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Dream A Wish

A wealth of knowledge

A vault of treasures

A home of pearls

I yearn to own

A beautiful dream…

A sea of work

A wealth of effort

It takes to achieve..

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Death’s Door

Overwhelmed by guilt

My sadness makes me breathless

Fleeting moments of peace

Brief moments of reprieve

I watched myself slowly become a dark soul

A being black in the heart, so much I was scared of myself

Years ago that feel like yesterday

Acceptance of who I am

An evil, yet pure soul

A chance to be less, yet more

A result of a new self-knowledge

Spurred on by a wrenching desire to be deserving

Of all that I have, all the love and care

-Love I have never believed in, and do not yet believe-

And my life, even if I want to take it, even if I do not want it

I’m better, I deserve it

But my greek husband thinks otherwise

I may not live to see the dawn

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Cold Heart

A cold heart, unmelted in a hearth

Untouched by the evil brewing within

A greek Narcissus come to life

Wreaking havoc on the cosmos

Cossetted by the Grim Reaper

A light to his darkness

Now of an essence

Besmirched and betrayed

By a trusted one, a beguiling face

Beautiful au naturel, with an aura of death

But a skin of gold

Aurora is her name

Vengeance taken, an uxoricide he becomes

For one soul they shared

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Hour Of Pain (dark depths)

Hurt, lonely, and depressed

Angry, troubled, and throbbing with pain

Misunderstood by all

Innocence taken against my will

Pride, honour, self-worth, dignity, ripped away

Washed down the drain

In one flawless, smooth stab to the heart

Drowning in guilt, disgusted by the filth

Swamped in feelings of worthlessness and despair

Abandoned in the moment of my greatest need

A harmless gesture, as it becomes my greatest bane, now self-evident

No relief in sight

My future now blurred

A miracle born of a monster’s blood

My blood, my saving grace

All my soul searching, my revival has brought

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My favourite item in the whole world is my wristwatch

Given to me by my uncle, stolen by my bestfriend

I keep it beside me, when I sleep, when I read, eat, sing, dance

I discovered it missing at night, four nights ago

I had roused myself a little so I could slip it under my pillow, but, alas, it was gone!

I do not exaggerate, I caused something close to mayhem that night

Everyone got up at once, woken by my cry

They may have thought there was a burglar

And very well, for there was a burgled item, my personal wristwatcb

I feel lonely without it

I don’t know how my friend got it, but, I glimpsed a wristwatch on his wrist before he hid his hand in his pocket

One that looked like mine

My grandfather says it is well, that I was getting too attached

That is bullshit

He says a friend of his told him my behaviour toward the wristwatch, what he suspected, was Selective dementia

I wonder what he means

I do not think I am crazy, no matter what anyone thinks

Maybe one day, I’ll sue my friend and make him pay

And maybe someday, I’ll realise, when I look back, that, I was obsessed with that watch

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The Examination Candidate

I get back from that hall. As I move through the building, I wonder: what hast fate in store for me?

The past few months had seen me slugging, in expectation of that day.

Then comes the day. I have not done my best, and much as I do not care to admit it, it is true.

But even if I had, then, wouldst I be content?

Nay, I answer, in the way of the Old English. For long have I lost confidence in myself.

And, alas, the day! It is just normal. And so should it be.

For no earth-shattering event is due to take place.

And then I remember: my life is what I wouldst make of it.

I remember. And then I think: so then, would not I believe not in fate?

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‘The Road Of Life’: I’d Say My Poems Are A Bit Amusing

The road of life is fraught with obstacles, sometimes even roadblocks
Ought it not to be? Few could manage gridlocks but not roadblocks
Ought it be called a survival of the fittest?
To be sure, it calls for fitness. But, fitness of what sort?
Ought it be fitness of the mind or say, physical strength?
But, say, if fitness of the mind, why do not the greatest minds have roadblock-free roads?
But, then, life is such. Normal are those.
Do you say physical strength? Why, then, has it been said: “the mighty do not have the race and neither do the swift”?

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‘Chocolate’: My first Try At Poetry

Chocolate travelled wide
Got from cocoa trees wild
On which the Aztecs thrived
Emperor Montezuma so love its taste
That he emptied 50 cups for just each day
The royal ladies of the Spanish court
Discreetly sipped their beverage spiced
Beer brewers would rather it was banned
But chocolate could not be stopped
From making itself loved
So widespread was its taste
So unique, its flavour
Different from what was ever known
It gets even better
From bitter cocoa beans
To unique choco drinks
And maybe even sweets



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