I dissected your poetry,
  read between the lines
    different than mine,
perhaps our sentiments
  don't exactly jive
 nor rhyme in their profundity,
dissimilar perspectives
   in verbosity's distinction
    as fantasies are vastly unique,
our dichotomy mutually exclusive
yet, we bleed the same colors
   as our spaces blur into each other

~~
Let the boy go
underneath the open sky
Let him to find his way
it may be soft or hard, bend or straight

Let him play
with grasshoppers, butterflies who are made his springtime
where dreams rolling on the horizon
That only brushing those images

Let him know
about the books and stars, tell about the lost star
about the tragedy of his ancestor,
even tell about friends or foes

Let him realize
The history of the civilization
what is right or wrong,
how knowledge grew the pen strong!

Let him feel
The beauty and spines of roses,
The freedom of choice where the mind mates
at the estuary of sea  

Let him love
The  birds, animals, people  
And only a girl where he makes
the next dreams of life

One day he will know
His existence within the nature
Envision the existence of universe
And write a poetry about the future of mankind

So Let the boy go

~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

If you knew how much
I want you, you might
run away from my arms
as from a trap.

But mine is not the desire
of possession, ownership
or of "making you mine."

I want us to be
partners in passion;
eyes trading glances,
lips trading kisses,
hands trading caresses.

I want us to be lovers
who share each other
freely and equally,
as the sun and moon
share the same sky
and through their sharing
make it more beautiful.

Two souls intertwined
in a magikal embrace,
testing the limits
of time and space.

  ~mce

He passed a preacher in hazy,
Misty, London streets.
Whispering sermons
From cracked shoeless feet.
None would stoop to
Cast a passing ear,
To the words of a man
With nothing left to fear.

He told tales of love,
Tempered by the light of reality.
Love of money,
Love of greed
And all the objects of fiction
We imagine that we need.

"To each let it be known!"

"None of your possesions are yours to own!"

"Leased out for the duration of your time!"

"From house to car and from the body to the mind!"

The passers by barely noticed the guy
Who spoke from the heart
With the words of the wise.
The wisest words they would hear for weeks
Lost among the
Hazy, misty, London streets.

She looks down on the marriage
Picture of woe
Words of, told you so
Open your eyes
Fool in disguise
Pretty doll dressed in white
Porcelain pieces shiny bright
Escaping from words
I told you so
With nowhere to go
Dreams like the flowers
Withered and gone
Just like the fairy tale
That didn’t belong
Porcelain girl
Dreams so bright
Closes the door
Into the night
Keepsake of a picture
Pretty in white
She tried her best
Just wasn’t right
The girls a woman now
Daughter in tow
Harsh lesson for grandparents
Who didn’t want to know
Now they live with the words
I told you so.

I see how white light startles.
I snapped a pic and she spun in circles.
She wanted a photograph
to cover her mother's epitaph,
so she could have a laugh.

She smoked to get away -
but this isn't what'd she say,
exhaling, "All we are is carbon
and a lack of empathy."

We blended into hues of
microwave dinners
and church alters.
I used to tell her to go
just to halt her.

We prayed to get away -
but that's not what we'd say,
whispering, "Help us be more
than carbon and a lack of empathy."