If time of bad desire
Sits its rejection then,
It has crossed the limit.
When government gets err,
People suffer with rage.
If their rights neglect
Electing leaders by money
Tampered, pre-meditated
Betrayed by ill digital,
What democracy we expect
What progress we proceed
Sooner it invite violence.
The good is being assailed
For good men done nothing.
What do evil will do here
But to steal, to kill
Eventually, to destroy.
Everything hinder its path
Is obliteration, painful.
That sour grip is winning
Pomp into power, ill glory.
It's disheartening to core
Democracy is a distortion
Of too much bad influence
Greediness and lavishness
Die with your ill system
One day grave will hate
Patriots who died echoing,
With a loud voice rebuking,
Cursing, yell of nationalism
Saying, what have you done
Intellectual, youth of pride
People of good moral, wiser
What face our country has
What future for next gen
Where is free moral agency
What have you contribute
What have we as people.
Childish.
Clingy.
Needy.
Immature.
All things describing me.
All things people find annoying.
All things my love has found a nuisance.
I try to not be overwhelming.
I try not to be overbearing.
But sometimes I can’t help it.
I feel safe.
I feel protected.
I feel at home with him.
It feels secure enough to act childish.
I thought it was fine.
I thought he didn’t mind.
Until he said I need to change.
Until he said I need to “act like the public.”
Until he thought I couldn’t be mature.
I know how to act properly around adults.
I know how to be mature.
Why did he say that?
I thought he knew I could be responsible.
But he thinks I’m immature…
He thinks I have to change…
Not around him, he said.
But around others…
He doesn’t know I have to mirror.
He doesn’t know I forget my own personality sometimes,
all because of mirroring others so much.
To be “normal.”
To be “like the public.”
I thought it was safe…
I thought I was protected…
I thought it was ok to let myself be…
I was wrong.
Now I don’t know what to do.
Now I feel stupid.
Annoying.
Childish.
Needy.
Immature.
Maturity is something which
Has come and gone with me.
I am a man - but then can be
A boy again, you see.
Sometimes, I can set aside
My adult obligations...
Trading them for short-lived fun
In said sad celebrations.
Something deep and within me
Is triggered in my mind.
This, I ask - is what I seek
In life so hard to find?
Maybe so, and why I choose
To often make a task
Out of escaping who I am
By putting on a mask.
Saying this, I am aware
There is another choice...
This depends on me more so
To speak and use my voice.
How will anybody know
If I do not express?
Keeping it inside leaves me
With nothing to address.
I know that I am good enough
And that I will succeed
As long as I keep this in mind...
That I am all I need.
Being immature will not
Get me anywhere.
Instead, deciding to man up
Is sure to get me there.
Childlike wonder fades,
In the mirror, time's soft theft.
Hearts once light, now weigh,
Dreams of youth, a distant breath,
Wisdom's price, the joy it left.
WE ARE STILL IMMATURE
We are still pupils, to be in love.
Still pupils to drive ourselves through better life.
Still immature to do what our central parts love.
Still young to be parents, as we still depend on our folks.
We have nothing, but affectionate.
Nothing but love for each other.
Love represents us as everything to each other.
We are still learners, for our future to be bright, and live the live we are wishing to have.
Where nobody can control us.
Where somebody can learn to live from us.
Where somebody can learn to love in a relationship from us.
But for now we still young.
Only poo can make this world seem bright
Only poo can make what's heavy light
Only poo and poo alone can thrill me to the bone
So I fill my toilet to the brim with poo.
You placed yourself in harm’s way.
I hated that you would join the fray.
Now you bravely faced and fought
the devil I had stupidly bought.
It was unwise, absurd from the start,
Foolish and silly to be in my heart.
You said, “No. Let’s not do this.”
I said, “Yes.” and gave you a kiss.
You staunchly stood in front of the crowd
Leaving me behind, frightened and cowed.
The melee began and I was gobstruck.
How could I have bought such bad luck?
You moved with dexterity but in the end
You were injured but thankfully, left to mend.
A black and blue eye and raging road rash,
I regretted my call to be bold and brash.
I realized how immature I had been.
I should have listened to you my friend.
You took the beating rather than flee.
Courageously defended my right to be me.
(3 Haikus)
Immature - is a
word boring people use to
describe fun people
I should start a book,
a thick notebook to keep
inappropriate thoughts
Ever look at friends
and think, "Wow, we're gonna
be some weird adults?"
Sleep is my drug, my
bed is the dealer, my clock
the cops and school the jail.
Dangling on a string in his underwear
Looking ridiculous and without flair
Tempting fate on a simple silly dare
Without a hint of worry or a care
Blissfully too ignorant to beware
Lest he falls flat on his fat derriere
Can he be so dumb blindly unaware
So quickly thrills can mutate to a scare
Giggles quick to vanish into thin air
An evening of fun can turn to nightmare
I swear he hasn't got in hell a prayer
Someday somehow somewhere I do declare
I’ll throw up my arms in total despair
He's a lost cause of blatant laissez-faire
Can you believe our friend's a millionaire
Don't you agree that life is so unfair
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Posted on January 10, 2019
Keep on..... Forging
On the anvil,
Not yet formed.
Hugging….warmth,
Beneath soil,
Not yet sprout.
Shining….. Bright
Behind clouds,
Not yet peeked.
Bearing story,
Slithering…. with in
Not yet told.
In morning spring.......
Whispered breeze,
Not yet bloomed.
Iced love,
Dwelling…… in heart
Not yet revealed.
I will walk away if you approach me
I will run away into the mountains
I will stay there for a while
I am afraid you wont like me
I am afraid of your angry face
I am afraid of myself
I may tell a lie
I may rage against you
I may tell a joke that is not funny at all
I keep my distance from you
I know what I need to do
I need to grow-up to really love you
Can you wait another 20 years?
GAME OF THE IMMATURE
I hog
the blog
I tease
with ease
not crude
but rude
they rile
I smile
how droll
to troll
31/3/17
What is reality?
There are no answers to this
question nor will there ever be
yet we still asked it.
And if someone were to answer
it then such a person couldn't
be human.
Because that would be like
trying to explain water to a
fish.
Reality is a burr, a flashing light
of remarkable hope, sorrow,
Joy, music, or poetry written
underneath a coffee shop table.
Reality is humanity.
But humanity isn't reality.
Reality is the meaning of
helplessness and the inspiration
that gets you up in the
morning.
Reality is forever a hypocrite
but always humble enough to
admit it's fault without denying
a lie.
Reality isn't perfect yet such a
miracle only happens once.
Reality is complex.
Yet stupid.
And we should give up and
accept it.
But never roll over and let it
pass us.
- Robert burton
Don’t fall in love looking through immature eyes
Then wake up to see that you married an immature mate
Get a standard and raise it high and let it guide you to your maturity too
Warning this standard is not superficial
But the standard is a heart and character issue
Adhering to the heart and character is a bigger step of one’s maturity
Oh my mate has a good heart and great character traits
But wait you got to date long enough to know if there’s any wavering
This standard you should never settle for less
For the heart and character is the deal breaker for a marriage success
Be careful dont pick a mate looking through immature eyes to create a chance to fall in love with the wrong mate
To create a chance to be so in love to where you're overwhelmed with feeling like it is a necessity to get married
But to the wrong mate.?!
So while accessing your significant other just make sure you are not looking threw immature eyes
Be careful, dont marry looking through immature eyes and marry an immature mate
Take heed to SOME signs: when they winning, lying, cheating, hold dumb grudges, easily unforgiving, aggressive tones and communication shut downs. When they hit you, belittle you, talk harsh to you, when they show disrespect of any kind to you.
These are clues of an immature mate
Where only the immature eyes overlooks this with denial
Immature Eyes wait and grow
Take heed and don’t marry that immature mate
Maturity is saying no to this immature mate and being strong enough to walk away
Maturity is willing to walk through that hurting heart break
Because you know one day it is going to be okay
For you should not marry that immature mate, that will cost you greater, and exceedingly, and abundantly, way more heart breaks than today’s
We need to love ourselves, learn and create ourselves
Mature and wait, wait for your God sent mate.
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