Deep-diving into the culprits of my self-deprecation, "Discount Shakespeare" showcases all 50 of my poems, originally posted on Twitter, which I had written from my high school years to this day (whenever this gets published, I guess).
Teeming with...
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Discount Shakespeare An anthology of musings Poetry by luxsick
━━━ ❦ ━━━
To hold captive
What are hands for?
Or rather, who are we to fall under the hands of? A heart that beats justly is one well fought for, One that has lived and breathed our freedom's every rise and fall. And a heart that thrives through the treasures we once held dear To the gift of voice, is the same eternal wish to have fallen Under our hands that have held only the heaviest of words.
For it is not only their push and pull, but their wisdom, too, That is engraved in our veins— they know. They know of The voices they spoke for when they were too afraid To speak for themselves. They know of the blood That stained their spirits to death and won us the key To set our minds free, and not once did sheer terror Lock them up from showing it. They know of Every memory, every noble duty that's rightfully ours.
Alas, the hands that hold the swords are but food For empty thought now, for they have been long Replaced by hands pricked by needles— the stainless, The pristine, the ambitious, shallow waters— not a Drop of blood, not a speck of truth in sight.
