Marcus Hill
Bio
Words speak louder than anything on earth, Keep writing…. Keep speaking…
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Stories (78/0)
Best days
Just us, not surrounded but full from touch and laughs that seem to never fade. Control feels unnecessary when all we want is each other, while everything is in our reach for possession. The guide is the moon, as we change and follow at its mercy to remain unpredictable. Showcasing our faith sparks the world with what true love means and inspires those who've given up on this exact feeling. Not looking for connection, but uncontrollably wrapped inside its essence forcing hidden emotions to the surface. Combined efforts leading to one goal of many variations provides substance within the meaning of trust and all its forms. Justified feelings of satisfaction becomes normal when accompanied by a soulmate.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets
Unreachable
Listen up, this is not a drill but an everyday struggle for consistent peace. The ability to withstand unfair harmful behavior after countless amounts of support and patience can break anyone's will. Apologetic about the damage given, but never unwilling to move in the direction of progression. Forgiven is the unperfect child looking for salvation, but upholding little expectations that create difficulty. Tears avoid shedding when love has been held together by those unable to quit on a project so unfinished. Never justified in reason, but never to stubborn to throw themselves under the bus to relinquish the blow they may or may not have deserved. Scared to apply standards of greatness with the possibility of them being to much weight on the shoulders of those easily broken. Confidently feeling mistreated without realization of their own handling difficulty, but unmoved by the thought of being a hard task. Stubbornly rooted to the feeling of creation, as hearing what little is lacked from those that have been guided with tiresome effort can be challenging. Seemingly common ground cannot be reached when perception overtakes reasoning and truth.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets
No place
Withstanding what other can not makes you human, not special nor perfect. Watching struggle abuse mental capacity is hard to sit and watch, but we must. Relaxing while those around you battle a war of self perspectives is difficult, especially when the questions of their struggle can be answered. Afraid to let go, you slowly find yourself pushing those you wish to help out of reach. Offering a hand of assistance only matters if that hand is taken gracefully, but even then you must prepare to let go and allow damage to do its job. We are all built off mistakes and we continuously find ways to learn from them, so what happens when we repeat the same things that we were made to grow from? That idea hides in the grass of self reflection simply to make us feel comfortable not living up to what we believe we should be. How else does one minimize certain areas of lifestyle choices if faith is wrapped around the ability to always put your best foot forward. Coming up short in any area is against the walk of righteousness, but only if those subpar efforts are fueled with excuses or overlooked as minimal. We drown hoping for saving, although we only want to be saved the way we see fit. Altogether we must learn that growth is only for our benefit, even if we can not see its true essence.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets
Quiet storm
Rivals with combined feelings trying to understand their own unity is a sight to see. Fearlessly involving one another without thought of the preparation necessary to handle certain issues. Climbing the wall of frustration become tiresome when both sides refuse to leverage the other. Incapable of forfeiting personal focus for the greater good of the unit, is a unknown virtue for those stained with selfishness. Fighting is just a reason to disrupt peace simply because people tend to get bored with lasting greatness and perfection. Rifts caused by unrealistic expectations will blind the purpose of positivity and connection, which ultimately detours the path of love.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets
Chatter that no one hears
Inside each of us lays an intention to explode on every canvas we touch, but lack the bravery to do so. Constantly in battles of who we are as if we haven't lived with ourselves since birth. Knowing everything eludes all of us, so why attempt frustration with things you don't understand. Follow the gut feeling to new avenues just like an appetite drives you to eat. Give your soul rest by releasing doubt that halts your inner desire to be amazing. Struggle only when met with harsh challenges, but don't hesitate to provide your best as usual. Love what makes you unique, as the fight of life is only won once you announce you're victorious.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets
Relapse
Cuts that have no time to heal will only leave scares that remind us of the original pain. Sickness fills the body looking for alternatives to relive the soul of constant pain. Searching for new ways to handle the aggravation of past only resonates when progression becomes consistent. Justifying damage only fuels its existence while anchoring down the spirit. Unchain the feeling of old news to make room for freedom and every deep desire being held back. Don't kneel, for common ground is unnecessary when dark times become present. Continue the path of forgiveness and pure thoughts, as aiding damage becomes no more than an excuse to be unhappy.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets
Just now
The stunning moment when the obvious is obvious and still catches everyone by surprise, but why? Striving towards goals is not correlated to achieving them without giving up a piece of averageness. Everyone is special or unique so what makes any of us different? Okay, this is the part everyone has heard, but almost no one actually believes in. Doing what everyone else does is simple and plain, it takes no effort to be normal because you were born that way. Whether you believe in religion or not there is truth to the idea of consistent righteousness and living through faith. If we live to reach a status or some dream while ignoring the everyday blessings handed to us daily, was it worth it? Finding reasons to embrace the gift of living is just as important as the will to achieve dreams. The speed in which we live may not overshadow everlasting memories with those who have a shorter remaining clocks than ourselves. I burrow myself within my mothers presence simply because the wisdom and essence she provides is life's greatest treasure. Those moments we indulge in are monumental to both of our existence, but most peers find reasons to run from there foundation instead of embracing it. Cherishing unexciting elements within everyday is more important than the nights spent of unknown people giving temporary pleasure. Instead, challenge the need to grow as it may inspire the world with all the courage you exude.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets
Bottom
Lifestyle known by few, but shared by many. The type of place that modules those around difficulty with the abandonment of peace. Deprived of resources drains the fuel connected to hope leaving the will of many shattered and broken. Those flooded with opportunity struggle to evolve and succeed, as those who've never seen the eyes of achievement are expected to achieve and then blamed if they don't. Fighting while being held back makes it hard to swing effectively, as those at the bottom must jump over a bar that constantly moves in the opposite direction. Complication is only real when those at the bottom settle for lifestyles that halt the seed of progression allowing them growth. This is not the way out of struggle, but a contract for everlasting defeat. Left alone I watched life pass by the window with hopes of having a chance to bring out my own greatness, like a child being asked to walk before ever crawling. Scratching the surface is just the start to a life worth living for those who come from the bottom, only to find the space at the top fulfilling and abundant. The reality that speaks to our truth is the fact regarding success is the definition of self fulfillment. The bottom was created by man, but maintained by those many who sign contracts that bind them to defeat.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets
New fight
In a world full of cruel bitter moments our eyes tend to see only chaos instead of beauty. Frightened we are while being unsure if anyone believes we deserve life or if they even care. The absolute truth whispers, as the undeniable lies scream to cause us doubt in our own existence. Living is tricky, simply because your own self worth is a created substance based on the view you have on yourself. Finding peace in being us sounds simple, but routinely we become mentally imprisoned without hopes of change and improvement. Shifting the focus away from what we lack to what we offer is a decision of success and failure. Identity is what transforms the mind into a place of peace and love allowing guidance into interpersonal respect. How can one learn to love without loving themselves, like selling items without inventory. The passion of knowing you belong in a world that will try to break you only brings comfort to those willing to embrace life and all its challenges. Each day we must impress ourselves with our own abilities and qualities to provide us comfort within just being alive. Further acceptance from the world may never come, but we find purpose knowing we are simply in love with ourselves.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets
Fix
Give in, just take what you need and leave me whatever is left. Use me, allow me to slip away to protect the few fragile pieces I have left. Choose me, while I am eager to feel what I never knew was true or possible. Allow me, find reasons to see my potential even when there is none present. See me, as I have gone unnoticed without a hand gentle enough to feel alive and well. Control me, simply because I do not trust myself with choosing right from wrong or love from hate. Build me, either I am worth it or I am not, but regardless search for reasons that make my existence worth while. Fix me, as I am every human, not fit for being perfect and molded around mistakes while only you can show me what paradise really is.
By Marcus Hill2 years ago in Poets
