Baskadia

Broken

A poem that describes my whole emotional state 🥺 .... like if you can relate

Strength

Strength is not the ability to lift heavy weights, Or to run a marathon without stopping. Strength is not the absence of fear, Or the ability to always win. Strength is the ability to pick yourself up, When you've been knocked down. Strength is the ability to keep going, When you want to give up. Strength is the ability to face your fears, And to overcome them. Strength is the ability to be yourself, And to not let anyone else define you. So if you're feeling weak, Remember that you are strong.

Words

Like an infectious disease at bodily opening floating inside like aromatic scent at nostrils, that is how the sound wave travels through ears processed and integrated in the brain and words manifest. Once altered cannot be retracted so they manifest. Like a virus in the system  emotions are corrupted. Leaving the permanent mark through the thoughts, doubt and worry are some of the output and proof, depending on magnitude in input reflects output. Like radiation harmful words are poisonous. To th

Failure

Failure, oh failure, you haunting friend, A bitter pill to swallow, a bitter end. You lurk in shadows, ready to pounce, And when you strike, it hurts like a thousand ounce. You bring with you sadness, you bring with you pain, You make us doubt ourselves, you make us feel insane. But maybe, just maybe, you're not so bad, Perhaps you're just a lesson we should have had. For in your wake, we often find, A newfound strength, a clearer mind. We pick ourselves up, and start anew, With a better plan, a

Kaif Saifi Wikipedia

Kaif Saifi

"Reflections of Inner Peace"

In the stillness of morn, as the sun first awakes, I find solace within, where tranquility takes. Reflections of inner peace begin to unfold, A sanctuary of serenity, like stories untold. In the depth of my soul, I find a sacred space, Where worries and struggles gently erase. A mirror of peace, reflecting inner light, I bathe in its glory, surrendering to its might. The chaos outside seems to fade away, As I immerse in this haven, day after day. Each breath a whisper, embracing my core, A gentl

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.

LOVE IN RELATIONSHIP

it more of spoken words

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

OH MORNING!!!

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

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.

Alone

The unfinished memories