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I don't write when iam happy
Joy makes me dance,not think
It fills my hands with flowers
Not pens.

But sadness?
She sits me down,
Open my chest,
And spills the ink.
Where have all the flowers gone

where have all the flowers gone

to adorn the graves of warriors gone

where have all the flowers gone

To the lonely  to be along

where have all the flowers gone

in heaven forever young never torn

Where have all the flowers gone

to the polluted land of ours to mourn

where have all the flowers gone

To give to a girl a smile to be born

where have all the flowers gone

To be ever a fragrance lingering along

Where have all the flowers gone

To bring peace to lives in war torn

Where have all the flowers gone

To say a prayer for a joyous morn

Pavin
Inspired by a song from Peter Seeger
Life a coins toss
In seconds lifes loss
Oh what doth it cause
Life brought to a pause
Answers where to seek
For lo we humans meek
In seconds heart beats end
A message Tis life doth send

Pavin
Sometimes when we are at a wrong time at a wrong place
Just Peace


To defend, ye called
Thy dreams stalled

Tis world's new order
Slaved citizens in their own border

Machinery of war watched with awe
Enticing the brave to grave

Cost of war doth the hungry feed
It just waters enmitys seed

Peace on earth people at peace
May all wars in tis world cease

Pavin
After every flower,
There's someone tending to it with care.
Through every storm and season's test,
Ensuring it survives,
And someday, blooms its best.
Or simply keeps on blooming,
Until there are no seasons
And no more storms to test.
This poem is for my dear mother.
coming after you...
there is nowhere to hide!
Not all rivers
end up in the ocean–
doesn't make their journey
less worthy.

Not all love
ends up in a lover's arms–
doesn't make it any less
worthy.
I tell myself lies
To protect my ego
Twist what I know
Ignore the bruise on my pride
I tell myself lies
You enjoy my poetry
You feel very flattered by me
You may not care to see
Or even know me
But I tell myself lies
I pretend to believe
The wooden boards
of this old harbour
reeks of blood
stains,
seeping through
the gaps.
Splashing
into
a crystal
but yet
blurred mirror.
Who we were,
before the jump
now forgotten,
Drowning
into red seas.
I think many of us feel this way and writing about it helps us. Life is not easy, for sure. Suicide is never the answer. What doesn't **** you, does make you adapt better.
The Devil
Doesn’t tear you down
He builds you up
Until

You believe you can
Do it alone
Then he smiles
As you fall

And you always fall
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