Where demons dread to tread, Where angels quietly avoid, Poets swoosh in.
Tag: Truth
Why Poetry?
I write poetry Because I can't Bring myself to Say these words Out loud.
Losing Yourself
Losing someone does not Necessarily happen All at once. Sometimes, it happens So slowly That you hardly notice. Sometimes, that someone Is yourself.
Vulnerable
Being a poet Is being vulnerable And allowing others To be vulnerable With you.
Strong
Who protects the strong When they are busy protecting Everyone else? Maybe, no one. Maybe, that's how they grew strong.
Friends
We are friends Not for we know each other's stories, But because we know each other Like no one else does.
Unique
You are not unique Till you believe You are.
Flirtatious Eyes
Sometimes, eyes speak When lips don't. Words might be platonic While eyes convey more. A passing sighting of Mischievous sparkle Might dust speculations Meaning much more. Sometimes, eyes flirt As they want, Asking the muse Answers shied from evermore.
End of Love
The true mark Of the end of love Is not anger, Is not hate. It is when You no longer care. Love is over when You feel nothing.
Today
"One day," We say. We dream, Not knowing, If sometimes All we have Is today.
