A paternal guide’s absence made for an angered child


and journeyed a rite of passage to rite

as means to digest unwonted stress manifested on paper

Efficient moments bypass

Words manifest

stanzas, paragraphs, collections of

thoughts and feelings

Dharma it must

The poetic medium of expression satisfied me

like a piquant spice to the taste

The genesis of an endeavor with infinite possibilities

Host to innumerable translations we may all share

What to evince and what to covert

Obstacles cascaded down lone walls

insignificant via external


grandeur via internal


the voyage of self discovery



The only parallel for the peculiarity are in the somber crypts of the mind


conflicts are internalized, devour one’s insides, yet my

only haven in disguise

The place that does not critique bearings

To retrospect

Verbal communication is primitive like hellenistic Heliocentrism

Rather speak in terms of the mind’s own merits


Nature including


The rustles of the wind

It’s effect on our behavior

Much more cognitive

Leaning on one’s sense of logic

What I create, I am God over

A Frankensteinian terror at large


A landmark bound irreversible

composed of rhythmic matter

This realization too exquisite


before was I unique at


Thoughts transcribed into words only then are they immortalized

This fantasy power was a potency of poison

Endless pages and pages

Words with such hateful and angry connotations

Became obsessed

Unknowing of a growing insatiable hunger

to rite


Traditional studies were meaningless

I hoped for an exit like sweat, tears, and blood out creased glands

Even then

blood would not ooze like my words on paper

Just felt so good to release my feelings

Ideas just flew through like lava upon a mountainside


At school

Became much of an outsider

The extent of my isolation drove me mad

Felt like the only survivor of a plane crash that no other would bother worry.

Never succumb to peer pressure or fear to appear lesser

One’s process of justification

As my friends were up to wrongdoings

Opted out

To be a good kid

With such unpredictable emotions babbled


I always was


I think


Just for the sake of being different, would claim to be religious

Cannot remember the last time one collided two hands to pray

Are you worthy of His approval?

When things looked the worst, would pray for a way out, not to help

Selfish, such a selfish person

Never catering to the needs of others

Always taking never giving


except when one was forced to

My mother being an activist tells me to assist in events


looked at them as opportunities to grow

but to complain in public

Indicating an infectious need to complain


With the major question being

Why is this the way it is?


One questions one’s surroundings as one fears to question oneself

One fears to realize one’s imperfections in one’s mind

but no fear on paper

This medium is like a cure for distress and second guessings.

A cure that rids all of one's implications and lets one be


One’s characteristics are gone like an oblivion

One acknowledges that one cannot acknowledge oneself as clear as a coma patient’s thoughts

One questions a lot on platforms awaiting trains

Here one is an

Everyday Man

Capital F is one’s Capital

So many goals with minor accomplishments

Nighttime rolls around and one still struggles to sleep

Not much of a struggle as one wishes not to sleep.

One stays up late to avoid a quick awakening and the eroding voice of one’s mother telling one to shower and prepare for school

The voice of a thousand daggers piercing one’s ears

worst than diabetic nerve pains


Up late

Mouse squeaking stairs

make it impossible to sneak to the living room

Mom’s ears and eyes are ever watchful

Just remain in one’s room, miserable listening to the CLICK-CLICK-CLICK of one’s clock

go on


This is one’s reflection hour where I contemplate

In spite of all one’s suffering and aches throughout one’s life

just remember

there is a person in this world with

a much bigger problem than you

and feels more


Just be grateful for another eye awakening

















This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 



I wrote this poem as a reflection on myself and my love of poetry. It was through poetry that I feel I am able to communicate with people the best. Not through speaking, but my words. When I discovered poetry, it was like receiving a gift you cherish dearly.

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