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  • .
he was a garden 
she was a gardener
he thanked her for the seeds 
and asked her to leave
as if a garden grows by itself
  • .
    he was a garden
    she was a gardener
    he thanked her for the seeds
    and asked her to leave
    as if a garden grows by itself
  • 40 1 17 April, 2019
  • all of us have bit of 'children' in our souls
sometimes it comes as a spark in our eyes
and sometimes, as the energy in our voices.

but I wish, on days when I pick up the colours,
the child in me comes back and I colour because I want to.
so that my canvas doesn't remain empty on days
when existing becomes a problem and I fear the
worth of the colours, put on that white sheet.

on days, when my metaphors remain cliched and
I judge my poem to be bad, even before it's written
I wish I get my storybook in my hand again,
so that my endless versions and interpretations 
don't feel scared to come out, and my poem gets written
even with metaphors flawed and the poem, incomplete itself.

i wish that part of being a child doesn't die,
that isn't scared to speak, or scared to sing
the part that knows what happiness is,
and doesn't deny itself the entry to its own home
because some obstacles of 'usefulness' stop him.
i have forgot to tell myself, "no metrics of productivity
can judge your worth, and your home, your space,
your art is to be reclaimed only by you,
and not a world that tells you,
it isn't yours or you aren't worth of it." so in an attempt to revive that dying part of myself,
i renovate the home, where the part of me 
that stops me from 'being', resides.
the home that's made of fears and insecurities,
broken from parts, from where the little happiness
leaks, like water from an old house does.
the walls of confidence, in which are dark and dirty,
and windows of hopes, broken.
so i fill those broken spaces with self love
so that happiness doesn't escape
and clean the walls and draw with white on them,
the image of an ocean, and write unfinished poems on them
so that i know that it is okay to be sad and incomplete 
and okay to be constant, while being vivid 
in your own little self and flowing with time.
and lastly, i repair those broken windows with pieces of hope,
that even on days i am unable to fight myself,
i can turn to windows and hope for better,
while looking at the sky not in despair,
but in hope that one evening,
change might come my home too, 
as beautiful as these sunsets. /a new home/
  • all of us have bit of 'children' in our souls
    sometimes it comes as a spark in our eyes
    and sometimes, as the energy in our voices.

    but I wish, on days when I pick up the colours,
    the child in me comes back and I colour because I want to.
    so that my canvas doesn't remain empty on days
    when existing becomes a problem and I fear the
    worth of the colours, put on that white sheet.

    on days, when my metaphors remain cliched and
    I judge my poem to be bad, even before it's written
    I wish I get my storybook in my hand again,
    so that my endless versions and interpretations
    don't feel scared to come out, and my poem gets written
    even with metaphors flawed and the poem, incomplete itself.

    i wish that part of being a child doesn't die,
    that isn't scared to speak, or scared to sing
    the part that knows what happiness is,
    and doesn't deny itself the entry to its own home
    because some obstacles of 'usefulness' stop him.
    i have forgot to tell myself, "no metrics of productivity
    can judge your worth, and your home, your space,
    your art is to be reclaimed only by you,
    and not a world that tells you,
    it isn't yours or you aren't worth of it." so in an attempt to revive that dying part of myself,
    i renovate the home, where the part of me
    that stops me from 'being', resides.
    the home that's made of fears and insecurities,
    broken from parts, from where the little happiness
    leaks, like water from an old house does.
    the walls of confidence, in which are dark and dirty,
    and windows of hopes, broken.
    so i fill those broken spaces with self love
    so that happiness doesn't escape
    and clean the walls and draw with white on them,
    the image of an ocean, and write unfinished poems on them
    so that i know that it is okay to be sad and incomplete
    and okay to be constant, while being vivid
    in your own little self and flowing with time.
    and lastly, i repair those broken windows with pieces of hope,
    that even on days i am unable to fight myself,
    i can turn to windows and hope for better,
    while looking at the sky not in despair,
    but in hope that one evening,
    change might come my home too,
    as beautiful as these sunsets. /a new home/
  • 92 5 13 April, 2019
  • Simply said, you were queen of my heart. And you’ll always have a special part in my life
  • Simply said, you were queen of my heart. And you’ll always have a special part in my life
  • 34 2 10 April, 2019
  • 27 3 10 April, 2019
  • This poem was written when people actually started thinking that he'll never return. This is just a Cascade of Words my heart just spoke out to them,that no matter what happens-We will still stay together, forever. Long distance relationships are the most underrated one, and seems to be apologetic. But, it never seemed to those who miss their other half on calls, that waiting is the biggest pleasure of this relationship. Waiting is something that increases the love between us,more. The more you criticize, the more our love gets better, and trust, stronger. It definitely occurs to them that it is just a matter of time that one can forget the other; but it never occurs to them that their trust in us that we will move on is just another trust that they never know that we have moved far ahead of their mere thought of love-We have been way more loyal to each other,managed to bear the insecurities that we had, and yes, my belief is way more strong than the belief of those who don't believe me. Anyways, this is my favorite piece I've written so far, so decided to share with the world ♥
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#starrynights #longdistancerelationship #relationshipgoals #beauty #trust #faith #love #hearts #sincerity #pages #poetry #poetsofig #poetsofinstagram #poetic #poetsofnation #blogger #writer #writersofinstagram #writersofig #writersnetwork #writera #writersblock #globalcultpoet #fearless #phenomenal #believethat
  • This poem was written when people actually started thinking that he'll never return. This is just a Cascade of Words my heart just spoke out to them,that no matter what happens-We will still stay together, forever. Long distance relationships are the most underrated one, and seems to be apologetic. But, it never seemed to those who miss their other half on calls, that waiting is the biggest pleasure of this relationship. Waiting is something that increases the love between us,more. The more you criticize, the more our love gets better, and trust, stronger. It definitely occurs to them that it is just a matter of time that one can forget the other; but it never occurs to them that their trust in us that we will move on is just another trust that they never know that we have moved far ahead of their mere thought of love-We have been way more loyal to each other,managed to bear the insecurities that we had, and yes, my belief is way more strong than the belief of those who don't believe me. Anyways, this is my favorite piece I've written so far, so decided to share with the world ♥
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    #starrynights #longdistancerelationship #relationshipgoals #beauty #trust #faith #love #hearts #sincerity #pages #poetry #poetsofig #poetsofinstagram #poetic #poetsofnation #blogger #writer #writersofinstagram #writersofig #writersnetwork #writera #writersblock #globalcultpoet #fearless #phenomenal #believethat
  • 56 8 5 April, 2019
  • I learn the hard way
  • I learn the hard way
  • 90 7 31 March, 2019