yashashvi-1 - Hello Poetry

Aren't we humans born to be the carriers of moments ? that turns out to be past or the history which we like to name as memories ,carrying versions of people in our minds that we remember them as one and may be making them time travel so they will be remembered when they are no longer there may be by our side or in existence . If not then, why did we born and for what?

0

Aug 8, 2022

Aug 8, 2022 at 6:00 PM UTC

3am thoughts

Aren't we humans born to be the carriers of moments ? that turns out to be past or the history which we like to name as memories ,carrying versions of people in our minds that we remember them as one and may be making them time travel so they will be remembered when they are no longer there may be by our side or in existence . If not then, why did we born and for what?

3

You see , we were never apart . I take the parts of you, all your weirdness and stitch them together into words, pen them on papers to make a version of you that i remember and take you everywhere i go and you think i forgot you , how can i ever?

0

Apr 10, 2022

Apr 10, 2022 at 3:21 AM UTC

If we ever stop talking

You see , we were never apart . I take the parts of you, all your weirdness and stitch them together into words, pen them on papers to make a version of you that i remember and take you everywhere i go and you think i forgot you , how can i ever?

1

turns out that the wounds you can't see are the most painful

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Apr 4, 2021

Apr 4, 2021 at 3:09 AM UTC

Hidden

turns out that the wounds you can't see are the most painful

1

Sometimes they flow as river But unable to hold in hands Sometimes cold as ice able to hold But not for a long-time Sometimes like fog able to see, feel But unable to touch Sometimes like snow flake able to touch But runs away along the wind They might change; may be harden for a while Or maybe cold or may be warm Nonetheless they are pure Because I have seen the water in them So, I believe they are descendants of water Every time I miss the pureness I search them: Sometimes in tear drops Sometimes in rain drops Sometimes in dew drops Cause they are the cry of nature

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Jan 22, 2021

Jan 22, 2021 at 9:41 AM UTC

color of pura aqua

Sometimes they flow as river But unable to hold in hands Sometimes cold as ice able to hold But not for a long-time Sometimes like fog able to see, feel But unable to touch Sometimes like snow flake able to touch But runs away along the wind They might change; may be harden for a while Or maybe cold or may be warm Nonetheless they are pure Because I have seen the water in them So, I believe they are descendants of water Every time I miss the pureness I search them: Sometimes in tear drops Sometimes in rain drops Sometimes in dew drops Cause they are the cry of nature

19

Mistakes are of thorns they are like fungi let you down slowly they don't wither do people dare to touch a cactus do they? while reading the book , Maura unpleasingly began to prepend "don't cactus bear colorful flowers after all ?"

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Jan 8, 2021

Jan 8, 2021 at 6:16 AM UTC

thorns doesn't hurt anymore

Mistakes are of thorns they are like fungi let you down slowly they don't wither do people dare to touch a cactus do they? while reading the book , Maura unpleasingly began to prepend "don't cactus bear colorful flowers after all ?"

9

Ever pondered how the inexpressible beauty can be described in the few letters yet knowing the word beautiful defines itself in other words.

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Jan 2, 2021

Jan 2, 2021 at 8:23 AM UTC

the words allure me

Ever pondered how the inexpressible beauty can be described in the few letters yet knowing the word beautiful defines itself in other words.

1

if i have to go through anguish to write sad poetry will you teach me how pain hurts? ( I started to search for the words )

0

Dec 24, 2020

Dec 24, 2020 at 2:26 AM UTC

will you teach me?

if i have to go through anguish to write sad poetry will you teach me how pain hurts? ( I started to search for the words )

4

walking alone in the street of lights i took a trip down to the reminiscence the souvenirs tucking out of my bag the hanging bracelet of yours is a spell that made the twirling mixtape of past road everything with everyone are oblivious meetings unknowing smiles that cheeks made; to the unknown persons to become one on path when the eyes met for the first time we became friends of friends who just know truths not secrets of friends who changed into soulmates tons of people crosses the path with us hundreds makes smiles few people takes a step forward to talk some shares stories some shares realities while others leaves stains on heart however lately i realized the path leads to last step the step we take alone to never return when i think about it i'm afraid to talk causally it triggers in a way to skip my breathe and then i remembered; i met strangers and eventually leave as a stranger its just the strangers we meet at start and its just the strangers that makes memories its just only the strangers makes you laugh its just only the strangers you think twice per day to the strangers you get attached yes, its just the strangers makes you cry at the end in between its exactly the same strangers you can't let go eventually you fall in love with those strangers love them in a way you never forget although you know , you can't hold them forever this how i fear to bond myself deeply after all i know , "we were meant to be strangers again".

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Dec 18, 2020

Dec 18, 2020 at 5:49 AM UTC

STRANGERS AGAIN

walking alone in the street of lights i took a trip down to the reminiscence the souvenirs tucking out of my bag the hanging bracelet of yours is a spell that made the twirling mixtape of past road everything with everyone are oblivious meetings unknowing smiles that cheeks made; to the unknown persons to become one on path when the eyes met for the first time we became friends of friends who just know truths not secrets of friends who changed into soulmates tons of people crosses the path with us hundreds makes smiles few people takes a step forward to talk some shares stories some shares realities while others leaves stains on heart however lately i realized the path leads to last step the step we take alone to never return when i think about it i'm afraid to talk causally it triggers in a way to skip my breathe and then i remembered; i met strangers and eventually leave as a stranger its just the strangers we meet at start and its just the strangers that makes memories its just only the strangers makes you laugh its just only the strangers you think twice per day to the strangers you get attached yes, its just the strangers makes you cry at the end in between its exactly the same strangers you can't let go eventually you fall in love with those strangers love them in a way you never forget although you know , you can't hold them forever this how i fear to bond myself deeply after all i know , "we were meant to be strangers again".

35

maybe like the moon – a part of them is hidden away that’s why they always seem to smile and when all of theirs is visible, I crave to see their mythical presence

0

Dec 14, 2020

Dec 14, 2020 at 10:15 AM UTC

moonchild

maybe like the moon – a part of them is hidden away that’s why they always seem to smile and when all of theirs is visible, I crave to see their mythical presence

4

if love is rain can't you be the umbrella protecting it's not just just mere definition of drowning in one thoughts or attraction towards ones sanity it's the trust , reliance you can't just drown like that rather you be the soil to absorb either be the sun to drain all of it but question yourself is it a flood causing rain?

0

Nov 27, 2020

Nov 27, 2020 at 11:09 AM UTC

ohhh was it love?

if love is rain can't you be the umbrella protecting it's not just just mere definition of drowning in one thoughts or attraction towards ones sanity it's the trust , reliance you can't just drown like that rather you be the soil to absorb either be the sun to drain all of it but question yourself is it a flood causing rain?

11