Quiet

The incessant screams drown out my thoughts as I try to complete the next sentence of my novel. I try to keep my calm but it is hard to do so in a household in which nobody is capable of speaking in softer tones. From irritant househelps to the kids who are on a holiday break, I cannot find peace and quiet to complete my projects. I have tried to look for a setting in which I will be able to aptly concentrate on the task at hand. I could name a few places in which I would be more than capable of doing my work without the frivolity of a younger sibling to impede it but such places are hard to reach and I often find my creativity slipping while in these places. I am a contradiction. I desire calm for the writing...

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We live in cities

We live in cities with garbage piled high like mountains upon which homeless people sit like monarchs in their own world. We live in cities where bees attacking protesters are seen as witchcraft doled out by the opposition. We drool over cars that accommodate four despite their size and look down upon the Probox that looks like a shoebox but carries an exodus. We live in cities . We live in cities where help comes from the most unexpected of places and dressed in rags. We live in cities where plastic bags are red flags but plastic bottles choke rivers. We live in cities with beautiful women who refuse to be fooled by the flaccid tools of sleazy men because they know they are worth more than one night stands an...

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Responsibility

Oftentimes, I am irresponsible because I am young and there remain more chronicles of my life to be sung. I act like a child which is not pleasing, hoping that my youth is not just a passing phase. There are games that I play that raise eyebrows and sneers or words that I say that don't belong with my peers. I try to break free from this puerile mold, grow up, get out,grow old. I dance in the twilight of my youth I run from the sun of adulthood I cling to the past though it will never last, I wish things were simpler right now. Responsibility is my Damocles sword, raised over my head by a silver cord. Someday it will fall,fall,fall. Someday it will fall.

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