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A door is a door,
Whether you adore it for it's made by a doer.
Keep procrastinating and let the defect stay,
or get it replaced.
A poem about a misfit door.

My HP Poem #1984
©Atul Kaushal
Dragonfly
Oh, Dragonfly
There you are, my dragonfly

Every day, it’s utter hell within in my head
Sometimes I hurt so much, I just wish I were dead
I don’t do much anymore, just hide and cry
People tell me it gets better, but it’s all just a lie

Filled with exhaustion, I look to the sky
I never got the chance to tell you goodbye
They tell me to be happy, that you’re in a better place
Next thing I know, the tears are streaming down my face
There is nothing I want more than your sweet, loving embrace
Nothing is right, nothing is the same
Life is now no more than a torturous game

I look up and there I see
A visitor who I know is here for me
There you are, soaring through the sky
A dragonfly that has come to say hi
I watch it’s wings buzz and is flies on by  
There you are mom, I know it’s you
It may sound stupid but I know it’s true

Dragonfly
Oh, Dragonfly
There you are my dragonfly
Grieving my mother's death, she always said she'd come back as a dragonfly and every time I see a dragonfly, I like to think it's her.
Acceptance is sweet,
But takes time
And is hard to achieve.
It cannot be worked on like a muscle;
Quantity is not the answer,
Time is.
Acceptance comes like a timid mouse,
Rather than like a herd of elephants.
Walk the journey,
Traverse the landscape,
Feel the sensations of emotions.
Be present.
Grief is a vital ingredient.
Embrace it with both hands, and
A warm heart.
It’s time for winter to thaw, and
Spring to have its way.
Feel the joy of new life,
Harness its power;
Acceptance is a force to be reckoned with.
I love a sunburnt country,
but now the land's ablaze.
the oxygen we breathe has turned to dust
yet our request for help is denied.
I love a sunburnt country,
but there's not much left to last.

Firefighters aren't getting paid,
Neither are their bills.
yet our leader claims we're all fine
but he can afford to jet away.

The wildlife is damaged.
Koalas are losing homes.
much like the population
as the fires rip through their walls.

I love my sunburnt country,
but this has gone on too long.
while it's nice you're in hawaii Mr. Morrison,
everyone else is left to stand alone..
She
Adorned in the Attire of Hopes,
She takes flights to rove.
Her plight has become her strength;
There is no boundary to her pride's length.
With a Crown of Esteem,
The Shine from her Beams.
Freedom is the Ornament,
Empowering her for life's Tournament!!

© Biswarupa Purkayastha.
so joan will be
revered

if the pencil slips
she will remain
ignored
Will eventually bring out the truth,
And reveal a person's true colours.
9/9/2024
On a blank canvas like this, I imagine words
Some wild but others peaceful
Some sweet but others bitter
Yet stand as one in perfect harmony
To form a whole far greater than I can ever imagine
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