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Fathur Abinaya Dec 2018
You're a tourist in my heart's land,
But you give too much reminiscence.

Your eyes, your body, your voice has become my elegy,
When you left me.

If we never meet again,
My memories of you still remain.

This heart still waiting for you,
And I realized, that I miss you.
Euphie Dec 2018
Things were fine just the way they were,
holding hands and locking lips.
Laughing and crying,
feeling every single emotion a human could.

Here in these hands,
lies every stanza, of my life.

His lips tasted of sour wine
a wine that takes the pain away.
A wine that I would drown myself in forever.
Pagan Paul Jul 2018
.
As his words flow like honey onto the page
with a nod of approval from a linguistic sage.
Long gone are the days when a woman's plays
would look at the poet with a romantic gaze.

His sad verse no longer makes her cry,
his love poems fail to lift her heart to fly.
Her attention wanders like a lonely voice
away from sanctuary, towards more choice.

And as his pen drifts across a blank page
he remembers the ladies, being centre stage,
the looks of adoration in a beautiful face,
deep pools of experience for his art to embrace.

Melancholic he dips his pen again and tries,
imagination musing her gorgeous ****** eyes.
But the words won't flow, so defeated he cries,
and arranges poets tears into convenient lies.


© Pagan Paul (2017/18)
.
Aihara May 2018
Laying in my bed,
In my head neurosis hit again;
Greetings! Just like an old friend,
That one unwanted, pretentious man.

Got a hint I won't be breathing again,
One last chance to make it last;
Forever green I missed my old grin,
From back when I was younger;
Where I never stop to wander.

I remembered barefoot on my way home,
Alone with no one to walk along,
Mom said I should be capable to be on my own;
Looking back no child should walk alone,
Many could go wrong but it decide to wait for its turn.
part 1
Jayantee Khare May 2018
The reminiscence
not tangible,
Yet perceptible
more than
the presence....
Just a thought... Memories overpower the present tense...
Poetroyalee Jan 2018
Gentle breezes,
dismal sighs.
Vacant sceneries,
darkened skies.

Yearning lovers
in the night,
all is well,
all is right.
Lucy Ryan Jan 2018
I am finally starting to understand winter nights for what they are:
sterility of a black sky, inner warmth that never quite touches skin, shivering on the side of the road after tequila and laughter have laid waste to four AM and it is only the traffic lights left to reflect you.

Maybe that's why we listen to the downbeats of summer, the slow songs made for rooftops but more devastating in the pitch dark of seven PM on a main road somewhere in the city, all alone and au revoir and sepia memories of honey-warm light leaking through the kitchen we used to share.

internal warmth and windchimes outside sing hellfire for the passing storm.
They're both happy together; but suddenly, everything has changed and he had mistake---
The man, who had been guilty for some several times; but the day came by that they don't want it to happen.
The woman asked him; and said "Can we have a break?"---
The man was surprised at the question of the woman. So he didn't realized it immediately; and then the man asks. "Are you planning to curtail our communication?".

The man suffers from loss; every night he's crying while remembering the past--
It was their last conversation; and their last encounter that would weaken him. That caused him many times he tried to **** himself.
A few months ago the woman heard about him; that the man has passed away for so fast--
The woman went hastily through the grave of her dear man while blaming herself; She is crying now in front of the man's grave and talked that  "I shouldn't give up on you, I shouldn't depart you and I know you won't do such things to yourself."
This is have a part 2
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