Author's Notes/Comments: 


Places Worth Remembering (January day 28)

last night

I accidentally shattered my mirror


so if I can only see you in this moment

right here when you hear me

and hold me just the same


if I can only speak and not hear the echo

and say the right things I am supposed to regret


if I can only hold pieces that have already shattered

and know they will survive


if I can only see reflections of myself

in places worth remembering

in places I am bound to


well maybe now I will stop looking in

and start looking out

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 1/28/21


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my father is a fortified man 
with dark, verdant eyes 
that shame the forest moss
that burn harsh and cold
seeing through deception 
honest, stern, but fair

my mother is a gentle woman
with soft, cerulean eyes 
that transcend the clearest sea
that glow bright and warm 
always saying the right thing 
tolerant, caring, but unwavering 

and I was born with that azure gaze 
though mine is not same 
on half my left eye
a drop of my father's jade 
and so I see the world 
as an even balance 
through both my parents eyes

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A Single Ray of Sunlight

Walking in darkness,

sometimes we forget

that light exists.


We fixate on what hurts us

deriving identity

from our pain.

We look away

from the hands

that could rescue us.



Filled with regret



Our vision blurred

our perspective limited

our views tainted




Our constant companions.

Forgetting how to feel,

how to love.

Forgetting who we are,

letting shame define us.





Threaten to consume us




Everything we believe about ourselves

and the world

and the people around us

is a lie,

Warped by our own twisted thoughts

This is OUR world

But it is not THE world

Change is possible.

For you, for me, for all who see

through darkened eyes.

It comes in small moments of clarity,

like a single ray of sunlight

slicing through the clouds

The road to peace

can be a long one,

but the journey begins

with hope.

The dream of dreams we chase

When I was a little kid, I didn’t understand the struggle. I minded myself in my trouble free bubble.

I lived life without caring, what my actions might cause. It was sooner as a teenager I learned all about the flaws.


I wanted to be a policeman, why? Because I thought they were cool. But thanks to imagination less supervisors, my dream faded in school.

‘’You shouldn’t even bother, you don’t have the potential. No matter what your dreams are, for our system it’s inconsequential’’.


I walked home that day from school, feeling all my dreams were crushed. Like someone took it out off my head, put in the toilet and flushed.


I felt an anger rise in me from somewhere I can’t recall. Why did I have to be let down, when others who had dreamt the same, got their picture hung up on the wall?


We always hear you can make it to the top by working hard. How can I do that, when others take my goals and press discard?


I said to myself what happened today wasn’t fair. I will train, push my boundaries, I will prove you wrong I swear!


Each day on a piece paper, I wrote little milestones I had to complete. I didn’t stop before I was satisfied, I wouldn’t keep sitting on the passenger seat.


I wouldn’t hesitate putting more weight on in the gym and on my shoulders. Before I helped them, now I passed by people who had wrote their dreams onto folders.


I didn’t care about anyone but myself, why should I? I was the guy, who flew high up till the sky, you were just on standby.


I become a roaming robot, who was controlled by the evil voices. They directed me, led me to some risky and stupid choices.


In all of this madness, I realized what I had become. I looked down on my self, how could I be so dump?


I was sucked into the dark side, the world of meaningless competition. I had abandoned my sane for this, had forgotten about my true life mission.


This was many years ago, I’m different today. The only way to express my happiness, is by going down on my knees and pray.


Martin Luther King’s dream wasn’t about fame, it was about equality. They dream we chase today are just a twisted apology.


Today I’m not chasing any dreams, I am at rest with myself. I am so damn grateful for what I have, I’ll never again put it on a shelf.


Whenever I feel the world is going down and I’m stressed. I just have to sit down in my chair, and think about, that I’m blessed.


I have been the one who had been giving the gift of life. When I get older, I’ll teach my children what I learned, smiling while sitting next to my beautiful wife.


I am here to tell you, you need to give yourself some more credit and respect. Because you can do so much more than you expect.


There will come many people into your life, and tell you how to beat this life long race. The beauty is, I’ve found my own version, of the dream of dreams we chase.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a poem about the american dream. It's passed on what the dream is. It's not just about fame. The story in this poem is a story from my personal life. 

I wont spoil too mucn, because I also want to you to think what the poem means. 

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No Angel



Stitched wings

Attached to frail bones

Darkened eyes

Lifeless as stone

Halo teetering

By uneven horns

Once a smile

Before being born

No color shown

Pallet a pasty pale

Never any sunshine

In a world so stale

Lips crusted over

From the words unspoken

Corrupted mind

In a soul that’s broken

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A new world

There are things I wish I knew,

things I hope to never believe.

All these things I must

Get Through,

but before I loose hope,

I look the other way.

In every direction 

that's possible.

To find Perspective,

is to find Another World.

When you're not happy 

with what you see

all you need is 

A New World

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Her Perspective

I found a girl, and saw her perspective
Silent, yet surprisingly reflective
They claimed she was away, entirely defective

But I knew otherwise just from the look in her eyes
I saw through the silent, and closed off disguise

And from there, I saw the immediate connection
Completely dissected, but still searches for true affection


Her warm, yet crooked emotion
A calmed, yet broken devotion


Silent, but struggling for her sound
and yet, still not a face found


Her skin torn, gone and rotten.
Her mouth stolen, words lost, ignored and forgotten.


She was exposed to all of the morbid things
Corrupted lies, and uneven broken wings


All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew


And she left sudden, without a word,
Her existence she seen was too blurred


Before I could realize, she was gone and done
Did you ever wonder what life can become?


All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew..

Greatest Work

To make it right, you can take away

until only skin and bones remain.

With elixirs you can reign over pleasure and pain,

you can go on,

feeling only frustration that there is something missing,

that in this piece you cannot find more than a morsel

of dignity, which wouldn't bother you so much

except that you can sense the potential

 for so much more.

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