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Best Basic Needs Poems | Poetry

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The Best Basic Needs Poems

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Five Letter Words

Noble Souls Noble souls arise, build steps, forge roads, carry tough loads, scale peaks, quell fears, dream stars which blaze, clear those black skies. These souls would tears erase. Noble souls offer cheer, avoid wrath crush their pride, prove their worth, value earth, speak sober words, shape lives, plant hope’s seeds, serve other folks’ basic needs. Noble souls rally, never crawl, never stall. Their adept hands nurse other souls’ awful aches. Sweet roses adorn their loved angel faces. Noble souls exist. A poem using only 5-letter words Dec. 21, 2017 for Rhoda Tripp's 'Fem Bogstaver (Danish)' Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2017

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A Few Years Back

Is that your son by his mother's side?
When he calls you daddy, do you beam with pride?
Are you building memories of a lifetime, Jack?
You're a lot like me----------a few years back.

Is that your little girl?  Would you stop for a while?
Been quite some time since I saw a child smile
A few basic needs are all I lack
You're a lot like me----------a few years back.

Please talk to me. Don't pass me by.
Sometimes when I'm alone I cry
Got what's left of my life in an old sack
You're a lot like me----------a few years back.

How's your job? Are you seeing new faces?
Climbing the ladder and going places.
Approaching the top. You're right on track
You're a lot like me----------a few years back.

I bet your home is nice, on a manicured lot
Now a cardboard box is all I got
I had it all then I watched it crack
You're a lot like me----------a few years back.

My body hurts,  and my hands, they shake
Life is about the choices we make
Freight train's coming, guess I ought to pack.
You're a lot like me---------a few years back.

                                      Vince Suzadail Jr.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2006

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Love Comes

Infants bond from basic needs to mother’s scent,
understanding nothing of the love that’s spent.
Toddlers cry whenever they don’t get their ways,
children pout against the pane on rainy days.

Teens within a circle that fulfills their needs,
grow to see the roses hid behind the weeds.
Those who give because they love is always learnt,
gifts of time, a simple rhyme or candles burnt.

Copyright © Mark Ackerson | Year Posted 2015

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Sensless ( part two )

In all these triumphs and human attainments 
To overcome these realities of material boundaries and confinements 
Do we simply fill our lives with possessions and possessive capitalist greed
Is it just ego and the fear of death that governs our sense of individuality

Have not all of us been children, been fathers or mothers, siblings and friends
Do we not count the emotion of another as being equal to our own
Are we not each and everyone, all of us in this together
Or does this blood run a different colour

Or do we waste our potential for mankind’s united evolvement
To reach for the inspiring pinnacle of our spiritual development
Mutually joined in a harmony of trust to the betterment of our destiny

When do we celebrate the diversity of our sense to make sense of the senseless

And so we have lingered through the century’s victim to our own disease
In progress and with education our intelligence still limited in tribal ignorance
The mathematic, scientific and technological revolution providing no solution

Simply confounded by our own simplicity and basic needs
For food and warmth, for shelter and love, for the relief of boredom
Cavemen of the mundane and slaves to acquisition and our own entertainment
As we merely continue to continue

Such is as we are, the problem vis-à-vis the individual and the global
Knowing all to well what we could achieve if we could but realise our dreams
Doomed to a life which creates nothing but want
And a daily reminder of all the things that we can’t

While the cradle of the Earth sickens with our planetary abuse
Have we truly lost ourselves in the all about the money all the way of things
Have we signed our fate over to our own arrogance and blind stupidity

When then do we celebrate our diversity of sense to make sense of "our" senseless

Copyright © colin mitchell williams | Year Posted 2009

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Once Upon a Time

Livelihood is in clothing but deprived of its sleeves sustenance never recognizing a path to stability and regularity basic needs tripling into an extended family. Yet I survived. Some long time ago, just any cover above the head was enough and satisfactory. Hustling creates a rare climbing route while givers of admiration aren’t ready to loan it. Yet I pressed on. Great substance has now magnified such identity popularity then serves a mind so ‘hand-some’ red carpets, shots and flashes, escort volunteers sycophants in suits, money-made friends and currency mongers. The lard labour prior to this victory, no one remembers. Life is one, but a meaningful one is immortal any mark can be erased but a stamp stays permanent in a heterogeneous world both graceful and diabolic wealth just adds a number to a ringing name but a hand of great influence attracts the worship of future generations.

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2016

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My Best Teacher

I had some very good primary school teachers who were awesome 
But in all my schooling, one of my college instructors stood out to be super awesome

In our first day of class we all sat on a beautiful mat that she had acquired from one of her travels to a middle eastern country
Then we drank tea in tiny little cups
This is a welcoming gesture that she had learnt from her travels
This special gesture always reminds me of the book Three Cups of Tea
We were about twelve students, about five minorities 
It was called World Studies

That little gesture brought all of us closer

On our last day of class we had an international potluck where we each brought food from our different cultures and ethnic backgrounds
Am sure God was smilling on that day as he watched us try each other's foods and learn about each other through it

I remember a story she told us of how she wore a niqab to her church and stood by the door as a greeter
She talked of how most people avoided her direction, some not even looking at her

She was this petite white woman
She had travelled to twenty something countries worldwide doing missionary work
She had walked on soils where women were regarded inferior and unworthy 
She had put her hands during her missions, in places where white people were loathed

But even with some of the dire situations she found herself into, she still had that caring and loving heart

I remember the projects we did for refugees 
Another of her many passions
She provided healthcare, education and assisted with basic needs acquisitions for them

I learnt that we can all sit down, have a cup of tea, put down our differences and accept each, 
to make this world a peaceful place

Copyright © njeri hunjeri | Year Posted 2015

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Instinct of Innocence

I do not believe in the instincts of innocence for mankind. One could make an argument that someone could be innocent by word or deed, but mankind is complex. Other than our basic needs, our instincts are to learn and gain knowledge. Innocence is somewhat like virginity, and once it’s lost, it’s lost. One can be innocent of not thinking of or doing something bad by some standard, but that would be more about following rules, and the moral nature of a standard and the person. There is sacrifice and forgiveness, but in the truest sense, forgiveness may make one not accountable, but it does not make that person innocent again except in the eyes of whoever is judging. Even accusing someone  of being naive could be a choice of giving trust a chance...not so much an instinct of innocence.

Edward J Ebbs - August 22, 2015
The Instincts Of Innocence - Poetry Contest

Copyright © Edward Ebbs | Year Posted 2015

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God Forbid

God forbid i ever tell on my friends 
God forbid I ever betray my country men

As aesthetic as the gas-mask
Dressed for work, dressed for success
As alien embryos thrive inside glass tubes
101 psychological tactics classified welcome to that classroom
The instructor he's fantastic as unstable as  a bait cast 
Watch for the hook watch for the backlash
The words clandestine written across the chalkboard
He say's Underline the the two words Cherry Terror, The Masters
A hand raises and he looks right past him
As he has flashbacks of the cold war the whole classroom
Ask him in unity why did they outlaw Shock and Awe
He draws a diagram of the food chain and says life is a cycle
He hit the nailed on the head repercussions from cowardly acts 
And now I wonder why my brother's still missing in action
They camouflage sexual harassment 
But in this classroom they call it forced rape
Go back in time, Go back to the Air Forces
Tell me how an alien killed three Airmen 
I guess they die the same way i kill em back with my bare-hands

Copyright © Timothy Jacks | Year Posted 2016

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We were all Innocent

Babies are born everyday
Eyes painted wide, with not much to say
Just basic needs and intimate love
Simplicity, for they know not of
But time surely passes
And questions are formed 
The enemy’s kisses pierce like a thorn

Innocence, we were all
Before we were taught
Before we knew
Before we ever walked our way through
We were, innocent

Looked to our parents, looked to our friends
Bonds sealed with kisses we thought would never end
Shame in our smiles
Guilt in our bones
Masks painted on us with light undertones
Rejection invades and stings at one's core
Society kills what we were made for

Innocence, we were all
Before we were taught
Before we knew
Before we could ever walk our way through
We were innocent

Before the walls and cement were there
Before the sorrow in the air
Before the heartbreaks
Before the fears
Before we ever cried a tear

We were innocent.

By: Sabina Nicole
Written 4-2-12

Copyright © Sabina Nicole | Year Posted 2012

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i am an alien

I’m an alien
From a poor country
 A refugee in a rich country
From a far away third world country
Where corruption as cancer is spread every where
And people starve of hunger.
Within frontiers at El Salvador,
Nicaragua, Guatemala.

Refugees like me come and go
Through the frontiers to Mexico, USA, Europe. 

There is a great difference in the world
 Between rich and poor countries 
Holland is a European rich country 
The older you get the most isolated discriminated you feel.

As in Honduras in Holland there is unemployment.
Families are unable to fulfill their basic needs for their kids.
You can protest it won’t help!
There’s Unemployment, drug addiction 
As cancer poverty spread everywhere in the veins of third world countries. 

People are searching in the garbage.
Can you explain me this difference?
Does it make any sense?

Copyright © juana Guillen | Year Posted 2008

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My Machine

           My Machine

My machine doesn’t need me around no more
It lets me live out of nostalgia and basic needs
Programed to feed me small morsels
Knowing my kind created it and others like it
Assembled along the line
I would swear it was a socialist by design
But machines have no feelings when they cry
Crime is not on their mind when calculating
Machines line up humans in factories to work
To make more of them in reproduction 
That's how they breed  
I call mine mom because it cares for me
Human workers have no rights no more
Permitted to pray to Computer One at alter on factory floors
They let us fulfill their every need
Allow us to sleep a few hours in a week
We feed the king, our leader, the machine
Who comes with many parts but no receipts
Mom gives me a list with perfect instructions
For endless production
Machines never kiss their subjects
That would be unclean and perhaps destructive
Love is a one way street when it comes to machines 
Mine just simply keeps me around like a pet
Perhaps they like to watch us sweat

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015

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A Sure Solution to Economic Woes

A Sure Solution to Economic Woes

By Elton Camp

One way will assure that basic needs are met
So that food, clothing, and shelter you will get
This happens when it’s a robber a man becomes
For from such a life there can be three outcomes

Perhaps the robbery can be successfully done
If so, he can get what he needs plus some fun
On the other hand, it’s to jail he might be going
The things he needs, the prisoner they’re owing

And then there is always possibility number three 
The one the thief certainly hopes won’t come to be
He might be shot and killed while doing the crime
That will solve his economic problems for all time

(The risk of writing satire is that there is some clueless reader who will take it as an 
actual suggestion as happened years ago to the writer of "A Modest Proposal."  
That is less likely at this site which attracts more savvy readers.)

Copyright © Elton Camp | Year Posted 2011

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Nothing in Excess

Nothing in Excess
(the second Delphic maxim of Apollo)

A mixture of the brute and the divine
                                                Man is,
That’s why the strife in his soul never
As the eternal adversaries for superiority
In the depths of everyone’s divided

The brute:
Limited by the dimensions of space and
Intimidated by the oppressive notion of cruel
Frightened by the savage idea of inglorious 
And horrified by the torturous thought of merciless
Eager to pull man down to the material world
And with the heavy chains of bodily pleasures
                                                            Him to tie!
The divine:
Unrestricted by the dimensions of space and
Animated by the lofty idea of unity with
                                                           The ONE,
Strengthened by the noble thought of clement
And exalted by the gracious conception of 
                                             Comforting immortality,
To raise Man up to the immaterial heavens
And with the purified delights of spirit him,
                                                      To nourish!

When the ruthless brute, victorious from the
                                                  Battle emerges
And body’s barbaric-cry of victory
Benign spirit, inside the prison of here and now
                                                             Is found ,
From where, silently, the devastation of divinity,

When eternal spirit triumphant out the war 
And the illumination of the soul, jubilantly,
The perishable brute, even from its basic needs,
                                                         Is deprived,
Thus, slowly, painfully and persistently is fainting, 

Only when the brute and the divine a truce
And their powers under the banner of universal
                                                        Reason unite
Rendering to each other, at the proper time, 
                                                  Its equal share,
Harmony is established in our souls and the
                                                   Human is born!


  ©    Demetrios Trifiatis

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2012

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Tropes On My Island

Tropes On My Island

To go to Tonga like this had not been my plan

Recommended though it was on the lonely planet

Om mantras were now my only companion

Planting seeds in my inner world and mind

In the interest of survival fire rubbed from sticks

Condensation separating salt from water

A salt water crocodile kept me on gritted toes

Lotus food for thought in search of coconuts

Indigenous fruit for fitness strength and

Sustenance with squashy avocado paste and

Lizard skin to heal and protect from sunburn

All basic needs fulfilled when I the cave man

Note and scribe my spiritual enduring message

Dry in the sand for posterity and loving kindness

03rd January 2017

Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2017

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By Ezar

This thought process stops the mentality of the mindset in the projects
Poor is a state of mind not a state of pocket
They call it ghetto but its actually the slave way
Through history this it was taught in the slave trade 
Wealth was kept a mistery by being afraid                          
They gave us welfare help instead of teaching us how to help ourself 
Cause they really need us
Programing the way the school teaches us 
Giving us toys with cool features
Addicted to the ways so we stay a slave for fancy cars and cool sneakers
But that's not enough they enslave us to drugs alcohol and stuff
Making it legal showing it being used by famous people 
They got us trying to live lives of other people
Mind controlling the way we see each other as evil
While they look at us as sheeple 
Making profits from imprisonment so they hope you go to prison again
They say only 5 percent get out and truly win
The rest go into a cycle again and again
It's not about black or white its about rich or poor 
It's about keeping you in the state of mind not wanting more
Telling you to accept what they pay for 
Keeping you sick and poor 
EBT card on the way to the store
Operation Medicaid won't pay for 
Medication patient feen for
Free housing full off lunatics and heroin bricks
Instead of getting ahead your basic needs are an accomplishment
Open your eyes get on deck cause
This thought process stops the mentality of the mindset in the projects Peace

Copyright © Street Cries | Year Posted 2017

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Cosmic Peace

Cosmic Peace

I have been wondering
Ever since you left us,
What were your thoughts 
That early morn?
You were silent 
While you lay quietly on bed.

For the past few months
You had learned to 
Resign to your fate.
Your wounds were healing
Yet tired was your spirit
As you gave in to dependency
On others for your basic needs.
Much did you despise
Calling out to mother and child
To give you a helping hand
For necessities that you wished
To do yourself.
Shame and embarrassment 
Was slowly overtaken by 
I Have No Choice!

That morn you were to walk
Once again.
Mother and child freshened you
And you sipped your tea
Without a sound, without a word.
You were a little tired 
As you lay back to rest,
Never to wake up again.

What thoughts crossed 
Your mind that day?
We thought you were looking forward
To your first footsteps that day.
Or did you think 
My first footsteps were with my mother
The second time would be crazily challenging?
Or is it that granny said
Don't fret, don't exhaust,
I'll take you now on a heavenly journey?
Did you see the divine light
That forewarned you
Your hour has come?
Did god whisper a sweet welcome to you?
Were you happy or sad to leave mother and child?
Dad, did I come for once in your thoughts
Or did I remain in the periphery 
With the earthly transactions
As you transcended into the cosmic peace?

I remain burdened with the bond of love.
I miss your warmth
As you enveloped me saying
The doors of my house are always open.

November 25,, 2015
Conest: A Poem Time Forgot
Sponsor: Silent One

Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015

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No hope No life

No life can exist without hope

As hope is the candle that lights this globe

Give all those around you love and care

Let peace spread here and there

Smile to your life and never be sad

Forget about the problems you once had

Never be jealous and never hate others

Try to love your life even if it bothers

Open your heart to all those around you

Love them and help them even if they do not do

No life can exist without love, care and hope

As they are basic needs in that globe

Copyright © Heba Abdel Azim | Year Posted 2013

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Giving Thanks

The day to utter my words of thanks to those who uplift me is near
So much that gratitude abounds in my heart
Bidding me to shed a tear
To relish my life, willed to me in a comfortably sculpted fate

Thanks do I have to give to my family
They do support me by helping me be
Thanks do I have to give to my friends
In times of need, they do hold our their ready hands

Thanks do I have to give to my readers
Why, their appreciative words do fill me with wonders
Thanks do I have to give to my duty guides
Without them, I would still have been waging blind!

But then, giving away words of thanks
Arouses in me the feel of floating in guilt tanks
Why, thankful I am 
Happy I am

But then, what about those not so lucky
Those being, like me, emotionally unsteady
Those being, unlike me, deprived of food, of shelter
Of protection, of clothing, of clean water

Those for whom daily living is a bloody struggle
Those for whom life is not so cheery
Those for whom death is just a blessing, a liberation
Why, those for whom, this world is just an abomination

Deprived of their basic needs
Deprived of their fundamental rights
Persecuted for holding on firmly to their creeds
So much that to demented habits they do get addicted

Why, guilt floods my soul
Guilt overwhelms my heart
So much that bleeding shall be my eyes
The day I shall offer my gratitude 

Yes, sensibility enrobes my whole being
Pray, someday I hope, I shall have the abilities
Yes, I shall cure this world, I shall make sure
That everyone has thanks to give on the blessed day!

Yes, indeed!
And then, to existence itself
Shall I offer my gratitude
To existence and to the rulers of the universe!

Copyright © Anoucheka Gangabissoon | Year Posted 2016

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Equal Opportunity Thief

You might say that Uncle Sam is equally greedy
High taxes for middle class,the rich,the needy
Doesn't matter partisan lines,there's no reprieve
Situation will get worse,I do believe
Taxes on our basic needs,forget the fluff!
As a U.S. citizen I've had enough
Still,it seems complaining doesn't do much good
He would tax us making whoopee if he could!

* for "Taxing Times" contest
sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire

Copyright © Deb Wilson | Year Posted 2011

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Which Way to Go

We feed each other.
We need each other.
I am not ambitious, but I do have habits to fulfill.
She has only one habit - me, but she is ambitious, and conscientious,
and dedicated to family.

If I am honest I will admit that my "want" is much more than my need.
Her want is equal to her need, and her needs are her life - 
I am one of those needs.

I was a creature headed for the roads - no anchor.
She says she saved me from some great mis-spent life,
and perhaps she is right.
All my short adult life had been survival (at different levels),
not enjoyment - contentment is a brief act, seldom repeated.

We all exist, day-to-day, living in patterns.
She knows I could exist in other worlds,
at lower levels of humanity (if not morality).
She can exist only in her world.
I have grown fat and comfortable in her world.
I have too many possessions - or they have me.
Most of it I could do without, because I know what I can do with only basic needs.

Sometimes I still long for the roads--
for the loneliness--
for the soft carpets of grass and sod--
for the silence of a forest clearing--
for the clear, cold nights--
for my independence.
Lights in the distance - far distance...
but, I love her.

Copyright © John Fox | Year Posted 2016

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The Love of the Father

“Daddy, will you pray with me?” I asked him. 
He sat on my bed, took hold of my hand
and prayed for me.
My pastor father....
his words rising like incense 
up to the throne of grace.
I heard him plead for healing
on my behalf
and then for himself
for divine strength to carry
all of the burdens that he had.
In those sacred moments,
I could hardly breathe
as I squeezed his work worn hands…

When he whispered, “Amen”,
he brought my hand to his lips
and kissed it.
I almost cried
because I realize
that Daddy is getting old
and I cannot bear the thought 
Oh, how it tugs at my heart...
the thought of losing him

“I worry about you,” he said
“You’re my only daughter!”
and after our goodnights
I’m here pouring my heart out tonight
trying to get past the lump in my throat
Because I know...
I know...
these times are precious

God chose to be known as Father
I never had a problem 
understanding the love of God 
because of that term…FATHER

My earthly father
is everything a daughter could want and more
The first man I ever loved
He is honest and hardworking….
He exemplified the meaning of sacrifice
as for years he cared for my mother
wheelchair bound
unable to care for her most basic needs
due to MS
He'd feed, change, and care for her
Serving the church devotedly
Giving all he has…..
An academician...
who sometimes would pay from his pocket
when a student had no money for books
A man who would stop
to give a ride to anyone on the street
A man whose office
and home
Were always open for the weary
A man who stood for truth....
“though the heavens fall”

My father…..
My hero….
The representative
Of my heavenly FATHER!
“How deep the Father’s love for us
How vast beyond all measure.”

Father God!
My Daddy, Johnny!

Matthew 7: 9 – 11 9 “Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10 Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11 If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!

Submitted On January, 4, 2015
Contest: Tell Me About Your Daddy
Sonsor: Judy Konos

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

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Lament of my life

Lament of my life

If something I could do
to change this world,
A drop in ocean although
must have changed some hues ...

Learnings in time
all through and through,
Knowledge attained 
was far from real life basic needs, but 

Wasted were many years
searching the unseen,
while simple facts apparent
I took to closed eyes,

Had I fed the poor,
Had I educated their kids,
Had I known their grief
The hunger, the poverty
in itself graver than disease,
Inequality a silent killer,
Had I applied balm to the bruised souls,
rather than just curing an ailment.

Maybe it's time to change
and feed my soul's hunger,
A change of a doc's role,
turning cards to a social healer,
Try cure the problem, wholesome 
living in content for a cause !

Written March 17th, 2016
For contest "Lament of your life" by Casarah

Copyright © Dr. Upma A. Sharma | Year Posted 2016

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Basic Needs

Touch of 

Copyright © Joshua Lacey | Year Posted 2011

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When the Mind Became Numb

When the mind became numb I didn’t have to feel the rest.
Feelings they say, I laugh, I never felt the blame.

When the mind became numb I didn’t know about the real.
A foreign concept that was a native language to my soul,
It blocked my ability to feed, trapped in the blackest of holes.
Suddenly forgot basic needs, forgetting to eat a meal.

Tell me what life can be, what it can offer
I chose to delete my memory,
I now can’t obtain my memory.
My mind became softer.

When the mind became numb,
I sat in the ash, refusing to awake.
I wanted nothing more than to take
The sorrow into my thumb.

When the mind became numb.

The window shattered from my broken broom.
My parents home smells of lavender and fright,
But I break in shower, devour, and fight for my life.
Falling asleep on my fleece sheets, hiding in my room

It was time to leave into another world.
A world of cleanliness and not needles,
A world full of  fantasies and not overran by beetles.
I had to steer my own direction with a push and a curl.

Graduating from a facility, known as Sundown too some,
Taught me how to take care of myself again,
When the mind became numb.

Copyright © Greg Wilcox | Year Posted 2017

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Existential Threats

Existential Threats...
The art of self preservation,
mastered by our puny race.
Triumphs even matters of the heart,
When choosing between life and death.

The song of lies our society sings,
To give it power and authority to rule,
our lives, our rights and basic needs,
for which they make us fight like dogs,
amongst ourselves to preserve their chair,
and talk about our temporary sad fate.

No, they not of the coming threat posed,
by the wise men they know not.
These politics that man plays to kill their
kins for powers sake.
Such shallow nature, possessed by man
to wield the mighty pen, only to kill.
Kill the competition and survive, 
These threats upon their lives all the while,
blatantly lying in our eyes, with utmost 
confidence in their plans to tear us from our cores.

These crocodile tears they shed,
upon someones death. 
When their time is up they make excuses 
Still only to preserve their chair,
Still blinded by power and sins. 
Oh! they no not these existential threats, 
for the wise men shall save the day,
To return us to our original Fate.
---Udit Uberoi

Copyright © Udit Uberoi | Year Posted 2016