Marcus Hill
Bio
Words speak louder than anything on earth, Keep writing…. Keep speaking…
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Stories (78/0)
Sinners Remorse
Hiding shame in corners of justification only proves we understand our wrong doings. The ability to move and misplace guilt to make the soul less empty just shows how aware we've always been. Creating standards with the expectation everyone else would abide by but never having intentions of meeting them ourselves showcases our cowardliness. For years the truth was buried inside societal lies told to young men to make their mistakes easier to coupe with. A man who willingly speaks and operates with intentions of unloyalty isn't a man at all, but rather a young boy scared of commitment. For too long the marathon of accountability was never truly complete, so the hurt, disrespect and damage that was spread to each person we encounter is dismissed to make our conscious comfortable. Growth from boy to man is a true process of admission and the only way to sustain that transformation is to conduct yourself within truth, which feels abnormal to a species foreign to vulnerability.
By Marcus Hill9 months ago in Poets
The Understanding
Unpolished with scars that still bleed from each cut sustained years in advance. Selfish desire to become special without the community of faith and family begins to deplete the soul instead of filling it. Revolving in a circle that eventually traps growth from the surface. Unbreakable chains remain for those unequipped to make change the result of lessons. While realizing self-sabotaging your success only proves your belief in fear over faith. Past damage may steer the future if ignored, unless its unburied and cut from the root. Truly staying intact while feeling broken is how our foundation is tested, but the experience ultimately outweighs the outcome. Begin to excuse your excuses and detach then from now so you may remain present within the path of progression.
By Marcus Hill10 months ago in Poets
Where the power resides
The significance of unity is tarnished with the characteristic of selfishness and self-indulgence. Moments that revolve around those who we truly enjoy, and love will always triumph over our times alone, but doesn't tarnish its value. When days come to an end, we mourn our disconnection from this world full of family and friends, but too often we find ourselves avoiding the bond of others. All groups may not be made for us, but we must live amongst one another with intentions of passing along positivity and good will.
By Marcus Hill10 months ago in Poets
Patiently Stuck
Taking a step forward is seemingly more effort than backwards, so the direction of life has been turned around in correspondence. Watching the light of others eventually begins to make you a pedestrian within your own life. While the virtue of patience is to seek without destroying confidence from the lack of desired results. Remembrance of gravity helps ground those that seem to hover above us without foolishly becoming envious. Instead, we must root the essence of success within the feeling of our own personal happiness. Recognizing what true satisfaction is may take time, but traveling a path not designed for you only leaves the soul astray.
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets
Princess Melayna
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Most people believed that the clouds began to turn purple once the towns beloved princess was born. In a regular town full of regular people lived a girl everyone wished to know. Her name was Melayna or "the purple sky princess", a true beauty to the eye with a personality of gold. Her freckled face and bright brown eyes made her a sight to see and the talk of the town. Sadly, like most stories everything for this princess isn’t all that great and the purple sky isn't all that special. While she’s adorned by many, she’s also known by none which makes her the most famous lonely person in town. Melayna is like a beautiful painting in an art gallery just something to behold, but never truly understood. Everywhere she goes she is seen but not heard and a piece of her heart turns cold. One day at school Melayna is approached by a boy she doesn’t recognize, but still, she prepares for her usual list of compliments. The boy begins to speak and instantly Melayna’s facial expression changes in an unfamiliar way. Hearing something outside the norm is unrealistic to the one showered with praise based on surface appearance. The boy had seen Melayna at the library where she secretly makes paintings, but on this particular day she left one behind. After picking up the painting to return it the boy notices Melayna alone in the hallway and seizes the opportunity to return her painting. Once he approaches her and proceeds to return the left behind painting, he tells her how much talent and vision she must have. Amazed by the boys' uncommon words, Melayna is shockingly quiet while her eyes speak as loud as ever before. The unfamiliar facial expression makes the boy nervous, so he hands the painting to Melayna and walks off. The feeling of finally being seen is a rush she’s never experienced which caused her confusion. Frustrated by her first encounter with genuineness she spends the rest of week searching for the boy. After a week she thinks maybe illness has kept him away. After two weeks she starts thinking maybe he changed schools. After three weeks she blames herself for scaring him off and that he must be hiding from her. After a month she begins doubting if the boy was ever even real or if she made it all up out of desperation. With summer approaching Melayna is on a search of who she is and when everything seems hopeless, she goes to the library to paint and feel whole again. While she is painting and feeling seen as she once did, she gets a clear image of the boy she had met that day in school. The painting becomes a portrait as she tries her best to make a perfect replica of the first pair of eyes she ever felt seen by. When painting she starts to tear up as she comes to terms with the fact that she may never see the boys interested eyes ever again. Sadden by her reality she glances at her work noticing the perfection of her painting. Realizing that she has done such an amazing job, she has an idea of hanging the painting in town with hopes of getting the attention of the boy or someone that knows him. The biggest problem with her idea is that Melayna has never shown her paintings to anyone before and now she must if she wants any chance at finding the boy who finally saw her.
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Fiction
The Closed Door
Speech caught in the chest without room to escape, causing tears to flood the soul. Suffering from smiles that mask pain with fear of expression being an excuse. Sore bodies after sleepless nights fighting voices of doubt that force hesitation of harmless truth. Shackled to past experiences which creates difficulty just simply walking forward with a head held high. The rhythm of life disrupted by buried realities that hide in dark corners of the true self. Eventually running to a façade displayed to the outside world to avoid the internal help needed to prevail ideally as oneself. Tears never cried only build an ocean to drown in, but just enough to gasp for air while struggling to keep the head above water. Fear of not being understood is a false reality to cover for self-insecurity instead of finding outlets that create effortless freedom.
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets
Hidden Danger
Who's next? As we pretend our communities grow with strength, we often find ourselves mourning another loss of someone's beloved family or friend. The wind travels wickedness across all types of terrains with the ability to cause heartache unimagined. More than ever tears wet pillows that carry weight from souls gone to soon while the storm of devastation continues growing larger. Fear looms greater than ever intimidating the feeling of comfort and safety, although the danger may reside within the home of anyone's family or friend. If ignored, we will find out the true power of chaos and only left wondering how everything turned to ruin.
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets
Lonely on earth
Surrounded yet alone, with nothing to grasp as your own while being trapped in the prison of abandonment. Why justify the unjustifiable? Rationalizing the unexplainable to understand a world without rules. Peace lives within everything but can be the hardest thing to find because its essence resides in perspective. Life allows us to fail or grow in all situations although the difficulty of our lessons tend to overwhelm the message. Substance dies wherever confidence is lacked, not rooted within the experienced learned. The ability to control results is only relevant when each empty space that roams your conscious is filled with certainty and ambition.
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets
Silent mind
Deep breaths, eyes closed with a smirk that hopes to become a smile. The battle of continuous growth and content self-identity struggles to coexist within each of us. Searching through a soul never becomes easy but is always worthwhile if the duration connects to irreplaceable understanding. Furthering the passion for nullifying doubt results in self security and allows the uprising of peace. Justify every bruise as an opportunity to grow through experience and keep hope within arm's reach to strengthen the link of true faith.
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets
I am Mom
New eyes open every day, but none like those created by you. Packed of unforgettable feelings and love wrapped in a blanket with the essence of god's holy presence. How special you are to be mine and me yours, as my soul resides within you forever and always. Undying joy that whispers "everything will be okay" even when my lips are too far to utter the words. Nonstop protection of your existence will always be my priority even when the dangers of life approach, my arms remain a place of safety and peace. Finding excuses to worry about you won't exist as I will never run short of reasons to support and love you regardless of where life brings you. Ultimately you are my heart and no matter what comes after you that feeling will never waiver, while every waking moment only makes our bond stronger. As I age and my body deteriorates my only wish will be to have spent more time with you. From this moment on I am changed forever and through faith and the community of love, you will carry the torch with the remains of my love for you and the ashes of my existence. From the instant of your first breathe I knew nothing ever really matter until you, Forever and always; I am mom.
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets
Stable withdrawals
Dependency built from repetition of harmful behaviors will stain any mind shattering the need of self-reliance. Slowly losing the muscle to endure responsibility without eyes that search for assistance. The shadow of denial only looms larger after each attempt of refusing truth. A great warrior is built off the structure from one's own battles and challenges overcame with consistent belief in themselves. How can one expect to grow if when met with difficulty they look for galvanizing hands to uplift weight off their shoulders. Treating lessons like burdens turns gold to coal, as just getting through obstacles will never result in learning to navigate them properly. Repeatedly running into the same issues does not lead to breakthroughs, instead it introduces the fatigue of life which ultimately guides complacency to the soul. Dig into unconquered soil rooted within your heart to unlock the hunger for wisdom to expand the resource of belief.
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets
Hidden Strength
Stopping short of excellence sounds unrealistic when the power you possess is only limited by the idea you have of yourself. Searching for core values within our own vision is a challenge most people fail the first time around but becomes routine from trial and error for growth to surface. Extend the hand of understanding in ways that influence growth within areas that make you truly uncomfortable to ensure the presence of greatness. Properly balancing the struggles of life with the enjoyment of moments is tricky, but finding satisfaction never comes without obstacles. The journey is more beautiful than ever when it has relentlessly been fought for, showcasing your hidden strength.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets