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Literature Text
I wish that life hadn't dealt us this hand
But life didn't deal this hand
The cards were dealt by my own hand
My hand looked good at first
But my Queen was a joker
And the Ace up my sleeve fell to the ground
And all that remained was trash
I bet my fortune and had to fold
I watched as my chips were whisked away
And the casino claimed but another victim
I came as a prince
I left as a pauper
I set up the deck
I knew my hand
I had all I needed
Fortune was mine
And I was fortunate indeed
But somehow I lost it all
But life didn't deal this hand
The cards were dealt by my own hand
My hand looked good at first
But my Queen was a joker
And the Ace up my sleeve fell to the ground
And all that remained was trash
I bet my fortune and had to fold
I watched as my chips were whisked away
And the casino claimed but another victim
I came as a prince
I left as a pauper
I set up the deck
I knew my hand
I had all I needed
Fortune was mine
And I was fortunate indeed
But somehow I lost it all
Literature
The Cycle, Pt. 1
A bright orbit starts the day,
Slowly opening my eyes from The Bed,
After a night of sleep and comfort.
Too much comfort.
Because I don't leave The Bed right away
(Like I know I should)
To start the day.
Time ticks but eventually I rise,
Accepting the loss of newfound comfort with
The Fan and The Blanket and The Pillow.
So I proceed to The Shower,
Different way of feeling cool than The Bed.
And yet here, I'm warmer and accept it.
Too much acceptance.
Because I don't leave The Shower right away,
(Like I know I should)
Already cleansed for the day.
Time ticks but eventually I step out,
Accepting the loss of newfound comfort with
The Warm and
Literature
In the pretext of sleep
In the pretext of sleep, my mind wanders even though I am physically exhausted. I can feel the dull ache of my tiring body slowly cooling down and relaxing. Surely, my conscious realizes that it’s time to be resting my body. The second this thought of rest arrives, it is rudely interrupted by the overwhelming thoughts of the wandering mind. I can feel my thoughts ranging from the tiniest of incidents that happened throughout the day, to my deepest insecurities. The worst part about this entire charade is that its intensity gets more when I’m the most spent physically. I guess its just a part and parcel of being an introverted over
Literature
Sleep
Sleep's strong arms grasp me
Pulling me under its serene surface
Rippling the lake of fantasy
I emerge on the other side
Familiarity of secret desires warming me
False sense of safety securing me
Here I can adventure, take risk
Or simply relax with those that are dear
I feel feelings real life rarely offers
Such as joy, admiration, bliss,
No worries of what others think
What might harm me
What will betray me
Freeing spaces and cozy corners
Heal the mind from reality
Heal the soul from cruelty
And others wonder why
I occupy my spare time
On a mattress
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