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Eirlysss

FreeWriting

I Dream

032 I dream a dream where I am in the stage, singing a song and dancing along the rhythm. Where they throw roses and shouts my name. It is a dream I wish to play. I dream a dream where I am travelling, to here and there to the ends of the world. Where I capture scenes and preserve in negatives. It is a dream I wish to capture. I dream a dream where my clothes will be worn, models will walk on the runway and I'll appear at end of the show. Where I can see stunning dresses I made. It is a dream I

E
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diedre

FreeWriting

Bring me the Goddess

I called Theia But the one who showed up was Nyx I called Euphrosyne But the one who showed up was Oizys Whom should I call? Here in the times that I'm alone I want to go back But what should I find when I returned?

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Guest

FreeWriting

poetry on love

The poem on love is a short piece that celebrates the beauty and power of love. It describes love as a force that connects us, a feeling that can make us stand tall and a bond that can never be broken. The poem goes on to describe some of the ways that love makes us feel, such as warmth, security, and joy. Overall, the poem conveys a sense of hope and optimism about the power of love to enrich our lives.

Alex O'bor

FreeWriting

"PULL THE PLUG"

My life is now owned delusion Happiness is no longer illusion If Life is a bitch- then dig me a ditch If i pull the plug now I'll free my demons They say i'll be caged in the tunnel of Mammon But, Humans used to say 'There's light at the end of a tunnel- Still, Humans used to pray 'Master, save me from the tunnel' It calls me closer It calls me near Just once and it'll be over Death whispers in my ear. (c) Alex O'bor, 2020. All rights reserved.

"PULL THE PLUG"
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Arnay

FreeWriting

Dreams of imagination

Dreams of Imagination. In the depths of night, when the world is still, and the stars above, shine with a tranquil thrill. In this peaceful moment, my mind begins to roam, through memories and dreams, that I have yet to know. A world of wonder, awaits beyond the door, of my imagination, where anything is possible and more. From soaring through the clouds, to diving in the sea, my mind takes me on journeys, that set my spirit free. And in these moments, I am filled with pure delight, as I explore

A
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Bea Krishia

FreeImage

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.

Title: Embracing My Passions
Poetry, Badminton, Books, Movies, and Music
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Ghulam Raza Almani/Badin.Pakistan

FreeImage

شام جو هي پهر

شام جو هي پهر Evening poetry in sindhi #sindhipoetry555

شام جو هي پهر
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Lisa

FreeWriting

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

I'm just one (poetry)
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Queen 👑

FreeImage

Islamic

Achi batye sab tak pohnchye plz thanku

Islamic
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Q

Mirchi

FreeImage

Tere bin season 2 Trending Pakistani drama

Tere bin season 2 Trending Pakistani drama
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M

ReVoice

FreeWriting

The Isolated Porcupine

A poem about little porcupine

The Isolated Porcupine
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R

IMaxG

FreeWriting

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

I
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kolly_writes

FreeWriting

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!

Poetry
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Kwealth Tv

FreeWriting

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.

JOURNAL OF A WHORE
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Kech

FreeWriting

LOVE IN RELATIONSHIP

it more of spoken words

K
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Moba

FreeWriting

THE THIRD WORLD POLITICIAN

Here he is, The big man. He flaunts his money, To show the masses His affluent and wealth. And the rumours spread, That the big man, Was not a businessman. "But what could he be". They wondered. Which occupation, Made you as rich as a businessman? It was not carpentry, Nor was it bricklaying, Or blacksmithing, Then suddenly we knew! The big man, Was nothing but a politician. An occupation of the privileged Who never got tired of their occupation, Who did more bad than good, Whose personal intere

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AjiriPens

FreeWriting

OH MORNING!!!

Morning, a kind of fresh start reforming what seized to exist, peace. As for me I'll say my morning my peace.

OH MORNING!!!
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thedarkeststranger

FreeWriting

Memories of the Past

The poem reflects on the joyous moments of the past, where life was simpler and people savored simple pleasures. The power of memory, music, and writing in capturing and expressing these experiences is evident in the poem's language and imagery. It's a testament to the way in which memories shape our perceptions and emotions, and how music and writing can be powerful mediums for conveying them.

Memories of the Past
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zoar

FreeWriting

Alone

The unfinished memories

Alone
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Z

Symply Raven

FreeWriting

ORIGIN

ORIGIN by Symply Raven. Appreciating African culture through poetry. Authenticity is our root

ORIGIN
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