Which Shall We Choose

Fact or fantasy which path to tread A place where all the boundaries blur Fact or fantasy where dreams are fed Where the known and unknown gently stir Both have their place in this unknown zone Can we not embrace them both? As nothing is set in stone In this mystic realm of growth Together for they are one Isn’t fact a fragment of the whole? Or just Yin and Yang dancing under the sun Or is fantasy but a seed to sow? The strong arms of fact and the wings of fantasy Do magic and reality coexist? Can we find our freedom and serenity? Like lovers in a secret tryst The answers lie in a blend of the two But the choice is yours Once their unique space has come into view.

I want someone to be the Aaron to my Juliette. (Loving me despite my past or my flaws)

I want someone to be the Percy to my Annabeth. (Loving my smarts and who I am)

I want someone to be the Cardan to my Jude. (Loving me even if I have a bad family)

I want someone to be the Ron to my Hermione. (Loving me even though I am paranoid)

All I really want is just love.

Comfort.

Someone.

—

All the star can't prove how much I loved him, we Opened Our hearts, but My eyes were the only one that saw the light, your eyes Saw the dark and only The dark I ran To, But the darkness was gone I See Bright colors The Vibrant truth

Fact or Fancy? You need to decide Be yourself or Be someone of lies

Be yourself or Be someone wear a gown of pride You don’t have the love for yourself So you make the choice and hide

Are you afraid to be judged? Are you insecure of your flaws? I don’t know what you think perfect should be But its not being someone your not

Embrace what God has crafted You have the ability Your flaws are hand made You were already made perfectly

Your eyes, your smile, your hair You make other’ glance turn into a stare

You think you’re a flaw And say “God this is so unfair” But when someone else sees you You’ll become a wish for their prayers

You’re already perfect Perfectly flawed like you were designed You’re like a dream When I close my eyes you fill my mind

You don’t need to impress No makeup, no jewellery Especially no fancy dress You can put those thoughts to rest

You can put those thoughts at ease You’re as refreshing as a summer breeze You need to act like someone fancy, you’re not Don’t believe? I’ll make you see

Like the sea you cause some waves in my head Your voice is an ambience that could please You skin glimmers like the water You eyes shine with colors of a coral reef

I like you for you Not the fancy lie I don’t care what you say You’re already a perfect sight

I was haphazardly searching for something I didn’t need. A handsome distraction. Something that would capture my attention for a while and make me forget some of the mistakes I always seem to make.

I didn’t want my heart to race or my cheeks to flush. I just wanted to give my overactive brain a break. A little pupil dilation, a goofy smile and a giggle or two would have got me through.

For a while I kind of got what I wanted. Nothing too addictive. My mind could wonder in and out of fantasies. It was all good, Until you.

The way your eyes gleam with cheekiness, The jokes you crack, The tension you ease, The way your smile always finds its way into my dreams…

You’ve captured my fancy. I’m already ten miles past infatuation, that’s a fact. People can say what they want, but your perfection is anything but fiction.

Every person is hard on themself, whether it be comparison, not getting the grade, or a dislike of a personal trait or characteristic of themself.

One may feel as if they are not worthy of good things because of a mistake they have made in the past. They may believe they deserve harassment from the kids at school or the striking comment from the boss in the office. They may believe they are responsible for their partner’s lack of interest or feeling, or that the crush doesn’t like them because they are simply being themselves.

Every person feels left out, misunderstood, and unseen at least once in their lives. This is just fact. But it shouldn’t be so.

Fancy… something a whole lot of girls strive to “live up to.” Fancy… the expectation that is humanly impossible for us to maintain 24/7. Fancy… what has molded teenagers, adults, kids, into believing that they aren’t doing, trying, or being enough.

Social Media is a big escort on the world of “fancy.” Many times, it shows a person, perfect, effortlessly whizzing through their own joyride called life. This is just fancy. But it shouldn’t be so.

Our world needs a balance of some of those real situations and hard emotions, the difficult truths and times. But, these trying things make the sweet facts even better. We need more people in the world who are real and honest, but are grateful for the great opportunities and moments they’ve received to become better people. The moments that seem small: the sun shining for the first time that week, the meme that made you laugh, the text your friend sent on a bad day. The trials of the world make the good times more beautiful. This is just fact. And it should be so!

Fancy will drive you off the roof, telling you you need to work on being something perfect, like a plastic doll that makes no mistakes in functioning. Ever. But fact will help you become a better person and accept life as a gift.

She loves me She loves me not She loves her more She loves me more

She loves her more She loves me more Does she live for anything Except for the thrill

Fact or fancy You’re with me or You’re sleeping with her What is it now?

Truth or dare Is it true that you sent her pictures I dare you to tell the truth Do you actually love me

She loves me She loves me not She loves her more She loves her more

In the realms of thought, where truth and fable dance, Lies a boundary blurred, a shifting trance. Fact and ancy, intertwined an discreet, Inseparable threads in a cosmic feat.

Facts, like sturdy pillars, stand erect, Anchoring reality, dispelling any defect. Proofs and logic guide our understanding clear, A tangible tapestry, revealing all that’s near.

Fancy, on the other hand, takes its flight, Beyond the confines of reason, into the night. Imaginations wings soar high, ethereal and bright, Painting visions that shimmer in the glamorous light.

Is the line between them etched in stone? Or does it blur, like boundaries overgrown? Perception plays its role, casting a spell, As we navigate this realm where facts and fancies dwell.

In the crucible of doubt, we seek the truth’s embrace, But sometimes fancy lingers, leaving its trace. Myths and legends echo through time’s vast expanse, Intertwined with history, a captivating dance.

So let us not dismiss the realms of fancy, For in its vibrant hues, dreams find their expectancy. It sparks creativity, fuels the artist’s fire, Weaving tapestries of wonder that never expire.

Embrace the delicate balance, the harmony of both, Where facts provide the ground and fancy lifts us aloft. For in the interplay of truth and imagination, We find a richness that fuels our fascination

Black and white. This or that. My brain writes me fiction, But I take it as fact.

I’m an oracle, mind reader, And a prophet in one. To protect me from hurt, So the pain can be done.

They used to laugh, turn their shoulders, And make me sit out. So I built armor by predicting, What they’re thinking about.

Because I know what they’re thinking: I suck, I’m the worst. But it stings so much less, If I degrade myself first.

So I fortune-tell gladly, From my big crystal ball. To confirm that they’ll hate me, Though I did nothing at all.

And while it has crossed my mind, That this could potentially be, An unproductive move. A self-fulfilling prophecy.

I’ve gotten some safety, From holding up this lead shield. So it’s hard to give up, The prophetic power I wield.

I know mind reading hurts me, But I can’t stop myself yet. Because there’s still a shunned girl inside me, I ache to protect.

Fact or Fancy, a dance of the mind, Where truth and imagination intertwine. A tapestry woven with threads so fine, Unraveling mysteries, seeking what's behind.

Fact, the pillar of rationality and proof, Grounded in evidence, resolute and aloof. It stands tall, unwavering, firm in its stance, A beacon of reason, truth's sacred expanse.

Fancy, the flight of dreams and desire, A realm of wonder, where fantasies inspire. It paints vivid pictures with colors unknown, A canvas of imagination, uniquely its own.

Fact, the compass that guides our way, Leading us through the night into the day. It unveils reality, with its unwavering light, Dispelling the shadows that cloud our sight.

Fancy, the spark that ignites the soul, Fueling creativity, making us whole. It dances on whispers, in the poet's verse, Breathing life into dreams, breaking the curse.

Fact or Fancy, a delicate balance we seek, To navigate a world both humble and meek. For truth without wonder is a barren land, And dreams without grounding, a castle of sand.

So let us embrace both Fact and Fancy, For they coexist, entwined in a symphony. In this grand tapestry, they find harmony, And reveal the depths of our humanity.