Latest #micropoem Posts
- Zindagi yeh bada hi pyara shabd hai,
Yeh hasaati bhii h,
Yeh rulati bhii h,
Yeh kamina bhii banati h,
Yeh sudharti bhii h.
Zindagi ke jo part tune mere saath bitaya,
Toh mai hasna seekh gya,
Tune rulaya bhii,
Toh sambhala bhii tune.
Zindagi jo merii trese shuru hoti hai,
Zindagi jo tere pr khatam hotii hai,
Zindagi me jo tu merii aayi,
Zindagi ab terii bhii merii hogyii.
Zindagi ka jo safar tune mre saath chalaya,
Socha na tha itna aagey hum phochenge,
Pr tune saath dekar
Usko possible bnaya.
Zindagi kisi ek pr khtm nhi hotii,
Yeh toh tune bhii ache se jana,
Apni zindagi k part banne ka mauka jo tune diya,
Toh woh mrii liye opprtunity hogyii.
Aaj agr iss zindagii mei tu na mili,
Toh yeh zindagii ek mauth ki trah hojayegi,
Iss zindagi me agr saath tera na paya,
Toh yeh zindagi mei saath kisi ka na paya.
Ek seedhi ldki thi tu,
Jisko maine tedha bnaya,
Aaj mre saath rhne ke liye,
Tune kisi ko na choda sunane ko.
Ek zindagi jo mjhe mili,
Usme ek apsra banke tu hai aayi,
Jisko chodne ki soch se bhii,
Lgta h jaha chodne wale hai hum.
Shayad ek zindagii bhii kam,
Ek zindagi bhii kam hai,
Tjhe pyaar dene ke liye,
Terii jitni maohabbat kisi ko dene ke liye.🥀
Follow @soul.tales 🌹
By Harsh (@badshah_1234_)
Dedicated to- Deepanshi (@deepanshimittal1234)
DM me your Writings📝
And Get Featured with Credits.
Share with those you can relate.
Comment if Relatable.
Like, Comment, Share and Tag.❤️
#writingmotivation #micropoem #microtaleslove #poetrybyme #writers #poemsporn_ #funnystuff #relates #writersblock #satisfyingslimes #happydays #wordlove #quotesforever #quoteaday #storyland #soul2soul #wordsofig #feelinggoodtoday #innervoicewf #lovelylife #livingwall #talesfromthehood #tales_of_india #indianwriters #writersofindia #relationshipsayings #commitmentissues #problemsolvingskills #voiceoftheyouth #wordsofpower
- Some parts of my country are still affected by the latest drought. Crop yields have plummeted and water supplies have dwindled to dangerous lows.
poetry | turns of phrases
truth seeker . mixer of words
- The way we dream
And make wishes,
Of sweet kisses
And the way someone's flesh presses on ours .
Dug and imprinted with our fingerprints,
And then we misbelieve that we made the purchase .
Of someone's soul and the love in it .
And then we go by the window ,
Dunk and drunk in the disbelief,
Writing our own stories ,
Hoping that wishes come true.
Praying for a dream than a reality.
Like simple human beings.
But when you pray
and bleed ,
Do you go to the lover
Or the god!!!?
#amwriting #shakespeare #blackdiaries #typewriter
- It was 2003 when I learned I was
a hopeless romantic. Listening to
Only One by Yellowcard for the
first time in my room. On this earth
only eight years and I felt the
curse in my veins when I heard the
emotion in his voice. His crawling
on the floor, his gasping for breath,
screaming his lungs out. Nobody
told me it would be this hard.
Nobody told me it would debilitate
my growth for this long. I looked for
love in other people everlastingly
and I hadn't learned what it was like
to find the love within myself, within
my own skin. I tended to the needs
of others so often that I had missed
the times I could have truly been
patching my own wounds. Forgetting
or unknowing what was bad for me.
Using ten words when I could have
used three. Losing time associating
with what would end abruptly and
leave me with questions unanswered.
Conversations leading to nowhere,
a budding flower without the promise
of beauty. The chains unlinked due to
respect for what I already had. The
2 AM talk with the girl who thought
I hated her because I respected my
fiancee too much to talk to her.
Rejecting the advance of the girl
at the New Year's Eve party because
my girl was ten feet away. The number
of other similar situations I silently
squashed because of my own allegiance
to somebody else. With none to myself.
I'm not the same person I used to be
and for that I am happy, but I can't
help but believe there was so much
time wasted being a person that
breathed in the oxygen of others
when he should have been creating
his own oxygen to breathe. I'm done
wasting my own time. I'm done using
my energy on people who don't
deserve my effort. And, best of all,
I'm done refusing to create a life
from the poetry I create by just
existing and being exactly who I am.
I won't apologize for my poetry. Not
to them, not to you, not to me because I'm
still a hopeless romantic. I'm hopelessly,
recklessly, selfishly romantic with
the version of myself that will exist
in the future.
- 🌸💪🏾🌸 Thank you for being so brave. 🌸 💪🏾🌸
Top #micropoem Posts
- If it is love, it will stay.