#first #poem

If You don’t Love Me, No Problem, Love My Poems

 If you don’t love me, it’s tolerable,

 But love my poems oh beautiful!

 Because they praise you from the heart,

 Believe me, like babies they are innocent.

 

 My poems are what you are,

 As an image before a mirror,

 I can’t ever separate between the two,

 They let me feel you wherever you go.

 

If you love my poems, I’ll feel blessed,

 If you don’t then the words will be extremely sad.

 

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Hey There, Stranger

Folder: 
Lovespeak

I was one hour too late,

I walked in to the jeep

Then an angel surfaced

Tongue-tied, I couldn't speak

 

Your skin, it was whiter than me

Oh, crafted perfectly

Your hair, you dyed it brown like me

So bright and glistening

 

Your teeth lit up when you smiled

Oh, how I wish you were mine

And kiss those tempting lips

You made me lose my speech

 

I couldn't help myself

Look at your perfect self

I didn't know what I felt

With your gaze, you made me melt

 

You also wore glasses 

No, I do not know your name

Please fill my world's patches

I'll never be the same

 

Hey there, mystical stranger

Who wore a shirt with spider

You filled my tiresome world with mystery

I wish someday there will be you and me

 

I hope someday we'll see each other

I wish one day we'll be together

I'll sleep now thinking of you

Pretending you like me too

 
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If a flower bloomed in a dark room...would you trust it?

it eats away at her soul belittles her to a pebble, the self worth is dead in the woman who appears to have it together, plastered smiles and imagined lies of how she really yarns for her life to be, But once she retreats then it haunts her with her failures of life and her upmost inner flaws exhibited for the world to see.... she is taunted by this being of destruction, that she can not let go of for her fate depends on it and by the word of God she doesn't want to derail. But her soul is eating away bit by bit with no love left inside. The structure changed the foundation broke with thin linings of hate, the head of the home is in despair, the care giver portrays the image of a villain, so how does one expect her to produce love with such a dark soul of pure shattered mess. The key has become temporary survival till her strength is restored and her faith is flourished, and when the reflection dictates nothing but utter radiant beauty, till then the key is survival!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Hope you enjoy it!..would appreciate feedback

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