A thought
There was a day when I used to be happy,
There was a day when I felt like alive,
But now I am not even me ,
Different person in my cover,
This is what I think over and over.
Maybe time travel was not a myth,
I could go back and enjoy the time a bit,
To the young, I just wanted to meet,
Give him a hug and an advice a bit,
Nah, not possible from the chair I sit.
Just some words floating in my mind,
Always troubling me not so kind,
May me there is a place of my
True self where I can find.
What is love that I didn't got,
In the pool of hate I had to rot,
A boring life waiting for a dot,
A boring life waiting for a dot.
What is the real meaning of life ?
To just work till the end for a thrive ?
Or its the road, we just taking a drive?
Thought enough in a stanza of five.
Africa said that I am continent
and I said as low or to what extend?
or let think over again and again the other things
O however war and peace
by the way the english man the proof of pudding is by
eating.
Africa said that I am continent
and I said as low or to what extend?
or let think over again and again the other things
O however war and peace
by the way the english man the proof of pudding is by
eating.
Africa said that I am continent
and I said as low or to what extend?
or let think over again and again the other things
O however war and peace
by the way the english man the proof of pudding is by
eating.
I pat this country that something will come
and stay and may not be so much a new thing
to the world?.
O Mark the word stay, think over it, remember massacre
is too a celebration day or which calamity is
overwhelming?, I think why sometimes monster
is monster, because it may commit suicide and killings-
Now, what is what other than perhaps vulnerability
and self-defeat.
At the end of the day love will become the subject
of controversy if not mysterious or magical or fantastical
or adventurous exploitations?.
In shopping centres, bright and wide,
Where our dreams can fly and glide,
We wrap our hearts in things we've bought,
Forgetting stars, by city lights caught.
Yet, whispers of change might find their way,
As people stand up, by the ocean's spray.
Our Earth, they say, is worth more than play,
A future where green and blue can stay.
We must think over, our habits laid out,
With seas of plastic, and skies of doubt.
It's in our actions, clear and stout,
To choose to live, to truly shout.
To save our home, we should all band,
From dawn's light to night's last stand.
It's up to us, to lend a hand,
A fight for right, across the land.
But history's glance, so sharp and keen,
Will judge what we might have been.
In future's tale, it would be seen,
Our legacy, like a lost green dream.
Yet, it must have been right in our clasp,
To mend the breaks, to free the grasp.
And we could have chosen a kinder path,
For Earth, a haven, not aftermath.
I had a lunatic feeling, once, of caging a bird,
I had purchased a very beautifully-looking cage;
I had kept a myna in it and did very well gird,
I saw to it that she felt happy and in joy engage...!
Was my myna happy? Did I think over any time?
Did she eat whatever I had lovingly thrown at her?
Barley, Brown Rice, Buckwheat, Bulgur, and gave the best of lime,
Did she feel that I saw to the best growth of her fine fur...?
I was self-content that my myna liked me very much,
Who can, yet, tell who likes who and hates who and who kills?
I've done everything for her, I thought; left nothing as such,
Why should my myna fly away from me and went black hills...?
I, then, understood that my myna wanted liberty,
Which existing being does not love creativity...???
Gritty matters to sleep over,
Round last decision not hover:
One should not before a rally
Say things that do not just tally:
Food for thought for mister Sally
Liable to dilly dally...
Begging issues to think over
By even big guys in clover
Though,not about Jerusalem
Nor the street-Tough in Rough Harlem:
Hot matters not unlike sharp thorn,
Parts of the mind that neared them torn,
A sound head in the morn bad ache
And it was for their bloody sake...
Still,matters like thorn Men have torn
And conqueror's face and smile worn!
Any time a heart
falls in love,
he always finds himself
in so many troubles
as he deceives himself
much more than
he decieves any other heart,
That's why, there is no heart
without problems
What a pity!
Today my heart
has fallen in love again,
And once more,
I beg my heart
to think over
what might happen
to me, then
Whenever he's in love,
he flies high in the sky
but no one can see
the eyes of my body dry
And no matter how many times
I wish him not to hit me
where it hurts,
He never cares, as he
-as usual- comes through
leaving me behind
as one of his flirts
Once he is in love,
he's, all the time, out of control,
So, in such a case,
there is only one thing
to say, "May God help,
save and rescue me
before I am pulled
into a black hole",
for I'm unfortunately
subject to my heart
as a whole
Think over
Don’t over think
Over thinking
Makes thoughts to end
Makes all things over
Over to you to think
Over thinking is bad
Don’t
I've arrived in middle.
I 've arrived in middle of my journey as riddle.
Today it was third day ,
No sunshine it's a cloudy day.
The term of English is now over.
Regarding the next I have to think over.
three done and three remains to be left.
writing long answers seems like paying a debt.
I am standing between the bridge .
feeling tired at little bit freeze.
I have to go half miles more.
though I am bore but I have to score.
I just want to stand a still.
But standing is a obstacle to reach the hill.
eyes are saying they wanted to sleep.
But I have to awake for the promises I keep.
I've arrived in middle.
I 've arrived in middle of my journey as riddle.
Today it was third day ,
No sunshine it's a cloudy day.
The term of English is now over.
Regarding the next I have to think over.
three done and three remains to be left.
writing long answers seems like paying a debt.
I am standing between the bridge .
feeling tired at little bit freeze.
I have to go half miles more.
though I am bore but I have to score.
I just want to stand a still.
But standing is a obstacle to reach the hill.
eyes are saying they wanted to sleep.
But I have to awake for the promises I keep.
Life is hard
but not so far,
dreams comes true,
need to speed up ur car.
Ups nd downs
Jerks nd jolts
Let's tighten up ur belt,
don't you knelt
moves round round
on the life's ground.
Once you win
raise up their chin
praises of kin
those people made din.
Life is a test
do your best,
Problems nd miseries
not little bit
let's think over it
work like a kid
to get rid of it.
From The Edge of Reality's Plain
by M. Griswold
090204
Greetings and salutations from the edge of reality's plain.
Of course this means I think with the right side of my brain.
A place where thoughts most always expand out of themselves.
Then almost never collect dust from being left on the shelves.
Being left handed, south pawed in a right handed world.
Is kinda like dyslexic in a place already curled and swirled.
But offers another distorted look through clouded glasses dim.
To left brain folks whom can't think over the box's rigid rim.
So I suggest, in my own insane, odd, and strange way,
It is good to have thoughts that roll round and play.
For if we all thought alike and did exactly the same,
No progress would ever come nor creativity catch flame.
Thusly I say, my friend, that I am as sane as anyone of you.
Just a little off dead center and to the right in reality's rue.
And if I seem just a small, little bit insanely cuckoo crazy.
It's because my right brain is logically, arithmetically lazy.
After the sunset of happiness
there was only darkness
every tripper had went to their zone
only one birdie had lost his way to home
he stood by hope and nothing moreover
when this night will over...
By wiping some memories with tears
Searching a way in the dark with fear
Was knocking every close portal here and there
Searching a hope from somewhere
After all ill fated tries he just think over
When this night will over.....
This night should over for the new sunshine
So that birdie can flew in the welkin
With new dreams he will swing
He was ready with his unfurl wings
By wiping tears he was repeating over and over
When this night will over...
When this night will over...
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