Where is that Sweet, Sad Place where Elephants go to Die?

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A journey into the mythic graveyard of memories, guilt, and dreams that refuse to die.

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Where is that sweet and sad place,

perhaps lost forever in both time and space,

upon the brazen earth and under the grey sky,

where elephants go to die?

Strength and might sometimes fail,

in the face of raging fire, rain and hail

Failure exhausts the strongest of souls,

when we repeatedly fail to achieve our goals

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Where is that dark and cold womb,

devoid of all life, it’s really a tomb,

when one fails each challenge and test,

where worries finally come to rest?

Worries, which were once peacefully silent,

but now extending their tentacles, cruel and violent

My worries are not making a submissive bow,

my worries are kicking and screaming now

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Where is that vast desolation of heart,

where the sun never shines as the clouds do not part,

where all of us are destined to be, the fools and the clever, 

where dead love breathes its last and rests forever?

Memories, which were once pretty and colourful,

but now have haunting eyes, dull and dreadful

Memories are not compelling me to make a new vow,

my memories, are dead and only skeletons now

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Where is that unfathomably deep, black hole,

which silences all greed, and the dreams it once stole,

where regrets crawl and plead infernally,  

where guilt is finally dead and is buried eternally?

Guilt, once a rare acquaintance and even a stranger,

it was a horse called Diablo, without a ranger

My guilt is watching me with a frowned brow,

my guilt is a monster, a menacing presence now

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I fear their accusations, their dead, hollow stare,

the evil was afar, yet somewhere close here

I loathe their presence and hold onto my spear,

the damnation was afar, yet somewhere so near

My anguish and my fear, I scream and I mumble,

my agony and my dread, I run and I stumble

I scream and I run, I make a final try,

to reach that place where elephants go to die

A Lullaby for the Bullied (previously, the Mockers and the Mocked)

A poem for every gentle soul learning to stand against cruelty.

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Don’t you cry, little girl,

please don’t cry, you pretty doll

The world is so cruel,

and you have to bear it all

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People are harsh and unkind,

and their hearts do not feel

People are cold as fuck,

and want us all to kneel

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You are testing your wings;

you are a little bird in the nest

You are safe in your trust’s warmth,

and doing your very best

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Looking down, you can see,

and looking down, you can hear

People and their clownish smiles,

even those you choose to hold dear

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But what you cannot see,

and what you must not hear

Are the hardened hearts of stone,

and acidic insults that sear

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But people are really broken,

and have hearts blinded by hatred

People are actually merciless,

to them, their words are so sacred

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You are a marvelous butterfly,

but a butterfly, still in its cocoon

You are fluttering delicate wings,

and trying to break out too soon

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Outside, it feels so lonely,

and the night is so damn dark

The grey wolves keep on howling,

and the wild dogs frequently bark

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You must be strong, my little friend,

and you must not pay any heed

You must not lose spirit, my dear,

it is only a strong heart that you need

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The river flows and heals everything,

as the wave of time passes

And one day you will come to know,

how stupid were the masses

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Pray, hold your head high and proud,

and shrug away the dark worries

It will always be a new day tomorrow,

as life always beckons and hurries

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And you there, you hideous monsters,

the cruel bullies and the harsh mockers!

And you there, your repulsive ghouls,

hiding in the darkness, you cowardly stalkers

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‘We are weak,’ as you choose to allege?

Yes, true, but united we will always stand

‘We are meek,’ as you choose to point out?

Yes, true, but our resolve will always be grand

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Go on and mock us more if you dare,

we will survive, and we will fight

Go on and bully us more if you care,

we will sustain as stronger grows our might