66. If you’re not understood, still be good.

I’m walking on a path of diversity,
where I like things differently.
And most of the time, it’s confusing,
so some say things a bit hurting.

But it’s fine, and it always be,
since the impact of the habits, others can’t see.
Though there are times when it hits,
when the words sting and it’s pain I meet.

The words also eat me alive,
and nothingness is where I thrive.
Yet physically, everything’s good.
Even if with the aches I happily stood.

There are times where I’m asked to act differently,
and I get anxious because this is me, actually?
Then suddenly I realized they wanted me to act mature,
and yet I am? Youthfulness has no cure.

Maybe you see me as playful,
but in reality I am no fool.
The amount of childlike things I have is huge,
But I strive for wisdom and perseverance in a deluge.

So even if I am different, it’s okay.
With these interests I have, I’ll stay.
Age isn’t a hindrance to explore,
I’m looking forward to what this life stores.

It begins today.

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65. It’s okay. You’re okay.

 

You often think about the next day,
and with your thoughts you hope and pray.
As you stay in bed for a few hours more,
even if you’re awake you don’t want to go out the door.

Your worries are eating you alive,
but still you like it and in overthinking you thrive.
And with an unwilling heart,
you prepare for your day to start.

You travel to your appointments,
feeling like you’re such a disappointment.
But the world doesn’t allow you to brood,
you try to look okay and smile to lighten the mood.

You crave for authenticity,
and a life blasting simplicity.
Oftentimes you ask your love ones their worries,
but since you look unfazed no one’s hearing your pleas.

But it will be fine you see,
there will come a time you’ll be free.
It’s okay. You’re okay.
There’s always another day, I say.

 

151018 Spirited Away

64. The flowers are blooming.

As you walk on your own path,
you think it will be just that.
But it isn’t ‘just that’,
here, you need to give your best shot.

It’s in the middle of blooming fields,
your road which doesn’t have a shield.
It will get rough,
and the journey will be tough.

But you got this,
so trudge on your own pace, please.
Don’t mind the flowers blooming,
you are the best flower on this road your taking.

 

63. The eagle cries as it hovers on a vast land.

You’re drowning,
dark thoughts looming.
Yet what others view,
is you on a luxurious canoe.

This is what the world has as its routine.
We all look great but our souls are in line with the guillotine.
Because this world demands as to great,
and being weak, lost, and dense are what we hate.

You daydream and wish to escape,
to personal goals you are taped.
Exhausted with the same freaking routine every day,
telling yourself, “Damn, this is not okay.”

Because the world escalated the goals on a pedestal,
which surrounds to anything physical, corporal.
Upgrades and travels, these are what we aim for,
destructing the lucidness of our core.

You realize that when you aim like this there will be no end.
To materialism you will really bend.
You gradually wean yourself from the weight of physical obscurity,
and strive to influence and inspire humanity.

This is where we become the eagles which cry,
and for the real identity of freedom we try.
The beginning of charity ends truthfully today,
and to peace and love as our goals, we stay.

*inspired by events of reality

 

62. The truth oozes as the shell cracks.

It isn’t wrong to be strong.
In trials, we try to hold on for so long.
We’re taught to display what is good and happy,
women can’t always lead and men can’t be sappy.

The world is revolving in new media,
and the number likes and loves are the new quota.
I fell into this endless swirl of superficiality,
that I forgot to focus on the needs of humanity.

There are screams of injustice and oppression,
then there’s no aid for people falling to depression.
We dedicate ourselves in battling opinions,
and ignored the call for a peaceful union.

The past months were hectic,
personally, deadlines were tragic.
Along my way, I lost the true light.
The goal for humanity lost in sight.

I was wondering what I wanted to buy,
when suddenly I realized I heard a cry.
It is collective cry of despair,
for I have been, to this world, become unfair.

The shell cracks and the ugliness appear,
the ‘fake-ness’ of this world becoming clear.
We must stand up and fight the shallow reception,
and strive to become peaceful nations.

*inspired by Easter (a blessed one, y’all)
*a gudetama for a title-pun