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Pay Day
I walk along the road on a day so drearywith but one, simple queryIt's my check, you see, tis all I needto sate this void of greedso please do me this favorfor to help my heart quaverso I might end my queryand return to the road on a day so dreary
Flowers
Gardens are so beautifulColors and scents so bountifulSome are roses, some are pansiesSome daisies, and some poppies
Some are new, some are oldSome bright, and some dulledThe all have the same goalto eat, breathe, and to pay their toll
We could learn a thing or two from flowersand stop fighting and wasting the hoursJust sit back and love the sunshinejust stop and unwindWe need not scream and hollerjust drink and sit so much taller
Gardens are so beautifulColors and scents so bountifulNo two flowers are the sameAnd none of them search for fame
The Journey
To begin I walked along a paved roadFlat, east, and with nothing owed
Then the path grew broken and wornAnd cuts and calluses my feet adorn
Each step, every mileFeels as though I'm marching single fileOn a ruddy road with broken peopleMake their way towards becoming old and feeble
Until finally I stray from the pathand at last I do the mathCease your march and stop for a whileThe world can wait for you to take your mile
Roses so sweet and prettyNeed not run towards a fate so grittyBut I am no roseAnd again my story goesalong an awful, terrible roadUntil six feet under is my abode
Trust Is a Fragile Thing
Trust is a bond like silken threadYou cannot cut it or else it will be deadEven if you have a wall of trust made from glassA hammer or even a fist will shatter it real fast
Do not despair for all things worth having need a little careYour flimsy build is not unjust or unfairA shattered wall can always be rebuiltIf you are unhindered by guilt
But rebuilding is so much harder than polishingI swear this I'm not embellishingFor a net of silken thread needs to be made anewIf a hole is cut straight from you
Too Long
My broken bones lieBeneath your solid bootA silent teardrop IAm cut at the root
A hurled stoneArchaic fearsSlice me to the boneAnd bring me to tears
Sew their lips shutWith a needle made from bloodTo them their freedom is cutThey won't hear my body thud
Candles circled aroundSilent tears fallTo hit the spot on the groundWhere they lay us all
The needle stitchesTheir lips too lateToo much blood richesWere spilled on this fate
About the Creator
Thorne Belladonna
Hello. I'm transgender MtF and I've loved writing since I was in middle school. I mostly write about depression, but sometimes a piece about transition will sneak into my work.
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Stand Up
Was it fated for us to be mated? Then why are we hated? Every time they speak I feel suffocated, but that can't be related. So I'm medicated, sedated; my affliction is carefully calibrated and overrated. But in the end the only solution is for me to be decapitated, cremated, and my soul elevated. Because I can never be elated, not when everything is so escalated, and people like me are decimated, eliminated, and eradicated. How can this life be appreciated when we're all subjugated, regulated, and agitated? The rich are venerated, even when our bodies become dilapidated, outdated, and mutilated. Our lives are negotiated and delegated, and we're all so captivated that we become manipulated.The endless hunger is never going to be sated.A long time ago I died. I want to choke on cyanide, commit suicide, so it can't be denied that they chide, lied, and spread their pesticide.I tried, but I cannot confide for worry of a remark so snide. Your ears are wide, but my heart has been petrified. Death and war to be glorified, not to hide the side of those who died. The tide of the husks who were lost cannot be rectified. So be my guide, take me on a ride to find those allied who will abide by the laws that have been nullified. A gruesome test that we will override to be certified for freedom to be never again denied.
By Thorne Belladonna5 years ago in Poets
Capturing Magic
In the world of photography, timing is the key to everything. While skilled compositions and technical proficiency are undoubtedly crucial, the perfect lighting can create the perfect photo. Nowadays, we can determine any light ourselves and are no longer dependent on any natural light source, thanks to the developed technology. We can turn every day into a night by using the right filters. And we can illuminate every night to be seen as a day. A typical process, especially in the film industry.
By Krishan Mubashar7 days ago in Photography
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