Grid View
List View
Reposts
  • theuglyink 1w

    .

  • theuglyink 1w

    .

  • theuglyink 2w

    She will always burn
    To independence, even when
    You blow away the fire.

    She just thrives
    In pieces of her ashes.

    -theuglyink

  • theuglyink 5w

    We all ran away into the night
    Away from the skies
    Into the streets of light.

    We all ran away from night stories
    Watching our TV screens
    Bathing our childhood
    With pop culture.

    We all ran away from our dreams
    Staying up late
    To talk to those people
    Labeling them 'sleepless nights'.

    We're now all old,
    Running towards the stars
    Chasing the library that has evolved
    Into modern literature,

    We're now looking for our parents
    The ones which have grown
    To poor sight and weak bones.

    We can't get them back
    They can only reside
    In 'some past memories'

    We can then only be
    Captivated by our own reenactments.

    -theuglyink

    #captivated

    Read More

    .

  • theuglyink 5w

    There were emotions,
    That boiled outside of my inner shell,
    I couldn't run to prevent them from their escape.

    There were others that covered my outer shell,
    And cracked, while keeping me safe and sound.

    -theuglyink

  • theuglyink 6w

    Twigs that made fire
    Burnt against dry forest floors,
    Brought golden sunrise

    -theuglyink

  • theuglyink 6w

    Not sure.

    Read More

    Yes. Rain was never merciful,
    It beat down our fear,

    Of the sun's burn,
    Of some summer afternoons,
    To a delightful gloom.


    -theuglyink

  • theuglyink 6w

    Our heart is always sometimes confused while sweeping
    Through the sounds of mindful creations
    In this large eardrum, called a society.

    -theuglyink

  • theuglyink 6w

    How long do my eyes have to look
    In order to reach its dreams,

    I can't stop looking,
    The future looks so close,
    They are filled with expectations,

    The past looks so behind,
    I can't beg my thoughts to feel the unseen,

    Oh! It's so pitiful how my eyes
    Only open to see the brightness
    Of one end.

    ©theuglyink

    Read More

    .

  • theuglyink 6w

    I guess our hands
    Can never
    Not be broken
    In the fields of nature's mines
    Where we collect our own burden
    To lift somehow
    Against the skies,

    I guess everyone's hand
    Is broken from helping others,
    With each partial effort we input
    To live our life
    And somehow, someone else's
    On top this dust
    That whirls around and about
    Thin and a little dashed,

    I guess we must carry the dust
    Along with the cost of everyone's burden.


    Fatimah.