Have I already told you?
that I always miss you
on a day to day basis
Have I already told you?
that I want to hold you
in this cold, lonely night
Have I already told you?
that you're all I see
in this myriad crowd
Have I already told you?
how you look so cute
when you wear that smile
Have I already told you?
that I'm slowly falling
out of love; it's driving me crazy
Have I already told you?
how lucky I am that I've found you
my one and only comfort zone
Have I already told you?
that I'm hurt with words you've said
I thought it was me all along.
But, I was wrong.
that's why I didn't tell you
what I feel about you.
Have I already told you?
how lucky that person is
to be loved by you...
Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 7:16 AM UTC
You always look at me
like I'm a goddess
even though I'm not that pretty
even though I'm not that smart
Oh Albert, You must have the biggest heart
to love something
so imperfect
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 6:53 PM UTC
Thank you,
for cleaning up my room
it was dark and full of gloom
until you came
gently picked up the trash
and did a few spins to me singing jazz
I too tried
to clean up your mess
we both were full of
emptiness
Times have changed
and I still sing jazz
but now you have left
and my room is a mess
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 6:40 PM UTC
If you were a song
I would sing you dearly
and the keys of the piano
would resonate in my living room
If you were a song
the most beautiful melody
would crash into peoples hearts
I would sing and play you
all night long
if you were a song
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 9:29 AM UTC
Love is a warm breeze.
Ah, adventure!
Mainlands die!
The captain sails like a small sailor.
Waves rise like a stormy wind.
Why does the ship fall?
Dying swiftly like a sunny moon.
Love, faith, endurance.
Where is the warm breeze?
All breezes fight rough, cold winds.
Never desire a sunny moon.
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 8:02 AM UTC
Tell me this!
How can you cage a bird
When you fell in love
Whilst watching it fly?
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 11:05 AM UTC
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC
she weeps because of me
the day I left
my memories
screaming
a song
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 11:02 AM UTC
life is like
when you're
a little kid
and you
discover that
there is more
than twenty-four
crayons in the box
that there is
the possibility
of forty-eight colors
of sixty-four
of one-hundred and twenty
that there are
so many shades
of love and anger and peace and despair
and absolute bliss
and the ability
to express them all
are now
in the palm
of your hand
life is
colorful
beautiful
thought-provoking
lovely
soulful
heartbreaking
inspiring
and absolutely wonderful
every day is
a new sunrise
a new chance
to transform into
the butterfly you
want to be
go out there
and change the world, kid
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
So, we’ll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we’ll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 5:31 PM UTC