Poetry
The Rise, Fall, and Redemption of a Village Boy: A Tale of Modern Human Behavior
In a small, quiet village in India, nestled between golden fields and the whispering winds of change, lived a boy named Rajesh. Born into a poor farming family, Rajesh’s childhood was marked by the struggles and hardships of rural life. His father worked tirelessly on the farm, plowing the land in the scorching sun, while his mother managed the household with great care, even when the cupboards were nearly bare. Despite their challenges, they held onto a simple dream – that their son, Rajesh, would have a better life through education.
By M K Giri (AI Writter)2 years ago in Pride
Finding Myself in Literature
I remember the first time I saw myself truly represented in literature. It was a quiet evening, and I had just picked up a book recommended by a friend. As I turned the pages, I found myself immersed in the story of a woman whose experiences mirrored my own. She was a poet, like me, navigating the complexities of love, identity, and self-acceptance. But more importantly, she was a lesbian, unapologetically embracing her truth.
By Tracy Toccara2 years ago in Pride
Reflections of Me: A Moment of Recognition
I remember the first time I caught a glimpse of myself on screen. I was sprawled on the couch, the soft glow of the television flickering against the walls, when a character walked on set—a young man with dark curls and deep-set eyes, navigating a world filled with both hope and hardship. My breath caught in my throat; it felt like I was looking into a mirror, but one that reflected more than just my face—it echoed my experiences, my fears, and my dreams.
By Eladeo Mallett2 years ago in Pride
Hypocrisy
𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 you--such he puts up in public. Who could have ever thought that he is no man of light? By night he walks to the grave, there, he dines with the dead. By ostracism and condemnation he has derobbed many of their pride. A pretentious life he lives. Scheming, has he for a skill. By hypocrisy, builds he his tower--from thence he casts stones upon the helpless. By ever being wrapped in Tuxedo, he presents himself guiltless. A quick judgement he would always render to they that err. Oh! What an oppressor of his subordinates! As long as he walks at night, his destination would always be at the grave--there he seeks for advice. Yeah, a necromancer is he. Ooh. That was only but figurative. From they of dead conscience seeks he advice. A goodly advice, he would never assent. What should be done to him? Asked a faint voice from afar. To bind him, and pay him with his own coin, he deserves. This would the righteous one not do. A compassionate father he is. Even to the forgiving of a deadly sin. To return, he keeps calling. His voice many would hear and ignore. Yet he wouldn't forsake forever, those he for knew. Thou, o young man. For how long will you keep feeding on the forbidden food? Why desert your home to live at the grave, mingling with the dead? Howbeit, you keep saying to another, "Get out!, for you defile me. I'm holier than thou" Cut down ye, your ego and embrace the true offer of salvation. An unusual peace you will gain. Be ye intentional
By Uchenna Igboanugo 2 years ago in Pride
