Silent wars, we all wage within, Deep down, it is waging us thin, A daily routine of flight or fight, Not physical, but it can be uptight, Some days you’re fine, you’re winning with smiles, On other days you’re down, running the last mile, The silent wars we wage in our hearts, minds, and souls, A unique battle, each soul to his own.

Everyone has a story, It started the day they came to earth, Sometimes it starts with merry, Sometimes it starts with misery, Our scripts differ, same with our lives, Even those of identical twins aren’t the same, Highs and lows, sweet and sour, fast and slow, Different shades and hues, different realities, Some rewrite their scripts, some live their scripts, No matter your deal, be grateful and live.

Everyone has a story, Sometimes it’s merry, Sometimes it’s teary, It all sums up our history. Our stories make up our lives It’s all part of who we are, The good, the bad, and the grey areas, They sum up our lives, none is left out. Different races, different faces, Different tales, similar stories, Everyone is unique, humanity is the same, Our stories shouldn’t define our being.

We were not taught to love ourselves, Maybe not all of us, but most of us, Some lucky few were shown how, By acts and deeds carried out. We were mostly told to love, not ourselves, but others, Expecting them to reciprocate the gesture, But many didn’t get the “loving” education, Some are hurt, with no love to give. We go out seeking love from the world, Expecting the world to love us in return, Learning to love yourself is a skill, That we must learn, before seeking love outside.

Tick tock, says the clock, The sound of time, we have come to know, The rhythm is slow, and so is the flow, A minute is long, it’s 60 seconds, It takes 60 ticks and 360 degrees, A boring flow, So painful to watch, The passage of time, a tick a time, Slow to count, too fast to keep up with, In a twinkling of an eye, years are gone, The rhythms of time, a mystery to grasp.

We eat endlessly, We scroll mindlessly, We smoke continuously, We drink frequently, We binge on movies tirelessly, We sleep hopelessly, We spend aimlessly, We sex sporadically, Just to escape our reality.

Hate blinds, From the beauty of our diversity, From the uniqueness of our being, From the goodness of human nature, From feeling the love of the heart. Hate blinds, From the dimensions of our existence, From feeling the warmth in opposite souls, From seeing the smiles on faces that aren’t ours, From experiencing the sweetness of humanity. Hate blinds, It limits our horizons, It fills our souls with darkness, It emptys the love in our hearts, And fills it with bile and sadness.

No shame, no blame, Tell me my faults, let me learn, A diverse world, different tales, Different faces, different fates. It’s not about being flawless, It’s more about being honest, Tell your story, share your history, From your mistake, many will learn. Perfection is a myth, An illusion chased by flawed souls, Blinded by their own logs, Not seeing their faults. No shame no blame, Different souls, different throes, Some couldn’t shine their light, Nevertheless, we are all stars.

I visited the hiding place of my younger years, This time, not in the flesh, I ran back under the bed in my little room, hiding from my fears, traumas, and mistakes, Scared and anxious, breathing high, and thumping fast, It was just like when I hid from my childhood fears, This seems like a deja vu, like a movie I have been through, I am no longer that scared child, but I am still scared still.