“Gum Wall”

 

There was a time when laziness had its own quiet art,

When, after the flavor faded, gum found walls to depart.

Day by day the surface filled with colors, random and bright,

By morning, hands would clean it all—restoring blank to white.

This ritual carried on, unchanged in careless flow,

While those who cleaned grew weary, yet had no choice but go on so.

And slowly, curious eyes began to see a different view,

What once was idle habit, felt like art to some who knew.

What started as neglect became a spectacle to see,

Now people pose for pictures there, in strange admiration’s glee.

Even today, if the city wipes the canvas clean once more,

By dusk, the wall is colored back—just like it was before.

Now known as the “Gum Wall,” a place of quirky fame,

Who knew that simple laziness would build such a name.

~ Dawn

Keep living—until the race is run

 

What a fierce, unyielding life this is—each breath demands its due,

To live at all, we labor twice; there’s no easy passing through.

Be it human or humble creature, the truth remains the same,

Every breath is earned with effort, every step a quiet flame.

Here, each soul must bear its burden, none can shift the weight away,

On this road, we walk alone, carving strength from day to day.

Life spares no one its trials; it plays no gentle part,

Even breaths feel rented here, taxed upon the heart.

Only through the heat of striving comes a moment’s fragile peace,

Life’s a test we keep on taking, with no promise of release.

I too wander in this journey, striving hard beneath the sun,

For to live is to keep living—until the race is run.

~ Dawn

AI in our hands...

In circuits of thought and rivers of code,

A new kind of intelligence quietly flowed.

Born not of breath, nor heartbeat’s art,

But shaped by the brilliance of the human heart.

From ChatGPT that weaves words into light,

To DALL·E painting dreams in colors bright,

From GitHub Copilot whispering code in a developer’s ear,

To Midjourney crafting visions surreal and clear—

These tools are echoes of minds that dare,

To build, to imagine, to deeply care.

Algorithms dance where ideas begin,

A partnership forms—of soul and silicon.

Yet behind each line, each spark, each start,

Lies a human dream, a restless heart.

For AI may learn, evolve, and grow,

But it mirrors the truths that we bestow.

In hospitals, it heals; in classrooms, it guides,

In stories, it listens; in data, it hides.

A quiet companion in a world so fast,

Bridging the future with echoes of the past.

But let us remember, as we rise and create,

We are the keepers of balance and fate.

For technology shines its brightest hue,

When it walks hand in hand with the human in you.

Not man versus machine, nor a battle to be,

But a symphony played in shared harmony.

Where wisdom meets wonder, and logic meets art—

AI in our hands, but humanity in our heart.

~ Dawn 

Earth—adorned in beauty

 

Four voyagers sailed into the silent skies,

Chasing my moon with wonder in their eyes.

But from the vastness, what they chose to share,

Was Earth—adorned in beauty beyond compare.

A canvas of blue with whispers of green,

The most breathtaking sight they had ever seen.

My moon is dear, with its silver glow,

Yet carries scars that quietly show.

But Earth—oh Earth—so vibrant, so alive,

A living poem where colors thrive.

Enchanting, serene, a soulful sight,

Holding the universe in gentle light.

I wonder if beings from distant spheres,

Gaze at this world with the same reverence I hold dear.

The way my heart belongs to the moon above,

Perhaps they too are bound by Earth in love.

For love like this knows no boundary or place,

It travels through time, through infinite space.

Some fall for the moon, soft and afar,

Some for the Earth—the brightest star.

~ Dawn

Where Are These Roads Leading Us?

Roads—

everywhere.

Here. There. Everywhere.

Some rise above the earth,

some sink below it,

stretching upward—

as if trying to touch the sky.

Flyovers climb higher and higher,

and we rush across them—

faster than ever before.

But where are we going?

What are we crossing over—

distance,

or meaning?

These empty roads—

what destination do they truly lead to?

Because tomorrow…

they may not even exist.

One blast—

and everything we built

turns to dust.

All that effort,

all that creation—

reduced to silence.

And the truth is—

it is not nature.

It is us.

Humans,

destroying what we once dreamed into being.

So tell me—

why build at all,

if we are only preparing

to erase it?

Why climb so high,

if we are ready

to fall back

into the life

of our most primitive past?

What are we becoming?

~ Dawn

It Feels Right

 

To be with myself, to spend time within—it feels right,

To sit with my thoughts and quietly listen—it feels right.

Be it a place unknown or one I’ve always known,

Among strangers too, to simply exist—it feels right.

Even when hatred and bitterness fill every space,

To guard a little love in the heart—it feels right.

When people seek friendship in lifeless figures alone,

To step away from such hollow bonds—it feels right.

What strange times we live in, what silence surrounds truth,

To speak what is real, even if it hurts—it feels right.

If kindness, sincerity, and love still survive somewhere,

To hold onto them with all I have—it feels right.

Why is it now, more than ever before,

That quiet, lifeless company comforts me—it feels right?

~ Dawn

Waiting for Five

 

The streets whisper all day long,

Echoes keeping silent watch,

As the house slowly empties—

Everyone gone,

Chasing their daily worlds.

And I wait.

I wait for footsteps,

For familiar sounds,

For the door that will open

Just for me.

Strangers pass by—

Even other dogs,

Glancing my way

As if to tease,

As if they know

I’m still here… waiting.

But I am patient—

Or at least, I try to be.

Because I know,

My time will come.

When the evening softens,

And the clock nears five,

A leash will find its way to me—

And I will be free,

If only for a while.

So I count the moments—

Quietly, eagerly—

When will it be five?

When will they come for me?

~ Dawn