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Thanks to all of those who have e-mailed me previously; I do appreciate your comments very much but have simply been absolutely snowed under with work for my Masters. This was simply a rare opportunity to allow some creative juices to flow momentarily.
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I woke up this morning feeling so despondent... recently my life has been filled only with work for my Masters. I have reached a point in my life where I feel that this effort is pointless. It is the coward's approach to life; the secure but passionless approach to life. But now I feel that the promise of money is far inferior to the things that make me happy, namely, writing average poetry, painting and drawing slightly better images, and eventually finishing my novel that I started writing a year ago. I have about 8 weeks left of this semester and I don't think I will be returning to my course work next year. Instead I'll follow the tomorrow of my dreams.
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The tomorrow of my dreams
hasn't happened yet
But to forsake the tenderness
of my passions
To forget the threads of fire,
woven deep,
Beaded by driving desire,
culminating in a seamless creation of
Unbreakable urge,
To forgo the fostered courage of more than an army
Fighting the war for lasting love,
Would be the biggest travesty of breathing life.
For I'm not done yet;
There's more to me than
the clothes that I bare outside.
These are the treasured secrets within
That I can only share with those who really see me,
and are not overwhelmed by the sight,
Of the shining false trophies I sustain...
The gain only immeasurable weight of sorrow;
A black spider of grief
binds my heart in suffocating embrace,
Hidden beneath
the depths of eyes' revelation which few
have dared share,
Most concentrating only,
All the while
on the smile held rigidly,
On my face
for the benefit of finances sake,
Over time weakening its pose
and threatening to expose
the real me.
And at this hour, they will be shocked
for the endless money chain will stop,
Releasing passion to flow
like the life-blood of a fervent gypsy,
Who has been dancing her sole
through wild-flower studded fields,
For far too long, in her mind,
the many, many foot-steps away
from her home confines.
Now, here I stand,
Poised to take
the forever more decision,
At the now unlocked door
of happiness created only within.
And I must dance on.
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