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Your fire so bright,
it takes me in.
Your warmth so tender,
it burns me within.

Heard many warnings,
still I fall.
And I’d fall again,
no regrets.

For this is where I belong.
what the 'moth' said to the 'fire flames' when it asked not to fall.
No sunset for a heart so bright,
No darkness for a soul of light.
Life is hard, yet full of joy,
As fate treats us like a toy.

Never give up at all times;
Accept all sorrows' rhymes.
Trust each step along your way,
And hopes shall never fade away.

Way of life—hold to morals and belief;
May Allah grant you endless relief.
Today was a good day,
but I missed you by my side.
Yesterday was a bad day,
and I longed for your hand in mine.

Now tomorrow is on its way too
I don’t know what it will be,
but I know I’ll be missing you.
T
 Mar 8 Arya
Kashmala Nawaz
Proud to be a woman!
We are strong like the Mountains,
Deep like Oceans, and High Achievers like Clouds.
We are Soft like Snow, Hard like Stone,
And Dangerous like Fire.
We're Valuable like Silver, Precious like Gold And Priceless like Diamonds.
We're Lovable, Valuable, Understandable,
Respectable, Changeable, and Undefeated,
Because we're women.
#HAPPY WOMEN'S DAY
I should Say HAPPY STRONG HUMAN Being DAY
Happy Women's Day to every woman who reads my post
 Mar 8 Arya
Marc Morais
I used to build words
like a carpenter—
lines hammered out
plank by plank
word for word,
like bridges
spanning waters
for anyone
eager to cross.

And now
I write to meet the page
like aching skin,
like quiet water
hesitant to ripple—
careful to bear a mark.

All the words
I’ve sent off—
paper boats,
adrift.

I let them all go,
travelers,
and bridges alike,
let them sink or rise—
and let the tide
bring the words
home.
 Mar 7 Arya
Nishu Mathur
In every flower
There is a poem
In a garland
There's poetry

Pastel similes
Bright metaphors
Sweet allusions
Quaint allegories

In every flower
There is a poem
For every season
And every day

A song of Spring
A verse of winter -
And all that life
Brings your way.
 Mar 7 Arya
hannah miller
do you know the weight of it?
clawing your way up
test after test,
year after year,
to be the perfect reflection of the dreams they have for you,
those that are now your own.
where your worth now hangs.

when they see the prize,
they say, 'oh it comes so easily to her'

Easily?

i bled for this.
i screamt for this.
and my mind?
it whispers
'this is just what you're supposed to do'
you are 'gifted'
its your mere responsibility.
nothing to celebrate. nothing special.

isnt it?
when there are two voices in your mind
one scorning your inadequacy,
the other a desperate, fragile echo of perceived success,
constantly vying, and battling to beat the other;
you yourself get lost in the middle.

7th mar, 25
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