Dilemmas! Necessity of evolution.

Now you see child, why dilemmas are necessary. 

Why they are required for the growth of humanity. 

They give humans a chance! To pick among the two. 

Former or the latter, which truth is true.
Once there was a child, 

To be a grown up he cried, 

His dilemma was simple,

He grew up and regretted his life. 
Once was a solider,

Hasty on the border,

He had to choose between brother or border. 

He killed the former and chose the latter. 
Once was a man, kind and gentle, 

He was the priest of the highest temple, 

He had to choose between purity and virtue. 

He fed the child and let the stone die of hunger. 
Once was a king, of a realm unknown, 

The plague had his kingdom blown, 

He had to choose desertion and death, 

He left the kingdom to rot, and long he was gone. 
The tales are many, the truth are few, 

Truth is the morning, lies are the dew,

Now you have the chance, to choose between the two. 

Former the or latter? Which one is true?

Dilemma

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Pretender. The dumb-charade.

Paradigms of periods preconceive perhaps,

Regardless rejoining, rejecting rejoice, 

Eliminating elements egocentric to every-

Time, to tell the tale to the treachery’s teacher too. 

Engaged eloping from eccentric end. 

Neither nonsense nor nuance, nor 

Denouncing deeds, destroying democracy.

Egging the eyes of enemies equally energized. 

Readily red redemption; reeking of rendered rendezvous. 

Daily prompt.
Pretend

Idiotic child. 

Where did those days went where love was a cookie and fear was a monster.

Where did that time went, homework was easy and naps were funny.

Where one pocket in pants meant we were gonna be rich. 

It didn’t matter if it was dollar or dime. 

Maybe the sun won’t shine again and maybe I won’t be so fine.
Life when was not a puzzle but a pizza with cheese. 

When it was not a debate who is a friend and who is an enemy. 

When games were not so complicated, 

When politics was just a subject. 

Now we rely on the game of politics and have ourselves saved from fine.

Maybe the sun won’t shine again and maybe I won’t be fine. 
Oh it was easy how simple the life was, 

A few chores now and a chores then and that was enough. 

Mom and dad were always there they weren’t sleeping in ground. 

They were there to hold my hand and spin the things around.

Now they smile, now they dance, only in pictures and films. 

Now they won’t come to save my ass from this paradigm. 

Well maybe the world is not cold and maybe I am not ready to fold. 

But the Sun won’t shine and I won’t be fine and life’s gonna be a bitch. 

Teachers, People with many roles.

As we were kids, reckless and free,

We met a clan called teachers,

We were stunned as we looked at them,

We mistook them for preachers.

They held our hands when god wrote our Destiny,

They guided our paths away from blasphemy,

They called us their owns without hesitation,

And they walked with us in the adverse situations,

As we were pots of mud and water,

They crafted us as sons and as daughters,

They became the water when our knowledge ran dry,

They lent us wings to help us fly,

They held the sword to craft our characters,

They became supports to hold our structure,

For us saplings, that the world discarded,

They became gardeners and didn’t leave us unguarded.

This is for those who didn’t ask for returns,

Those who protected us from the futuristic burns,

This for those who evolved us as creatures,

As we bow down before our beloved Teachers.