It is true there is widespread of immorality and oppression, and though their definitions vary across geographical locations and religions. What is being witnessed now in the world has traversed all boundaries.
Laws have been made and many are on their way, in hope to tackle this problem. But what has been achieved is successively creating new problems while temporarily hypnotizing one. New laws pave ways to new crimes.
A reality deliberately ignored is, humans are inclined toward commiting crime. Fortunately, they weigh the pros and cons.
Note: Am i on the right track?
#review #AhmadMusa #prose
Laws have been made and many are on their way, in hope to tackle this problem. But what has been achieved is successively creating new problems while temporarily hypnotizing one. New laws pave ways to new crimes.
A reality deliberately ignored is, humans are inclined toward commiting crime. Fortunately, they weigh the pros and cons.
Note: Am i on the right track?
#review #AhmadMusa #prose
#review #prose #Volfortat
Title: O' Lost laughing coffin
PART-1
Desire Increase from the shedding blood, a word, a momentum, and all the life’s choices would circle a woman. A Woman, who is deep in young blood, made a choice, to be cast out of heaven to live with her ancestors in hell, who is this woman? What’s behind the cloak, and behind the mask? A mask so rooted in hiding the face, that you probably would ask, but no answer would you know.
7:00 AM
– Oh that’s true isn’t it? Yes, that is the truth, but how come? Voice’s inspiring me, but none seem to let go of him? I may as well be a lucky bastard. – Said Jade, a young woman from London’s suburbs, in the outskirts of Havering, talking to herself. Didn’t slept since Yesterday, and ended up going an all Night awake for she’s a programmer, and a skilled one even, though she is just a young student at a school, with not many friends, or even a single one, she is, In the internet, one of the most famous programmers, one even might say she’s a hacker, but how come? She passes all night and all day looking for ways, looking for means, looking for tools, looking to leafs of inspiration to hack. But no matter. She had to sleep, for tomorrow it’s exam day, and even she, with no worrying over it, had reserved a time for studying, but it’s already 7:00 AM, it’s already tomorrow, how can she study? How can she, write and observe the subject? In a nearly scientific way of thinking? She couldn’t, she said she would memorize all of It in 2 hours before going to sleep, but now? Now? She couldn’t:
– Damn, it’s already 7:05 AM, I have to go – So she prepared herself, and after that, she took her cloak, and her pockets? Full of the keys, the wallet, and her phone. And went. Getting out of the house was quickly, but getting out of the neighborhood was more difficult, not because of some sloppy gangster, or some fool tying to rob her, as her neighborhood was full of such mysteries but instead, it was because the train, where she should go was not waiting, and to go to London, was a rather odd experience. All roads lead to London town, but she wasn’t in the best of times, and as such she hurried, she rans and asks for forgiveness after she collides with a merchant, and destroys half of the store (Or so it seemed) as running in the deep streets of Havering was dark and poisoned to the mind, not only by the smoke but by the snow, not only by the Crystal that it glances the eye, but also by the people there, full of distrust and sorrow, as it was poor Havering, a dark place for dark people (Or so it seemed). She stops running and says she can’t go any longer running, the feast of bits and bytes were cold but she could turn anything into a hot meal, nevertheless it was cold, and she couldn’t be waiting any longer for the train, as she was already there in 15 minutes. 15 Minutes running, who could tell she was this athletic? No one, for everyone says she was nothing but a lousy mouse of the library, a nerd-looking girl from the computers, but I guess everything Is better when motives are in higher demand. But while waiting for the train, almost a minute before she decided leaving, a strange person appears in the tracks, she’s smiling at her, and says: “Won’t be long after you join me” – She screams for help, a human being is now at stake, but everyone seems normal, and everyone stays calm, someone asks “Who are you talking about”, and she says that a girl is in the tracks, a laugh and a moment the person says “But there is nothing there” – There was nothing there.
Title: O' Lost laughing coffin
PART-1
Desire Increase from the shedding blood, a word, a momentum, and all the life’s choices would circle a woman. A Woman, who is deep in young blood, made a choice, to be cast out of heaven to live with her ancestors in hell, who is this woman? What’s behind the cloak, and behind the mask? A mask so rooted in hiding the face, that you probably would ask, but no answer would you know.
7:00 AM
– Oh that’s true isn’t it? Yes, that is the truth, but how come? Voice’s inspiring me, but none seem to let go of him? I may as well be a lucky bastard. – Said Jade, a young woman from London’s suburbs, in the outskirts of Havering, talking to herself. Didn’t slept since Yesterday, and ended up going an all Night awake for she’s a programmer, and a skilled one even, though she is just a young student at a school, with not many friends, or even a single one, she is, In the internet, one of the most famous programmers, one even might say she’s a hacker, but how come? She passes all night and all day looking for ways, looking for means, looking for tools, looking to leafs of inspiration to hack. But no matter. She had to sleep, for tomorrow it’s exam day, and even she, with no worrying over it, had reserved a time for studying, but it’s already 7:00 AM, it’s already tomorrow, how can she study? How can she, write and observe the subject? In a nearly scientific way of thinking? She couldn’t, she said she would memorize all of It in 2 hours before going to sleep, but now? Now? She couldn’t:
– Damn, it’s already 7:05 AM, I have to go – So she prepared herself, and after that, she took her cloak, and her pockets? Full of the keys, the wallet, and her phone. And went. Getting out of the house was quickly, but getting out of the neighborhood was more difficult, not because of some sloppy gangster, or some fool tying to rob her, as her neighborhood was full of such mysteries but instead, it was because the train, where she should go was not waiting, and to go to London, was a rather odd experience. All roads lead to London town, but she wasn’t in the best of times, and as such she hurried, she rans and asks for forgiveness after she collides with a merchant, and destroys half of the store (Or so it seemed) as running in the deep streets of Havering was dark and poisoned to the mind, not only by the smoke but by the snow, not only by the Crystal that it glances the eye, but also by the people there, full of distrust and sorrow, as it was poor Havering, a dark place for dark people (Or so it seemed). She stops running and says she can’t go any longer running, the feast of bits and bytes were cold but she could turn anything into a hot meal, nevertheless it was cold, and she couldn’t be waiting any longer for the train, as she was already there in 15 minutes. 15 Minutes running, who could tell she was this athletic? No one, for everyone says she was nothing but a lousy mouse of the library, a nerd-looking girl from the computers, but I guess everything Is better when motives are in higher demand. But while waiting for the train, almost a minute before she decided leaving, a strange person appears in the tracks, she’s smiling at her, and says: “Won’t be long after you join me” – She screams for help, a human being is now at stake, but everyone seems normal, and everyone stays calm, someone asks “Who are you talking about”, and she says that a girl is in the tracks, a laugh and a moment the person says “But there is nothing there” – There was nothing there.
#review #Volfortat #collaboration #Prose #The_Lost_Poet
Harry, a story.
FIRST CHAPTER
A Midnight whisper, between the long gone mountains of Everest, destroyed by the skies, which in turn where destroyed by the clash of nations, the use of atomic weapons and weeping tears of humanity, that melted even the brighest of snow. A Midnight whisper, between the green grass of France, and the Bohemian farmer. A Midnight whisper, the mountain, the grass, and all shall be consumed. ‘What?’, said Harry, waking up from a vision, perhaps dream, nonetheless strangely enough to consume his spirits, and drink the rest of his sweeping blood. Harry, a shy fellow, and possesing virtue on being right, depending on what view you thinking of it, but there is no right or wrong for him, only what mankind thinks of it, but a little more wishing, he analyzed his own character and developed himself the word of good, for is own, denying god’s view, and secretely refusing imposed laws. Imposing himself his laws. ‘What was that dream?’, he said, agnostic to anything but the Dream. His bed was upon a wooden base, next to a window, that closed his eyes with the dark mist of a new cycle of work. The room was simple, but calm, beneath a table, there was a computer, a state of the art computer of the almost 21th century, it was the year 2000, and he had a bottle of wine next to the computer, ‘I shouldn’t drink before going to bed, messes up with my sleep, and gives me strange dreams’, all he could say of the dream was “A Midnight whisper, the mountain, the grass” – this echoed through his brain, and, with an almost profetic saying, made him believed that today was going to be abnormal, although normal to him, as always.
With a weary mind, he switched on the computer and logged on to Facebook, that was plastered with photographs of his so called friends and their dream life along with countless advertisements capitalising on the insecurities of men like him. These advertisements ranged from inability and low confidence of men who cannot pick up girls at the bar or women who want to have the best looking Victoria's secret model figure keeping their fads and cravings for fast food intact. The reality was twisted and fabricated in the best way possible. This high life to people now was like water to a fish who felt the glass bowl was an ocean.
Harry, a story.
FIRST CHAPTER
A Midnight whisper, between the long gone mountains of Everest, destroyed by the skies, which in turn where destroyed by the clash of nations, the use of atomic weapons and weeping tears of humanity, that melted even the brighest of snow. A Midnight whisper, between the green grass of France, and the Bohemian farmer. A Midnight whisper, the mountain, the grass, and all shall be consumed. ‘What?’, said Harry, waking up from a vision, perhaps dream, nonetheless strangely enough to consume his spirits, and drink the rest of his sweeping blood. Harry, a shy fellow, and possesing virtue on being right, depending on what view you thinking of it, but there is no right or wrong for him, only what mankind thinks of it, but a little more wishing, he analyzed his own character and developed himself the word of good, for is own, denying god’s view, and secretely refusing imposed laws. Imposing himself his laws. ‘What was that dream?’, he said, agnostic to anything but the Dream. His bed was upon a wooden base, next to a window, that closed his eyes with the dark mist of a new cycle of work. The room was simple, but calm, beneath a table, there was a computer, a state of the art computer of the almost 21th century, it was the year 2000, and he had a bottle of wine next to the computer, ‘I shouldn’t drink before going to bed, messes up with my sleep, and gives me strange dreams’, all he could say of the dream was “A Midnight whisper, the mountain, the grass” – this echoed through his brain, and, with an almost profetic saying, made him believed that today was going to be abnormal, although normal to him, as always.
With a weary mind, he switched on the computer and logged on to Facebook, that was plastered with photographs of his so called friends and their dream life along with countless advertisements capitalising on the insecurities of men like him. These advertisements ranged from inability and low confidence of men who cannot pick up girls at the bar or women who want to have the best looking Victoria's secret model figure keeping their fads and cravings for fast food intact. The reality was twisted and fabricated in the best way possible. This high life to people now was like water to a fish who felt the glass bowl was an ocean.
#review #Volfortat #The_Lost_Poet #collaboration #Prose
Harry, a story
FIRST CHAPTER: https://t.me/WritersClub/337456
SECOND CHAPTER
By browsing through a few pages, where he had written some comments, unrealistic it may seem, and unrealistic it was, no matter of who it was, no friends of his, through what other's call friendship, a major misconception underneath our own noses. Realizing it was already 6:30 AM, he suddenly thought about the meeting at 7, as such he jumped to his feet from his cozy bed and quickly ran to the shower. Everything was more or less voice activated, an intelligence house one may presume, the best a middle-upper class salaryman could buy, and the best trojan Uncle Sam could give.
With one feet in the shoe and the other struggling to get the socks on, he rode the elevator down to his car, jumped in and drove top speed only to realise that the freeway was completely jammed up with the traffic. With nothing much to do aside from cursing himself and the tragedy under his breath, he turned on the in-car entertainment screen to watch local TV news, his eyes loomed over the headline that a middle aged investment banker had jumped to his death in front of a semi trailer with his body mangled and disfigured. To sensationalize this tragedy, the news reader inserted a comment that translated to the fact that his soul was crushed long before his body owing to the huge credit card debt that had amassed over the years. He shrugged his shoulders because such words writhed his soul and made him ask the question he always had but never knew who to ask.
Was this the life we wanted to live in the promising future? What’s the promissing future after all?
When he was still on the freeway at 7 am, he was no longer under duress of reaching his office for the meeting. He just kept driving straight on the freeway till he reached the left turn that took him to the Skyrise where his office was. He worked for a huge name but never outgrew his cubicle in the last 4 years of overworking his mind, body and spirit, never had any ambitions, and for that his death would seem just another dead salaryman, through with Life’s choices, and his own choosing. After getting a good deal of bashing from his boss who wanted him to be present for the meeting with his facts and figures, that were important to show the client that their money was not only safe with Cipher Finance, but would potentially climb the grapevine all the way to a 56 percent growth even in this market. The roulette minded west was pretty pissed by the sheer audacity and cunning of the east where they had spent three decade to milk their money only to find out that the slave was ready to be a master. Economic warfare was no longer a bookish term to be found buried deep in a book on foreign policies to safeguard national interest but rather it was an umbrella term now to denote all the arm-twisting techniques that the motherland countries were playing with the new found fatherlands. In short, the entire economic situation was a chaotic with only the superrich and super powerful government getting the better of it while the people on whose backs, their empires stood were now pushed down or under the huge debts their credit cards brought on with bare minimum credit ratings that were needed just to lease a new apartment. It was horrible but liveable, nevertheless, yes, nevertheless, the people were mad about it.
Harry, a story
FIRST CHAPTER: https://t.me/WritersClub/337456
SECOND CHAPTER
By browsing through a few pages, where he had written some comments, unrealistic it may seem, and unrealistic it was, no matter of who it was, no friends of his, through what other's call friendship, a major misconception underneath our own noses. Realizing it was already 6:30 AM, he suddenly thought about the meeting at 7, as such he jumped to his feet from his cozy bed and quickly ran to the shower. Everything was more or less voice activated, an intelligence house one may presume, the best a middle-upper class salaryman could buy, and the best trojan Uncle Sam could give.
With one feet in the shoe and the other struggling to get the socks on, he rode the elevator down to his car, jumped in and drove top speed only to realise that the freeway was completely jammed up with the traffic. With nothing much to do aside from cursing himself and the tragedy under his breath, he turned on the in-car entertainment screen to watch local TV news, his eyes loomed over the headline that a middle aged investment banker had jumped to his death in front of a semi trailer with his body mangled and disfigured. To sensationalize this tragedy, the news reader inserted a comment that translated to the fact that his soul was crushed long before his body owing to the huge credit card debt that had amassed over the years. He shrugged his shoulders because such words writhed his soul and made him ask the question he always had but never knew who to ask.
Was this the life we wanted to live in the promising future? What’s the promissing future after all?
When he was still on the freeway at 7 am, he was no longer under duress of reaching his office for the meeting. He just kept driving straight on the freeway till he reached the left turn that took him to the Skyrise where his office was. He worked for a huge name but never outgrew his cubicle in the last 4 years of overworking his mind, body and spirit, never had any ambitions, and for that his death would seem just another dead salaryman, through with Life’s choices, and his own choosing. After getting a good deal of bashing from his boss who wanted him to be present for the meeting with his facts and figures, that were important to show the client that their money was not only safe with Cipher Finance, but would potentially climb the grapevine all the way to a 56 percent growth even in this market. The roulette minded west was pretty pissed by the sheer audacity and cunning of the east where they had spent three decade to milk their money only to find out that the slave was ready to be a master. Economic warfare was no longer a bookish term to be found buried deep in a book on foreign policies to safeguard national interest but rather it was an umbrella term now to denote all the arm-twisting techniques that the motherland countries were playing with the new found fatherlands. In short, the entire economic situation was a chaotic with only the superrich and super powerful government getting the better of it while the people on whose backs, their empires stood were now pushed down or under the huge debts their credit cards brought on with bare minimum credit ratings that were needed just to lease a new apartment. It was horrible but liveable, nevertheless, yes, nevertheless, the people were mad about it.
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Volfortat in Writers [english]
#review #Volfortat #collaboration #Prose #The_Lost_Poet
Harry, a story.
FIRST CHAPTER
A Midnight whisper, between the long gone mountains of Everest, destroyed by the skies, which in turn where destroyed by the clash of nations, the use of atomic weapons…
Harry, a story.
FIRST CHAPTER
A Midnight whisper, between the long gone mountains of Everest, destroyed by the skies, which in turn where destroyed by the clash of nations, the use of atomic weapons…
I don’t bother her because I don’t come home this way more often. It was among those days when I had to run to the government offices for an approval of my project; after college, once a week. And as you may know how fast and efficient these offices work, I had almost swore myself to stop bothering them from the next week while on my way to home. But a loud music filling the atmosphere grabbed my attention. It was an old song which made me wonder. Amazing that who would play such lively classical music that loud in the era of insipid music which gives a tough fight to what's called noise; even at low volume! I noticed it was played on the way to my home. Near the speaker, a tight rope was tied strong between wooden poles and a little girl walking on it like nothing! Her small arms were holding another large stick; with the help of which she was balancing herself on the rope. Something you usually see in a circus done by professionals was what this little girl was doing. Her mother was standing still near to it with a piece of clothing spread on the ground with some notes and coins on it. Well, their clothes already spoke their story out loud but the noise of the crowd busy with their own thing seems to have suppressed it. And even though the loud speaker was a last scream to make people listen; that too was failing. It is sad that I chose to become a part of the crowd.
#review #djb #prose
Note: this is a part of the story I'm writing. Any sort of criticism is welcome.
#review #djb #prose
Note: this is a part of the story I'm writing. Any sort of criticism is welcome.
Honesty for one, behold my love.
I'll come in your dreams,
For every night that I'm gone.
Honesty for one,
Behold my
Love.
#review #noob #prose
Author's note: This might not make sense because: There's a song that I only remember by the deep voice of the singer, the melody and the vague-not-so-understood lyrics.
These are the words that match that voice and my feelings. And obviously not the exact lyrics.
I'll come in your dreams,
For every night that I'm gone.
Honesty for one,
Behold my
Love.
#review #noob #prose
Author's note: This might not make sense because: There's a song that I only remember by the deep voice of the singer, the melody and the vague-not-so-understood lyrics.
These are the words that match that voice and my feelings. And obviously not the exact lyrics.
#review #prose #Angela
UNASHAMED
My friends always laugh at me each time senior faith shouts and Chase me away, warning me never to come anywhere close to her.
They always warn me to stop listening to everything my mind tells me, else I will get into trouble, but I never listened to them.
Senior faith was a brainy personnel, she was good at everything, an exceptional being in the whole school.
One day I told my friends that I would make her my best friend, but they laughed hilariously mimicking me, well they never imagined that they would ever say a word to her, and here I am saying that I would make her my best friend.
Each time i greet her she would reply harshly cause she felt I wasn't her type neither was I in the same level with her
Not minding her attitude, I kept on greeting her lovingly, then one day she called me and said " why are you stubborn" was I really stubborn
" I like your ways"
I was extremely scared, not knowing how she will react "oh that's good, do you want to be like me" I took a deep breath before replying " yes, sure, I want to be like you" there was this sweet smile she gave, that melted my heart.
"No problem dear, I'm in ss3b, come see me later after dinning I would be waiting for you"
My missing rib has been found, I knew i wasn't complete, but now am over complete.
She isn't who people thinks she is, if only I covered myself in fear and doubt I wouldn't have gotten this opportunity, just like the woman with the issue of blood , despite her condition and the fact that she shouldn't be seen among the people she struggled hard until she touched him.
I was unashamed when I approached that senior
The woman with the issue of blood was
Unashamed cause she knew what she wanted.
UNASHAMED
My friends always laugh at me each time senior faith shouts and Chase me away, warning me never to come anywhere close to her.
They always warn me to stop listening to everything my mind tells me, else I will get into trouble, but I never listened to them.
Senior faith was a brainy personnel, she was good at everything, an exceptional being in the whole school.
One day I told my friends that I would make her my best friend, but they laughed hilariously mimicking me, well they never imagined that they would ever say a word to her, and here I am saying that I would make her my best friend.
Each time i greet her she would reply harshly cause she felt I wasn't her type neither was I in the same level with her
Not minding her attitude, I kept on greeting her lovingly, then one day she called me and said " why are you stubborn" was I really stubborn
" I like your ways"
I was extremely scared, not knowing how she will react "oh that's good, do you want to be like me" I took a deep breath before replying " yes, sure, I want to be like you" there was this sweet smile she gave, that melted my heart.
"No problem dear, I'm in ss3b, come see me later after dinning I would be waiting for you"
My missing rib has been found, I knew i wasn't complete, but now am over complete.
She isn't who people thinks she is, if only I covered myself in fear and doubt I wouldn't have gotten this opportunity, just like the woman with the issue of blood , despite her condition and the fact that she shouldn't be seen among the people she struggled hard until she touched him.
I was unashamed when I approached that senior
The woman with the issue of blood was
Unashamed cause she knew what she wanted.
I find the lost solitary star more refulgent than the easy close glint ones.
It's easy to see things for what they closely appear to be, but I crave to dig behind the skin. I crave to dance inside the rooms behind your voice.
So if you want to show me your world, show me where the lights are dimmer. Show me your twilit. Dawn is too clear not to feel.
#review #amtupu_ #prose
It's easy to see things for what they closely appear to be, but I crave to dig behind the skin. I crave to dance inside the rooms behind your voice.
So if you want to show me your world, show me where the lights are dimmer. Show me your twilit. Dawn is too clear not to feel.
#review #amtupu_ #prose
👍1
Even now I am fighting with machines. And things were going to get easier. Automation is the God that will free itself, and God only knows what will happen to the rest of us. I don’t think it will be a soft landing. The best hope is lobotomisation, and I hope I will be the first one in line...
Unless...
Do you want to fight it?
Are you nuts?
Because that will go well, won't it. The whole world collapsing on itself. The giant cluster-fuck of nuclear weapons, quantum computers, and twitter-hate. That's the dream, isn't it? We emerge from the bunkers, the smart few who distrusted everything and everyone. After years of eating tinned baked beans, we come up to the earth's sandy crust. We can start afresh. A brand new page. Let me make the first toast with our radiated water filled with rat shit. Thinking about it, it may actually happen but in reverse order.
I don't see any winners if that's the outcome at the end of all this.
It's impossible to not think about the world ending. Thinking about surviving it is worse. It disconnects from the present in all forms. I can see the appeal of already living in the imaginary future. We've done it for centuries, haven't we? The body is sinful, so there is a heaven where the soul can be free of the impurity of being. Life-deniers. Can't deal with life as it is, so something beyond our senses had to be deviously concocted in the minds of the holy men. There is no life now, there is the afterlife as the only true life worth thinking about...
But, anyway, not today, brain.
Not...
To...
Day...
Today is not the day.
Today I have convinced myself that things aren’t that bad. And even if they are, it won’t matter to me at all. Why should it? I can’t do anything about it. And who would want to? At least we can fantasise that we could own the world if it all went wrong because the chances are most of us won’t live long enough to even test that theory. By then we'll be gone, pulverised by the crushing streamlined processes of the bureaucratic unfreedom. And we bitch about it all the time too.
I mean, I do. Most of the people participating in it seem to as well. Because what’s the alternative? What else would you have done? Isn’t that the reason why we vote for some fuckers to make the decisions about what’s best for us anyway? This is as good as it gets. So, you and me… we better get over ourselves.
I am working on it.
I am working on it as I write this.
I will press the submit button again and see if God has changed their mind.
#review #poetry #prose
Unless...
Do you want to fight it?
Are you nuts?
Because that will go well, won't it. The whole world collapsing on itself. The giant cluster-fuck of nuclear weapons, quantum computers, and twitter-hate. That's the dream, isn't it? We emerge from the bunkers, the smart few who distrusted everything and everyone. After years of eating tinned baked beans, we come up to the earth's sandy crust. We can start afresh. A brand new page. Let me make the first toast with our radiated water filled with rat shit. Thinking about it, it may actually happen but in reverse order.
I don't see any winners if that's the outcome at the end of all this.
It's impossible to not think about the world ending. Thinking about surviving it is worse. It disconnects from the present in all forms. I can see the appeal of already living in the imaginary future. We've done it for centuries, haven't we? The body is sinful, so there is a heaven where the soul can be free of the impurity of being. Life-deniers. Can't deal with life as it is, so something beyond our senses had to be deviously concocted in the minds of the holy men. There is no life now, there is the afterlife as the only true life worth thinking about...
But, anyway, not today, brain.
Not...
To...
Day...
Today is not the day.
Today I have convinced myself that things aren’t that bad. And even if they are, it won’t matter to me at all. Why should it? I can’t do anything about it. And who would want to? At least we can fantasise that we could own the world if it all went wrong because the chances are most of us won’t live long enough to even test that theory. By then we'll be gone, pulverised by the crushing streamlined processes of the bureaucratic unfreedom. And we bitch about it all the time too.
I mean, I do. Most of the people participating in it seem to as well. Because what’s the alternative? What else would you have done? Isn’t that the reason why we vote for some fuckers to make the decisions about what’s best for us anyway? This is as good as it gets. So, you and me… we better get over ourselves.
I am working on it.
I am working on it as I write this.
I will press the submit button again and see if God has changed their mind.
#review #poetry #prose
*No Gold , But A Rich Heart*
Neither I've got gold nor Apple Products , my bad I couldn't afford ,
But destiny had planned something different , wants to send this scholar abroad ;
Neither I've got smart watch nor new sneakers ,
If you underestimate my power , by challenging me , trust me , I'm the game changer ;
Never got a chance to enter KFC or Starbucks ,
Still , everyday , on my door , a new glory knocks ;
Till today , I use the same pencil box , brought by me seven years back ,
But still my pen never stops , my hand powerful enough to compete with time , fastest on the poetry track ;
Never got a wireless headphone , still my ears are sharp ,
Topper of the batch , keen sense of listening , can detect any trap ;
Not having crown of royalty , still my brain working in light speed ,
Curiousity to gain knowledge forever , pen and paper for poems , is all I need ;
Maybe not a millionaire , but rich from my heart's core ,
Tranquil waves worth more than a billion , with me standing on the sea shore ...
#review
#prose
Neither I've got gold nor Apple Products , my bad I couldn't afford ,
But destiny had planned something different , wants to send this scholar abroad ;
Neither I've got smart watch nor new sneakers ,
If you underestimate my power , by challenging me , trust me , I'm the game changer ;
Never got a chance to enter KFC or Starbucks ,
Still , everyday , on my door , a new glory knocks ;
Till today , I use the same pencil box , brought by me seven years back ,
But still my pen never stops , my hand powerful enough to compete with time , fastest on the poetry track ;
Never got a wireless headphone , still my ears are sharp ,
Topper of the batch , keen sense of listening , can detect any trap ;
Not having crown of royalty , still my brain working in light speed ,
Curiousity to gain knowledge forever , pen and paper for poems , is all I need ;
Maybe not a millionaire , but rich from my heart's core ,
Tranquil waves worth more than a billion , with me standing on the sea shore ...
#review
#prose