New Beginnings

No one remembers their beginning.
We only have tales told by others.
No on can begin again,
Metamorphosis is for butterflies.
We build on a beginning
We cannot remember.
There are simply corrections,
Effort to erase what we don’t want.
There are no new beginnings,
Only a life filled with scars,
Hope, love, desire, memories,
and acquired demons.
There’s only one story,
The story is you.
With only one beginning,
With only one end,
The stories are good.

B. Meza 1/2/17

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A Losers War

Time wins time after time.

It takes no prisoners,

It kills all the soldiers in the war,

Me you and your children to come.

Time is intangible, but we see it pass by.

From our first breath we start the tally,

Happy birthday, minus day one.

Knowing I’m not invincible I continue to fight,

Because the little triumphs are worth losing the war.

Time takes no prisoners; all soldiers die at war,

But death is sweet when you learn to enjoy this life.

B. Meza 12/4/17

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Hiding Tears

In a world that tells you is best to be stoic,

You learned to cry in the shower.

In a world that deems tears as weakness,

You learned to cry while is dark.

In a world that says tears solve nothing,

You became the best actor at smiling.

In a world that does not favor crying,

I enjoy walking alone in the rain.

B. Meza ©11/15/17


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Dos Palabras

Solo necesito dos palabras,

para decirte te amo.

Solo necesito dos palabras,

Para decirte te odio.

Solo necesito dos palabras,

Para decirte te extraño.

Tú solo necesitaste una palabra,

Un simple adiós te basto.

Risas, caricias, dulzura

Eso es el amor.

Gritos, llantos, rabia,

Es eso el adiós.

Dos palabras significando mil.

B. Meza 10/21/17

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When I Think of Being Mortal

The questions never end, and the answers may or may not come.
Life has no chronological order, no right time, no musts.
We are vessels with no certain destination, except one.
We are not invincible, we are not special, we are just a specie;
We are specks in time, merely emotional mortals.
And sometimes we act more stupid than we care to admit.
We were not born to shine, we were born to live and then die.
This sounds gloomy, I must say, and you must think,
But if you standstill and think about it, it is not.
I don’t have to worry about meeting anyone standards.
And I can say fuck you to the standards society dictates.
I can do some of the things I love while I’m breathing.
I can do what is best for me, as long as I don’t purposely hurt others.
I can live life as it comes, while it comes, without thinking:
Damn, how exhausting it is to live forever

B. Meza 09/02/2017

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God and the Devil

And when you ask me, 
What do you believe in? 
I’ll answer, I believe in you. 
Because you are human, 
You have goodness and have hate. 
The human kills and hurts. 
The human cares and nurtures. 
The human can easily betray, 
But the human can be faithful. 
Hungry faces dirty clothes, 
I have seen kids begging for food. 
I have seen strangers help strangers, 
And I have seen family turn away. 
I have seen friends kissing the cheek 
Of the person they secretly hate. 
I have seen people help others 
With pure hearts and no need for recognition. 
I have seen God and the Devil. 
They both live on earth.

B. Meza (C) 8/4/17

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The Reservation of Proudness

I’m not proud of the color of my skin,
I did nothing to get it, it happened by nature.
But I love my shade, my color is beautiful.
I’m not proud of my culture,
But I love some of the things from it.
I can’t be proud of my country,
I did not choose to be born there.
But I am grateful of the place where I was born.
I can’t be proud of something I didn’t built,
I can’t be proud of something I didn’t choose.
To be proud of your race, your color, your country
Is to be proud of separation based on country, color, or race.
But to love your skin, your culture, your country,
Is to acknowledge our differences,
Is to understand that we can all love who we are,
Without lessening the human value of others.
It means you can tell your neighbor,
I love you and the color of your skin, as much as I love mine.
And I love that we are different,
And perhaps, one day, we will love or respect our differences.

B. Meza ©7/4/17

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