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Àŧùl Sep 2020
The absurdity of modern poets.
They don't use the rhyme scale,
But they use many cuss words.
And they think writing suchlike,
They look cooler than their peers.
My HP Poem #1885
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Sep 2020
They all have ostracized rhyming,
Poets, themselves they be calling...

The F-words aplenty they use,
And they think they look cool...

Rescue the language if possible,
Listen to its cries, they are not bearable.
My HP Poem #1884
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Sep 2020
If you lost your feelings to the world's ways,
Then surely I don't look for your sympathy,
But there are few who understand,
I do look for their empathy,
And their kind words of advice.
4 years old HP-unposted poem.

My HP Poem #1883
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Sep 2020
Don't let this distance increase.
My HP Poem #1882
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Sep 2020
The storm I hold back
In my heart,
And my mind,
If I release it all at once,
Then everything will end.

At least for me...
My HP Poem #1881
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Aug 2020
I love her infantile eyes,
So deep and dark, with no lies.

I love her chubby cheeks,
So likable and lickable, with no ice.

I love her beautiful hair,
On her mandible so magical, with no lice.

I love her smiley curves,
So spicy, with no added spice.

I love her cute nose,
So precious, with no price.
My HP Poem #1880
©Atul Kaushal
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