Walking to the Harbor

Walking together to the harbour he boarded the ship
Away from her now empty arms.

In her newfound solitude his words resound and echo,
An empty promise like a cheque with no funds.

She sends birds that nest in hear hair to his absent presence
That get lost like a broken compass

In her heart she keeps his promise, an empty one,
From her distant lover who told her to wait.

Walking alone to the harbour she wears the same dress
That he saw her wear last so he would recognize her.

Her feet grow roots
That attach to the ground beneath.

Many moons pass past her glistening eyes
Shattering her high hopes of a returning husband.

Smartphones

A sea of empty faces
Mesmerized as the backlit shines
Creating a wall around them,
Made with wireless bricks.

Amusing the way some choose to open themselves
Through a glass window.
How wether closer they are,
The further apart they get from each other.

Let go

Don’t cry for those untraveled paths.
Weep not for unexplored roads.
Give up your mistakes and let them go.
What’s lost isn’t always worth it’s cost.

Memories

Flashbacks,
Bits and pieces.
Incomplete fragments.
Terrifying the way a mind forgets moments.
Regardless of how nice they were.
What does a mind choose to erase?
Is it viable to create permanent memories?
Maybe with the one I love?

Push it down

You swear that it’s not your fault
you hide it all inside.
you push it all inside.
All the secrets you’ve kept to yourself.
How it hurts so deeply.
you keep running away and every time you fall back down.
But fuck it.
Are you listening?
Am I listening…?

Shadow

A shadow,
A monster.
It hunts you
It talks to you.

Sometimes beginnings aren’t so simple.
There’s a sun.
And it’ll shine upon you.
And the shadows will be gone.

Culture change

it’s always weird to realize how different culture can be between two different nations.
Apparently I come from a culture where mothers are extremely religious, devoted to family (however that’s just a typical mom quality), and most importantly they feel the need to serve others.

I was talking to my mom recently and I was a little shocked when I heard “we women are supposed to be there to serve men. That’s how we work, we marry them, we have children we raise them and we serve our husbands” .
I suppose I simply have grown too attached to this new culture in which women have actually sought equality. In which they can simply chose not to serve men and go on their own and (theoretically) be as successful as men can be.
And I was appalled when my mom asked me
“okay then, what do you expect women to be? Free? Not controlled by men? To have their own free will and have more things to worry about?”
To what I responded “yes.”
And all she said was “I don’t understand women in here…”
It’s a weird culture change that I have grown accustomed to. But that my parents are too old to understand.