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typebox
87 Followers
118 Following
Thin Air
If the pen is mightier than the sword, then what is mightier than the pen? || coded to a fault || art || writing || deep thinker || sports || cybersecurity
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@typebox
0
about 10 hours ago
hivenaija
CAN'T REMEMBER WHEN LIFE WAS FAIR.
You want to hear a bitter truth? This Life ain't fair one bit . At some point, you've got to wake up, accept that fact, and stop obsessing over what
@typebox
0
2 days ago
Blockchain Poets
FEELINGS SITTING ON THE FENCE
You change your mind like a girl changes clothes Today you're hot Tomorrow you're cold You're never in one place Where you're safe is on the fence
@typebox
0
2 days ago
Hive Learners
THE ROYALTY MINDSET
I don't think anyone came into this world a beggar. In one way or the other we were born a king in our own rights. A fearless child who forgives his pa
@typebox
0
3 days ago
Proof of Brain
Easy Does It .
Sometimes you're unsatisfied with your life, while many people in this world are dreaming of living your life. A child on a farm sees a plane fly far
@typebox
0
5 days ago
Blockchain Poets
A FATHER FIGURE STANDING TALL
They might not always see you.. The sleepless nights, The early mornings The quiet prayers. The bills paid with more faith than cash But heaven sees! Go
@typebox
0
6 days ago
Actifit
WHAT COULD BE WRONG ?!
I feel so sad writing about the demise of thr
@typebox
0
8 days ago
Blockchain Poets
A MILLION DREAMS
As I close my eyes All I can see Is a world that's waiting up for me A world I can call my own Through the dark, through the door Through where no one
@typebox
0
9 days ago
Freewriters
LOVE IS NEVER ENOUGH
Your spouse is the one who'll sit beside you when your parents die. Who'll hold your hand through childbirth. Who might have to bathe you if you're eve
@typebox
0
10 days ago
Proof of Brain
LETTER TO MY UNBORN SON
Dear Son, By the time you're reading this I want you to know that, at 18 the lass you've got all over your mind has choices. While at 18, you yours
@typebox
0
11 days ago
Blockchain Poets
FADING EXISTENCE
There is a quiet fear that no one talks about. The fear of becoming nothing not in a grand, tragic way but in the slow, invisible erosion of meaning It
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