Baskadia

The Storm Is Over

The poem is about the peace that comes after trying time

Give Your Black Boy A Flower

Your black boy Is a garden of stumps, his heart is rooted out of a fertile ground for you to plant a dream on his Humus skin. he Is a machine Void of human language. He understands solely, his breath on your skin and the sweet nectar of your pineapple lips. Again, he is an illustrative painting of your dad. He watches you grow Into his arms like sweet alyssums sprouting in early winter as he lays on your flower bed nurturing his lovelessness into something. And of all that he deserves... the ros

Puppet

Your beauty bewitched me, Just like a moth drawn to a flame, You pulled me and I couldn't resist And just like a puppet You made me dance to your rhythm I was a hopeless romantic A slave to your love

Cynicism

Poem: Cynicism I always look forward to a health relationship Yet, all of my efforts to to make it work become a mishap I have always wanted to have a good companion Yet, I have been entrapped by those interested in my onion Moving up and about have I searched for true love Yet, I have engaged those ripping off the good I am of I have been assured not to give up in my search for the right one Yet, I have been cheated on I believe my relationship will work well Yet, what it has brought me is hell

Shadow

Poetry

My anxiety

Some challenges lead us to anxiety but we survive

Mother's Longing

I dedicated this poem for my son, now in heaven. I want to express my feelings trough this poem.

Joyous Sunday

The bells of Sunday ring With a joy that's all their own, And the birds in the trees above Seem to join in the song. The sun is shining bright, And the air is fresh and sweet, And the sky is a cloudless blue, And the world is at its feet. The children are out to play, And the flowers are in bloom, And the world is a happy place On this joyous Sunday morning. The cares of the week are gone, And the heart is light and free, And the soul is filled with peace On this joyous Sunday.

Kaif Saifi Wikipedia

Kaif Saifi

Shipwreck: Fragmented Destiny

006 With tattered parts and pieces, they patches each holes with the hope and spoken promises. The fragments of the ship shall be connected once again, to make the cruise float on the ocean's terrain. At the dock they rested, and on the unknown journey they got pasted; hesitating whether to continue sailing, or just crumble to the world's judgement and beating. The ocean's full of unknown, the things that yet to be accepted and known. So on the shore, they anchored, deciding to stop to go furthe

Stressed Out

I sleep for there is no problem. On a field of rose, I lay my head. Basking in the ever living tranquility. Oh, how I wish, That this was true. That I had nothing sorry about. That I could just rest. But the stress is killing me. Crushing me like I am an ant, Carrying a mountain. Like I am one man, Facing the largest army. Anxious, I am anxious about the outcome, About what would happen If I do or I don't Sometimes my only wish Is to just rest. But I know that in this world, That wish is harder.

Title: Embracing My Passions Poetry, Badminton, Books, Movies, and Music

the explore of passions that light up my life and inspiration.I have discovered a world of self-expression and comforts. poetry is to express depths of my emotions, thought. And I Enjoy of playing badminton. Books enhance my vocabulary, imagination and inspiration, learning and Movies are my comforters, providing solace teach me about life, I find solace in the embrace of music.transport me to a serene sea, where I can sit on the sand and let my imagination free, comforting me.

شام جو هي پهر

شام جو هي پهر Evening poetry in sindhi #sindhipoetry555

I'm just one (poetry)

They say I'm two, but I'm just one, A mystery to unravel, yet to be undone. I stand before them, flesh and bone, But they see two, a duality unknown. They question my existence, my very being, As if two souls within me are disagreeing. But I assure them, with every breath I take, That I am one, my heart and soul at stake. They point to my contradictions, my every flaw, As if two personas within me are at war. But I tell them, with every word I speak, That I am one, my identity not weak. For I am

Islamic

Achi batye sab tak pohnchye plz thanku

Tere bin season 2 Trending Pakistani drama

The Isolated Porcupine

A poem about little porcupine

By the river side.

By the river side, A peaceful retreat Where a gentle breeze blows And the sun's heat The birds chirping and singing, The trees blowing in the wind, The grass swayed in harmony, The water trickled in a gentle din. The sound of the river soothes my soul, The scent of the grass sweet and bold The sight of the river, so clear and blue, It's beauty like nothing I ever knew. The river side, A place of solace and peace, Where I can go to find A calming release

Poetry

Hard shell, thick skin Slow pace, leave a trail Thick trail, beautiful scenery Companionship of like mind Like wise carry each other through the thick bush Of unchattered, scary, dangerous, beautiful scenery Grow skin and hard shell on the road untraveled, slow leave a trail!

JOURNAL OF A WHORE

It was on a bright weekend early afternoon. As I remained there ringing the doorbell tenderly, somebody pulled my pants. "Mom, mom, convey me." Cried a minuscule sharp voice. I really wanted no heavenly messenger to let me know what its identity was. Obviously, it was the voice of my three years of age little girl. If by some stroke of good luck she knew how chaotic it was lifting her up as she had put on a ton of weight as of late. Perhaps more than her age mates however at that point, a mother's affection wouldn't allow me to overlook the little one, regardless of whether I needed to. "Great sky," I murmured, feigned exacerbation, and scooped her up in my arms.