Her dark melanin skin like dawn;
Full of potential and hope;
Only if she dares to dream;
The end of a beginning;
Taste of dust;
Your power lies in the wild;
Endowed; fruits gradually acquired;
A green lustre;
Lift your head high;
Shine!
Message In A Bottle The ground takes another soul We bid farewell, scars engraved in our hearts I wish I could say all will well but I will be lying For now Smile the pain away When the clouds of doubt roar In the darkness of the night Know The sun rays will touch your cheeks Once again Drawing a shape to hold your heart It's warmth Filling your broken soul. The dancing rays A laughter A subtle smile Evidence from Time travelling Expeditions That one day, It's a promise It will hurt a little less Just smile the pain away.
📸the.photographer.official Have you ever met people who are just not truthful? From the smallest things, like what’s your plan really? Even the simplest question like, what do you do for fun? I don’t know whether it’s the need to impress or insecurity that my answer won’t measure up to the next person’s expectations? At first, it gave me chills, not the warm fuzzy goosebumps but the cringe that literally gives one an upset stomach. I was filled with so many questions, still is, and the reason why I’m writing about it. My mind screams, my face frowns and my whole being escapes me, I can’t handle hearing people deprive themselves of their true self. What for? Is it really worth it? Many things are avoidable. Literally everything, everyone has a privilege of choice. This is what it’s like every time everyone chose to lie and not be straight up. This is what it’s like living with lies on your tongue, it’s a choice. It all comes down to choice or it's the demons one is battling with ...
📷 Apaha Spi Broken dreams, broken souls We are all a mess, a fallen generation We bleed, but nobody cares Somehow it is our fault We cry, nobody listens All they care about is more coin in their pockets We’re only but pawns In a game, we cannot fathom Our pain in their eyes is unnecessary drama, Our sorrow gives them an adrenaline rush, Our struggle is their entertainment They thrive from our sweat, blood and tears As it pours, so does coin drop in their pockets Every dime we earn they find ways to chuff it To them it is change, to us, it is means of survival Greedy grim reapers are what they are Always scheming of ways to suck the last coin out of us The pain inflicted by the people we traded for our hope and future It worsens by the day, but we continue to sing songs of hope It is not by choice, it is a survival instinct The thought of better days is what is keeping us sane, Nowhere to turn, refuge is the new slave To stay and ...
This is a beautiful poem! Thank you for sharing (:
ReplyDeleteNikki O.
Thank you Nikki😊🙌
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