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The World Is My Oyster | A Poem by Mahima

They tell me that the world is
my oyster but I often wonder
to myself: is it really?
They ask me to spread my wings
wide and just fly, letting nothing
weigh me down; but haven’t they
seen that my wings are clipped
and their own droning voices
rest heavily on my shoulders,
pulling me down from the sky
that they say is limitless?
And don’t they see that I do not
want to get lost in an endless
expanse of the sky, where I
would find no escape from them,
and which is crowded with a
million others that they have
subtly forced into a restricted flight?
And don’t they see that all I
now want is to drown in the
peaceful serenity that the ocean
offers, where the sun rises from
and sinks into and where the
sky meets the earth?
But they never did know
how to let go, and they have me
so beat that succumbing to the
blue waters is beyond what I’m
capable of anymore and so I
let them pull my strings and
let them fly me like a kite and
let them tell me that the
world is my oyster and just
quietly wonder to myself:
is it really?


Makes Forever Shorter | A Poem by Donal Mahoney

When a bullet goes in
and doesn’t come out
you read about it
in the paper, hear
about it on TV.

A person takes a bullet
near the heart and learns
a surgeon can’t remove it.
It’s part of him forever.
Happens like a drive-by

shooting when a loved one
makes a comment no
apology can remove.
The loved one doesn’t
know there’s a problem,

doesn’t realize lightning
through the cerebellum
is by far a better option.
Doesn’t let the victim linger.
Makes forever shorter.