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shaik-arif
shaik-arif
21/M/Hyderabad Hello, I'm Arif. An amateur poet trying to reach the pinnacle of writing. I write on things that surround me, on the happenings of my life and mostly on emotions. I am open to anyone who is ready to help me, in bringing the best out me. XOXO.
Of the ghosts and the unsung spirits, O thee ladies, are always scared. Of the tiny bugs and cockroaches, O thee ladies, only thee are scared. Of the things falling and sudden sounds, O thee ladies, only thee are scared. Of the cuddly cats and adorable dogs, O thee ladies, only thee are scared. Tell me ladies, is there anything in This world of which you're not scared?
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May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 6:41 AM UTC
Always scared
A few minutes 'fore I saw you on screen. I couldn't anticipate your deadly entry scene. You made my eyes pop, ears ringing You don't possess a face that's charming. Hence people; many abhor you, I adore you. A look at your enigmaticly bewitching eyes In the middle of night in my phone, keeps me Awake for rest of it, you're my visual alarm. Yet I still fall for you, everyday I see you. 'The way you make me feel' is beyond havoc. I was lured to you, you're my first sight love Valak.
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May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
Valak
When I saw you in your lovely picture. My heart burnt as you Imprinted on it, Like a tiny pint of tincture.
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May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC
Picture
Born to the indigent parents, unfortunately The destitute children, only to live a life Excruciating; the life in poverty forever. No means to study, less sources of money. Hands stretched all day waiting for alms. Opulence; is even one old rusty penny. To them the very streets we spit are homes. Food we throw away is their square meal, Ingesting which, victims they become of little known syndromes. Die in a way, more pathetic than they lived.
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May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 1:16 AM UTC
Destitute children
Young lady thou lol a lot All other words thou forgot. I wonder, is that thou have got. Young lady thou lol a lot. In a pattern like in polka dot.
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May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
LOL
They used wake up when the sun rose. High and bright in the sky, the souls of Syria. Kids gone to school, half asleep babies doze Off, everyone happy, everyone loved. Everyday of life, earlier, like a feast, celebrated. Harmless, innocent and unoffending souls. They are woken up now by bombs showering From the sky, straight upon their houses. Bombs filled in with toxic, fatal gases. Killing those harmless children and babies Of months old; who are yet to talk, yet to walk. Desolating parents who dreamt a new world With their babies, souls who know not a sin. Bringing a war to people in name of rehab.
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May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 5:21 AM UTC
Sarin Victims
Aforetime at which hour we were born In this hustling world of disharmony. Rich for what those gents has't nev'r adorn, Poor for what those gents has't nev'r adorn. Conflicting for the limited, forgetting the still. Knoweth not that the still is peace. One day ere we receiveth inner peace. T'will beest late for t, but not yet.
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May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 5:19 AM UTC
Not Yet
Birdie birdie you look so purdy. Making charm of everything else unworthy. Birdie birdie you are so sharpie. Parallel comparator to you is running slowly. Birdie birdie your eyes are so glittery. Carats of diamonds now 'coming jittery. Birdie birdie you needn't worry. With me you will always be happy. Birdie birdie I know you are hearty. To you delay no more my journey. Let me in your life soon and scurry.
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May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 4:18 AM UTC
Birdie