# life # pondering # dreams

Endearing Ideals

Some seek a rigid path

Joy stems from no such set rules

Only limit the status quo




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Touching the Dream

Yes, the wingless-dream,

Has got wings at last,

And in joy sings of the future respecting the past,

Simultaneously spreading the beam.


Has been nourished for long,

And is going to feel freedom,

By making the notions roam,

From one gem to the other before long.


Proud am I to be a dreamer,

Since the dream has made me glow like a star.

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You Broke Me

Soul Poetry


My heart didn't use to be

so wary,

So numb

So shattered...and so lonely.


It didn't happen



More like years

of careless



Too many nights of neglect.


It took time to shatter

so many hopes,

so many dreams.

To un-fall

what I once fell into.


See, all those words,

just used like weapons?

Aiming to hurt

to wound

and to crush?


All those looks given,

as though such disdain

was from where they came?


Its never changed

for each day brings

more of the same.


Except now?

Now I have no more reason

to keep myself

aligned, so a target.

Nothing now,

to hold the ties

that no longer bind...


But as usual,

I remain incarcerated.

For I have nowhere

and nothing to call my own-

as so often,

I'm reminded.

But one day...

And no,

this isn't bitterness,

it isn't anger.

Nor revenge.


 Its simply that...


You broke me.


Its survival.


You broke me.


Its awakening.


You broke me.


It's mine.


And no one

can pick up 

my pieces

and attempt

the repairing.

No one,

but me.

I'll fix me-

since you...

You broke me.





Author's Notes/Comments: 

You Broke Me

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] [

   I want to do something great,

 For the sake of humanity,

 Regardless of the earthly eternity,

 That the ashes might create.


 Each time,

 The fulfilling of a dream,

 Revitalizes my soul’s realm,

 And brings in life a poetic rhyme.


I don’t care about the dark forces and their biggest wall,

 Since they are meant to break down, meant to fall. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The symbolic title, ]        [ ,  actually gives the impression of getting rid of every difficulty and letting the dreams fly high in ecstasy. In the 4th line, the word 'ashes' indicates 'notable works'.

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just a dream?

Sometimes, I wonder, is this world real?

Will I wake tommorrow, just a day old?

Will I wake and not be a day over 80?

How do we know if we are dreaming

or if this is truley happening?

Did that just happen?

The pain of this world, 

a creation of my mind?

Some could justify, 

that no one is sick enough to dream that up.

But what if thats just my concusness

trying to convince me this is real.

What if everyone, is just a figure of my imagiontion?

What if the world dosn't exsist?

Am I real?

Do I really live?

Is this my paradise?

Or the hell I've been comdemned to?

Why can't I know

if I'm dreaming?

How can I know if I'm real?

What if... I'm alone.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

 me pondering existence...

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