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al-quqoniy
When my co-author is far away, I don't know why, I fall astray. You should decry Procrastination's deceit, Which I try But cannot defeat!
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Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 9:09 AM UTC
When my co-author is far away
We're separated by the ocean On the Earth. And so distinct are the emotions Of our hearts. I wish I could pull out These memories of you. And plant instead in good amount Feelings I can pursue! Though window is so blurred, I still can see A shape of figure I adored, In front of wet trajectory.
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Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 9:07 AM UTC
We're separated by the ocean
From the desert,                              which is far away, Came little bird,                             seeking for place to stay. When he was crossing,                                         unknown garden The Irish daisy’s                               occurrence sudden Made him forget how                                       To fly and breathe. And made him fall,                                   on thorns beneath. Abruptly standing                                  Up, he began his song. Here is, enjoy!                          Won’t make you wait long: “Without you a moment Is like a century for me! Your short absence is such a torment Made me question: to be or not to be? The land where you are Is like an entrance of cemetery. But land with no thee, Is graveyard saying:  not to be! I want to own selfishly, Your snowy petal’s tenderness, And to declare jealously, A war, To those who are Drunk with your scents! Recall, A moment is the century On your absence!” This is the end of song,                                         But yet This Irish daisy is                                Making my bird upset. We seek just happiness                                          In an unhappy world, Which has confessors                                       With unresponded song!
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May 27, 2025
May 27, 2025 at 7:16 PM UTC
Bird and The Irish Daisy (to K.A.L.)
From the desert,                              which is far away, Came little bird,                             seeking for place to stay. When he was crossing,                                         unknown garden The Irish daisy’s                               occurrence sudden Made him forget how                                       To fly and breathe. And made him fall,                                   on thorns beneath. Abruptly standing                                  Up, he began his song. Here is, enjoy!                          Won’t make you wait long: “Without you a moment Is like a century for me! Your short absence is such a torment Made me question: to be or not to be? The land where you are Is like an entrance of cemetery. But land with no thee, Is graveyard saying:  not to be! I want to own selfishly, Your snowy petal’s tenderness, And to declare jealously, A war, To those who are Drunk with your scents! Recall, A moment is the century On your absence!” This is the end of song,                                         But yet This Irish daisy is                                Making my bird upset. We seek just happiness                                          In an unhappy world, Which has confessors                                       With unresponded song!
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Nature's summer is close to come, Meanwhile my spirit is still in winter. This injury, when will I overcome? To finally become a winner? Do not look at me with those empty, Trying-to-see-through-me eyes! Without them I am so unhappy! Without them I feel my body dies! The day will come, and my cold body Will not be warmed on summer rain, The day will come, my dear buddy, You will not see my smile again.
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May 12, 2025
May 12, 2025 at 5:54 PM UTC
The Nature's Summer
I need to write a dot, not a comma, To our book, in which I've never been beloved, But was a memory, a temporary guest, With little space you gave me in your chest. Your life goals are only hedonistic, What made me feel not quite optimistic. Cannot be a sailor, cannot leave the shore: You, on my life-boat to face a storm. My absence won't be hard, won't be a test, As a new toy will appear on your desk. This for you, is enough for my replacement, Since I had zero chance to become your heart’s rudiment!
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May 12, 2025
May 12, 2025 at 5:48 PM UTC
On the Finality of Punctuation