The season of my love — is it temporary too?
You are the rain — hide me in your arms when I cry.
You are the snowfall — its silence wraps me in warmth.
You are the medicine — healing my bruises without a trace.
Yet I drink you slow, like a tea gone cold —
my hesitation steeped in fear of burning.

When morning light gently touches your face,
And evening hums the song our hearts both know,
You are the goddess time can’t ever replace—
Your warmth is what makes even cold nights glow.

Your eyes are deep, like stars could hide in there,
They pull me in, the way the moon moves tides.
And like the sun that dances through spring air,
Your beauty shines—so soft, it never hides.

I’m just a bee, enchanted by your scent,
Drawn to the sweetness in your gentle bloom.
And as the sun begins its slow descent,
It crowns your skin with gold, like soft perfume.

So fate declares you loveliest of all,
And I, your poet, rise to heed love’s call.

When the world shatters, piece by piece,
Each shard too lost—if found, too heavy to seize.
Life becomes a wasteland, where joy’s just a trace,
So numb… even sorrow wears a human face.

Tell me your score, let’s settle the floor,
Did you make that college or just talk some more?
Got a degree? Cool, but what's that prove?
You flexin' empty, I’m in a real groove.

Bottom of the chain? Yeah, that’s where I dine.
Still fightin’ hard like the crown is mine.
You call me dumb? Then what are you?
A leech suckin’ peace just to feel brand new?

I failed? So what, I’m still in the game.
Even if Elon said my name in shame,
I’d look him dead in the face, no fear,
Like—“I don’t believe you, billionaire.”

Nah, you won’t cry in my grave.
You ain’t payin’ my rent.
So zip that hate,
I don’t need your two cent.

I grind like you,
Clock time like you,
Work for bosses who don’t rhyme like you.

Call me broken, call me late,
Call me names, go tempt your fate.
But don’t you dare, nah not today—
Don’t you ever call me weak — okay?

You don't know my fire,
You just see my scars.
But stars ain't born —
They're forged in wars.

The morning hums a gentle tune,
dew still clings where night was strewn.
A sparrow writes across the air,
its wings a brush, its song a prayer.

The sun climbs slow, with golden hands,
unfolding light across the lands.
Shadows shrink, yet softly stay,
teaching night must give to day.

We rise, we fall, like tides at sea,
yet every dawn rewrites the key
a chance to sing, to dream, to try,
beneath this vast forgiving sky.

The dragonfly hovers,
born of storm-fed ponds,
its wings catch sunlight
where shadows once drowned.

It teaches—
from fleeting rain
can rise
a life of light.

Wear the logo.
Sip the overpriced latte.
Smile like you belong.

But deep down
you traded truth
for a tag.

Fake gold glows too,
until it rains.

Don’t plant your worth
in damp soil
just to grow rice
for someone else’s plate.

Luxury?
Maybe.
But only if illusion is your favorite fabric.

Real talk
your worth isn’t worn,
it’s lived.

I came into this world like a song
soft, fleeting, and full of wonder.
And one day, I will leave
just as quietly.
Like the last light before night falls.

Bury my fragments in earth’s quiet hands,
let my ashes ripple through sleeping seas.
Cry, but only like morning dew
brief, tender, and full of love.

If you must cry,
let your tears be gentle.
Like the rain that falls in spring
not to grieve,
but to grow.

When you look up at the sky,
and a star seems to shine just for you,
know that it’s me
loving you from a distance
only souls can reach.

And when the wind brushes your cheek,
or rain kisses your hands,
know that I’ve returned
Not as sorrow.
But as love.
A promise that never left.