Scribbled Thoughts

Fickle nature

to decide my actions,

motivation or pity

depending on the verdict,

but even that

won’t help

predict my mood

that accompanies

whatever waits

beyond the moment.

Live on

as my legacy

and make my actions

legendary,

remember the honour

of a hero

but forge your

own fate.

I will be watching.

Elder in mischief,

direct my energy

to sprint into growth

so I can follow you

forever

and be this happy

and free

always.

I can be funny,

honest,

and that disguises the truth

that crowds are uncomfortable,

focused eyes make me sweat

and the thought of people listening

keeps me awake,

my stupid words

echoing in my mind

and laughing at the idea

I am actually liked

instead of pitied.

Peace of silence,

closed to the outside world

and sheltered for one day

to hide and bask

in being alone,

before everything

returns to normal

and the moment is lost.

Tiny life

already floating

above water,

bobbing and weaving

at quacked commands

and feeling the admired gazes

of those passing by

between their complications

and desperate struggle

to fuel their dreams.

Admire the fluffy

breathing balls

and continue on.

The heat of pressure

and constant presence

begins to blend

into a bubbling sauna,

cleansing skin

and reviving the mind

once cool air returns.

(Looks like I kept my streak after all, so this is day 376)

Stock up the special

and mass produce

the unique,

ready for the rush

of demand,

because soon it

will be gone again

and that makes

it worth something.

(I completely forgot to post yesterday and lost my 573 day streak. So here’s two poems today.)

End of a streak,

reset to zero

and lose all progress.

Is it worth beginning again?

Am I even needed

anymore,

walking like a shadow

with no voice

and no weight,

invisible to change

and existence.

Fade until they forget,

not even pausing

to acknowledge

the loss.