the music loud and clear
These melodies will forever live
In the basement of my brain

Falling into the depth of my mind
I dig it up with my hand
Revealing the traffic

I'm addicted to the melancholy
No matter where I travel
We all carry a bag

I've lived these moments
Heard the music loud and clear
These melodies will forever live
In the basement of my brain

-AJT
old willow Feb 2023
To live is to experience tribulation.
How can there be rainbow without rain?
To live is to experience mortal dusts.
How can there be rain without water?
To live is to experience life's rust.
How can there be rust without metal?
To live is to achieve happiness.
How can there be happiness without sad things?
louella Feb 2023
you know,
they say
when one door closes,
another one opens.
well, when
my door closed,
someone’s hands
came to my neck.
her eyes were so gentle,
gentle in a way that
is innocence masked.
she strangled the visible life
out of me.
she pinned me to the floor.
and when i tried slipping the story
out
into the world,
they laughed in my face.
so i thought this wasn’t normal behavior.
i was supposed to appreciate something unwanted,
some invasive beast.
i was supposed to accept my fate,
leave my life in the hands of a black swan.

you see, she crawled into my soul,
stuffed her face into my ribcage.
she lapped up every inch of me that was
left
standing
in the sun.
her eyes were bullets
yet it was always the same response of
“you’re a target, you should love the sound of gunfire.”
no, i am a gaping wound,
bleeding guilt,
bleeding out the remains of my foolish heart.
i bleed alone.
i am seeping blood.

she slammed the door so fast
and i could not look back;
there was not a new door to unlock.
i stood there helpless, stunned, shocked.
the fire violently grew
but somehow they didn’t see.
somehow they didn’t try to help,
they didn’t come to rescue me
from these depths.
they came to gawk and make jokes
at the expense of my life.
i couldn’t cry
because
the weakness would seep from my pores if i did,
it would show on my trembling lips,
it would put an end to my pride.
yet
what is pride
but a selfish desperate emotive response?
i am weak.
she pushed through my dry wall
and she
taught me how to unlearn careful choices.
she stole the human from me,
i was left as a naked, erratic wild animal.
yet she was always the one with bright white fangs
that pierced through my satin skin
and an apology was never exchanged.
i never wanted to shut the door
to my safety,
i never wanted to wind up in a creepy alley
beyond where i recognized the area.

and,
what did you call me
but a weak
and pathetic little creature
who can’t defend his honor?
why have you stripped me of my dignity?
i reel below your throne
coughing up childhood innocence and
disgust.
and they didn’t believe me
even when i clawed at my walls
begging to be saved,
they turned away.
they shook their heads.
they made me a liar.
they made me think i did the wrong thing
by being there
by not using my fists for power.
in my ravaging pits of darkness,
she blamed me.

you know,
they say
when one door closes,
another one opens.
but where is the doorknob
to my destination of
believing?
where do i turn now that you pillaged
the trust from my bones
using blunt force?
after you left me with my heart in my ****** hands
and the self that i don’t recognize in the mirror.

who did you leave me as?
this is dedicated to all the male victims of ****** assault.  to those who have endured the comments saying that they are weak or not warranted or lucky. or those that will never take you as serious. ****** assault does not have a gender. men are to be taken just as serious as women. my prayers to you always. (also not my experience, just storytelling).

2/23/23
Amina Nov 2022
I feel life
Should I stop
using my Heart?
my Brain tries
to work
I chose
my sense.
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