Tag Archives: love

Everyone has a story

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There are so many people. They’ve so many stories. Sometimes they reflect a certain degree of discontentment, and their lips shiver and their eyes… They become wet, and then they let us explore a side of theirs no one ever could. There are so many with the tragedy of partition, there are so many mothers waiting for their son to come home, from that late night party, drooling of disgust, drunk and inebriated, and the strict fathers getting that phone call that their son didn’t make it through the accident.

There are so many lovers trying their best to help the other, the girl with that golden smile, left alone in the dark of the city, waiting to be rescued, and you see from the far away corner of the road, her smile glowing frequently. There are so many grandmothers taking care of their druggie grandchildren.

The echoes of these stories are heard thoroughly by every passerby, and these stories continue to echo, for days and days and years and centuries.

“My son, was the best son.”
“We gifted him a car. It killed him.”
“I loved him, but he left me.”
“Addicts never change.”

And they prevent us from sleeping.

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Ripping my own heart

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Please let me pierce this heart so I may never feel with it again
It’s been so much a burden and even less a friend
It drags me into situations that I truly cannot face
Though when I try to get through them I always lose my place
So let me end this now so it can be on my own terms
Then let me bury it where I may and feed it to the worms
I’ll no longer be a slave to you I’ll no longer lose my way
For I know I could be happier without you each and every day
All you do is torment with how much people truly don’t care
And to think about this brings me distress and it something I can hardly bare

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The Sad Memories

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The sad memories won’t fade away.
And why should they? The tears
bring about the person
who is missed the most?
It keeps them alive and vibrant
in one’s memory bank.
The more a tear falls, the more
they are remembered.

the Absinthe Drinker

My Hope

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My hope is someday my words are weaponized and used for good.
Poetic weaponry used to discourage hate.
Words that hit the soft places, like a boxer dissecting his opponent.
Combinations and rhythm that quickly catch your attention, but leave you defenseless.
A volley that ends with a period and there’s nothing left to say.
I want the most violent thing a person ever uses to just be words….

Strength is not destroying your enemy, but changing them inside, changing their mind.

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The Undefined Me

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I can be light, I can be dark

I can be a diamond, I can be a coal

I can be a sunflower, I can be a snowflake

I can be silk, I can be sand

I can be a fortress, I can be a ruin

What am I?

A masterpiece in the making

 

What is love?

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“What is love”? is such  perennial question. Philosophers, poets and writers , have tried to answer through out the ages, none are able to tell us lesser mortals the answer. It could be the quest of the soul has it journeys through this instrument our mortal body to find perfectness, contentment , ecstasy, euphoria, heaven, utopia, we will never know. We will keep on searching and speculating.

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