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Àŧùl Sep 2020
They dictate our lives,
How they are in space,
Exactly when we are born.

How they are in space,
Or the constellations,
When an individual is born.
My HP Poem #1887
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Sep 2020
Take it,
Or leave it.

It's your choice,
Be wise.
My HP Poem #1886
©Atul Kaushal
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
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