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Musings of a random girl

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About this blog

Just random stuff. Poems, ramblings and whatever that runs through my mind.  

Entries in this blog

goldenangel

soft whispers

soft whispers, as trees rustle, dancing to the wind's beat. as oceans hustle, mountains slowly move, and the distance of valleys grow smaller, its time and  not even land or sea will come 
in between of what's mine

goldenangel

nostalgia

it reeks of nostalgia
a deja vu that I can't explain
when withered roses
appear red with supple petals
it reeks of nostalgia
when black and white pictures
beam with the colors of moving people
capturered in image
as time stands still in that moment
it reeks of nostalgia
a deja vu i can't explain
but only play in my memory through

goldenangel

Dear Time

Dear Time,

Confusion fills me to the brim as I glance at you

You are a dictator that insist on only moving forward

"No looking back" is the rule deeply written in your veins

"Why", I ask

"Why", we ask

"The past can't be unerased.", you stiffly reply

As I sit here mulling over the seeds of yesterday

The roots it has grown into today

And the flower it will bloom into tomorrow

I have still yet to comprehend why the past can't be unerased

Or the fact that all we have is 24 hours a day to utilize 

24 hours that some people never get to live through fully

Because time insists on slicing away innocents' life span it seems

Dear time

You are a hard dictator with a fatherly like gaze

Who insist on throwing storms as you please

And extracting lives as you deem

Before this seed is even fully grown

Can't comprehend you fully I'd say

But to live today is a gift

Which I suppose is all that matters

Today

goldenangel

Oh, Cold Child

Oh, cold child
To dust we've lost our homes 
The strength of greed was too strong
And my bones shake with gratitude 
As I silently pray you never witnessed
The lust of hatred buried in their eyes
In hopes that the young of your mind
Shields you from the cruelty that overlaps 
This very Earth that we lay our feet on 
The sunflower that beams to the sun's gleam 
Has gone withered at the absence of our community spirit
Oh, cold child
Gone is our homes as everything is left behind
But what is in remain is our dignity
I hope that as you grow in years
Your world will be a better one than ours was

 
 
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