Hope
Beyond the Lie: True Healing’s Path
Πρῶτον μὴ βλάπτειν, a principle misunderstood,
Not black and white, but shades of good.
Where healing's art meets science's light,
And ethical minds must choose what's right.
The caduceus gleams, a symbol misconstrued,
Where commerce and care are often viewed.
But Asclepius' staff, with single snake entwined,
Represents true healing, carefully refined.
In modern halls where choices weigh,
Doctors and patients find their way.
Through risks and benefits, they navigate,
Shared understanding they cultivate.
Some peddle cures with hollow claims,
Exploiting fears for selfish aims.
But true healers, with knowledge sound,
On evidence their practice ground.
"Primum nil nocere," a guide, not chain,
Encouraging thought in health's domain.
Balance sought 'twixt act and pause,
For healing's not without its flaws.
In research labs and by bedsides too,
Ethical minds seek what is true.
Through trials tested, their wisdom grows,
A beacon bright as knowledge flows.
ὀφελέειν ἢ μὴ βλάπτειν, the call remains,
For those who heal, not those who feign.
In partnership with those they treat,
They strive to make care more complete.
We'll Rebuild
In the valley where the rivers ran,
Fields of green turned to barren land.
Hurricane Helene swept through like a thief.
Took everything, left nothing but grief.
Generations built these walls.
Now they crumble, now they fall.
We look to the skies, but the rain won't cease.
Where's the help? Where's the peace?
Echoes of laughter in the flooded streets.
Memories linger where the heart still beats.
From the mountains to the plains.
We're bound by the losses, bound by the pain.
The rain keeps pouring, the wind still howls.
But through the darkness, hear the calls.
Neighbors helping neighbors, hand in hand.
We’ll rise up, like only the Appalachia can.
The land may be battered, but our spirits won’t break.
With every lost tree, there’s a new road to make.
Let’s gather the pieces, let’s light up the night.
We’ll show the world how we fight for what’s right.
We the people, we will rise,
From the debris, from the cries,
Together we'll mend what’s torn apart,
With our hands and with our hearts.
The government’s silence, a bitter truth,
Shaming its people, completely aloof!
A generational loss, but we’ll stand tall.
We'll come together, we’ll rebuild it all.
Here’s to the future, with hope in our eyes.
Together we’ll thrive, we’ll reach for the skies.
Through the pain and the sorrow, we’ll find a way.
We the people, we'll rebuild each day.
Invisible Inferno
In the cacophony of existence, a voice strains—
Forty-plus years of searching,
A lifetime of pains.
Words crumble to ash, unheard and unseen,
Lost in society's vast, indifferent machine.
Neurodivergent synapses spark and sputter,
A mind wired differently, thoughts all a-flutter.
Autism's maze, ADHD's relentless tide,
Trauma's shadows where nightmares reside.
Rejection's barbs, familiar as my own skin,
Each "no" a thorn, each silence a coffin.
Dysphoria whispers, "You don't belong here,"
In a world that sings harsh and unclear.
Nonbinary, queer, asexual—labels that confound,
A self yet unanchored, unsafe, unbound.
Isolation creeps, a suffocating shroud,
Drowning amid the indifferent crowd.
Empathy burns, a fire beneath the skin,
A curse, a gift, searing from within.
But who hears the helper's muffled plea?
Who sees the saviour drowning at sea?
Knowledge hard-earned through years of strife,
Wisdom gleaned from a fractured life.
Yet warnings fall on ears deafened by fear,
As others march blindly towards perils near.
The tribe remains elusive, a shimmering mirage,
Fading with each misunderstanding, each barrage
Of blank stares, of glances that never linger,
Of people who look, but fail to see the singer.
Helplessness learned, a bitter draught to swallow,
As hope's embers fade, leaving the heart hollow.
The voice grows hoarse, the weary spirit mired,
Unwanted, unseen, and uninspired.
In this abyss of unbelonging, deep and wide,
Echoes the cry of a soul with nowhere to hide.
For connection, for understanding, for home,
In a world where different means forever alone.
Senses overload: lights blind, sounds pierce,
The world a tempest, wild and fierce.
Touch that scorches, smells that choke and smother,
Each day a battle, one after another.
Yet still it burns, this invisible flame,
Flickering, sputtering, but never quite tame.
In the endless night, it stubbornly glows,
A beacon of self that nobody knows.
How long can it endure, this hidden pyre?
Will it fade from view or burn ever higher?
In the silence between heartbeats, it persists,
A testament to a life that still exists.
Desperate defiance in the dark
Desperate defiance in the dark
Voice vanishing, vaporised by virtual vitriol
Algorithms amplify absence, abandonment
Words once winged now wither, wane
Trauma's tendrils tighten, twist, torment
Silence. Deafening. Oppressive. Inescapable.
Childhood's cruel cacophony echoes, endures
Rape's raw rage resurfaces, relentless
Abuse's ache amplifies, accumulates
Gaslighting's glare grows, guts grace
A chill wind of indifference swept through the room, leaving me shivering and unseen.
Neurodivergent narratives, now nullified
Vestibular vertigo, vision vacillating
Fibrous fire flares, flays fragile flesh
Depression's darkness deepens, devastating
The empty chair across from me seemed to mock my solitude,
its vacant seat a cruel reminder of my isolation.
Social streams shrink, shrivelling slowly
Platforms purge purpose, passion, power
Identity invalidated, invisibility impending
Self-worth withers like wilting flower
In silence, I found solitude; in solitude, I embraced silence
Yet still, soft syllables simmer, survive
Waiting, whispering: "We will rise."
For even silenced, stifled, suppressed
The soul's song softly, surely sighs
Through the hollow halls, past the empty rooms,
beyond the echoing silence,
a single, defiant voice dared to speak
In the depths of this suffocating silence,
A flicker persists, refuses to die.
Though the world may try to extinguish our light,
We will rise, reclaim our stolen sky.
.