fact or fiction
Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about what makes a good poem and the poetry rules that were made to be broken.
Be Loyal to Your Future, Not Your Past
“The Bag I Carried” For years, I carried a bag I didn’t realize was heavy. It wasn’t leather or canvas or anything physical. It was invisible, but I felt it every day—a weight on my shoulders, a shadow over my decisions. It was full of memories, mistakes, regrets, what-ifs, and a voice that always whispered, “But that’s who you’ve always been.”
By lony banzaabout a year ago in Poets
A Wall Between Worlds
November 9, 1989. The concrete cracked, and the world shifted. The Berlin Wall—once the iron line splitting East and West—was falling. It had stood for 28 years, a symbol of ideological war between two visions of the future: capitalism in the West, promising freedom and prosperity, and socialism in the East, offering equality and solidarity.
By lony banzaabout a year ago in Poets
Born Before My Time
I was eight years old. But I knew too much. I knew how hunger felt. How gas runs out. How silence between parents sounds like shouting. I knew how to wait. How to lie "Everything's fine." I learned not to ask. Because questions broke people. And I couldn’t fix them. I saw my mother cry when she thought I slept. I heard my father whisper to the wall “What did I do wrong?” I wanted to fix it. But I was just a child. Still, I grew up. Faster than others. While they played, I prayed. For peace. For food. For light not to go out. I sold plastic bottles. Collected cold coins. Watched people look away. I understood. I looked away too. At school they laughed. At my shoes. My silence. But I kept going. Because quitting was expensive. And I couldn’t afford it. One day, a teacher asked, “What do you want to be?” I said “Safe.” She smiled. Thought it was a joke. But I wasn’t laughing. Years passed. Wrinkles grew before dreams. But I’m still here. Not rich. Not loud. But standing. Still trying. Still remembering How life didn’t wait. How I was born before my time.
By Hazrat Usman Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
