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star 59m
it’s too late 6.17.25 (7:00 pm / 19:00)
i can still hear your voice
still in my head
you said ‘god bless you’
you held out your hands

i’m sorry for all the things i did
i can’t imagine how it must be for you

i’m sorry i left you there
i’m sorry didn’t try to help
i’m sorry it’s far too late

i’m sorry for you and all those who carry your name
pain is universal,
i’m sorry i drew borders,
i’m sorry i didn’t know

i’m sorry i left you sitting in a wheelchair
in front of the stores
i’m sorry i left you for you to leave us

today my mother said she saw you
all the way downtown
hanging with the people doing drugs
i’m sorry

because you were one more person
really not to different from me
who could have been saved
if only
if only

we were a bit kinder

i guess it’s way too late

[playing (idk why): what dreams are made of - ballad version by paolo and isabella from the lizzie mcguire movie]
you can interpret this any way you want but while writing it i guess i was thinking about a houseless person i used to see asking for money in front of a store i go to. i always walked by them and felt guilty all the time, because my family is pretty well off and we could have spared a lot for them but we never did
Bipasha Dutt Jun 6
Be kind to yourself.

But do not indulge in self-pity.

Self-pity comes from a sense of entitlement, whereas kindness comes from a sense of empathy.
In my days and nights, I seek you, Lord, with all my might.
I trust in you, and even when my trust wavers, yours never does.
I reach for you, and I never stop searching for you.
I search every cell within me for you and seek to spread your kindness.
Long ago, when my mortal mind gave in and sank beneath the waves, you carried me above them, breathing life back into tired lungs.
If you search my depths, you will find that all things beautiful and good stem from you.
When I am unable to let go, I remember the trust I have in you.
I trust you when I don’t understand how I will survive, how you will make a way for me.
I am forever your child, looking for shelter under your wings.
I am your daughter, looking to honor her king.

-Rhia Clay
A M Ryder 11h
I want to be
So kind that it
Echoes backwards
Through time and
Undoes the things
That hurt you

So kind that it
Radiates from me
And I make
Someone else
Find faith
In others again

There's not much
I can do and
I only know
So many words

But I know
I can be kind
And sometimes
I believe that
Changes the world
for Joscephine Gomez

I quietly closed the door behind me and stepped inside
Where several souls had preceded me.

    A painter stood by her easel by the south door,
    There was a poet seated at her desk.
    A Buddhist scholar stood before an open tome
    and a lyric soprano softly hummed her warm up patterns.

Just then another soul opened the door and asked,
“Who are these people and how did they get here.”

I answered, “they are all called Joscephine
    and they have come from the stars
    bearing gifts to heal us, encourage us
    and light our ways with kindness and wisdom.
This is a tribute poem to Phillippino renaissance woman, Joscephine Gomez who excels as a painter, singer, poet, buddhist scholar and spiritual guide and teacher.
Great are those who lend their light to those who have lost their own. They are miracles in human form.

-Rhia Clay
Lizzie Bevis May 28
Gentle kind soul,
I see the tears you weep,
as you sit in quiet vigil
while the world is asleep.

The world's weight has settled
in your bones tonight,
leaving you wishing for peace,
instead of a fight.

Kindness flows from you
like steady breaths, so deep;
While others dream and slumber,
your selfless mind still seeks.

I sometimes watch
as your mind creates storms,
and your eyes rain with mercy,
as you care for all.

Your heart overflows
with hopes and dreams,
while time, like a fish,
swims quickly downstream.

Silhouetted by moonlight
spilling through the window pane,
its presence is a thankful kiss
that softly speaks your name.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Sunshine May 26
Kindness is the color of a bright light
orange
Looks like the reflection of the sun setting in the ocean
The taste of a bowl of fruits eaten on the
beach
Sounds like laughter and the brisk of the wind combined
It’s scent its of tropical smoothies on a sunny
day
Feels like silky sheets on a good night’s
sleep

The Feeling of Kindness
Steve Page May 21
Where's the trust?
Where's some loyalty?

What did they do with the respect
that came with shared courage,
with the common courtesy that competed
so well with the tired and bitter?

When did the fear win?
When did suspicion succeed
in dividing us? When did we fall?
And how long can we wait?

How long will we wait
for our disquiet
to override our distrust?
To make us love again.

And what if we don't?
What if it never happens?
What if we never forget to lock the door?
What if this is as good as it gets?

But what if we do?
What if we get to try again?

We’d go for a 4 in the morning walk.
We'd pick up some warm rolls,
And I wouldn't worry about the cracks.
Watching the movie, As Good As It Gets (1997) with Helen Hunt, Jack Nicholson and Greg Kinnear.
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