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Afra Al Zaabi Apr 2015
His eyes.. are my favorite poem.
Ses yeux sont ma meilleure poésie.
Afra Al Zaabi Mar 2015
Hello, dearly beloved
How are you doing?
I hope you’re doing fine
It’s been so long
Since we’ve last talked
It’s been so long
Since we’ve last seen each other
I strongly apologise
For keeping you wait for my emails
For I have been busy
And I hope you understand that
Though I know being busy
Is not that much of an excuse
I hope you’re not mad darling
I know you’ve been missing me
For quite some time
I apologies for hurting you
I know how much missing someone hurts
I know
Because I have been missing you too
Which hurts like
An incurable wound
Will you forgive my clumsiness?
I hope you do
Please do
My dear
I love you very
Do you love me still?
I hope you do
Well I know you do
But please say you do
Will you please
Reply to this unravishing poem from me to you
With a ravishing poem from you to me?
I hope you do
Please do

                                           Your poetess,
                                             Afra Alzaabi
Afra Al Zaabi Mar 2015
I can see her smile
But no longer feel it

I can feel her touch
But no longer sense it

I can hear her whispers
But no longer heed her voice

I can feel her cold skin
But no longer feel her warm skin

I can feel her heart
But no longer sense her soul

I can hear her heartbeats
But no longer read her pulses

I can taste the bitterness
But no longer sip the sweetness

I can believe that she’s gone
But no longer conceive that she’s dead

I can no longer see the light
Because it got dimmed the day she died
Afra Al Zaabi Mar 2015
Caught in my own thoughts

Lost in this brutal silence

I feel these sharp words, cut through my heart

Walking around these loud streets,
Feels like walking around a dark forest,
Or perhaps a heart drowning in a pond filled with mud

I am looking for something,
Searching for something,
Something that is not easily found,
Something that is not easily described,
Something that is not easily put in words,
Something that is felt,
Something that is said by many,
But meant by few
Afra Al Zaabi Mar 2015
I feel like a stranger,
Or an outsider as they say

I am surrounded by so many people, yet feel alone.

I feel lost in this big crowd,
Or perhaps a seed surrounded by flowers
A seed indeed

Why do they disdain me?
Do they hear me?
Do I even exist to them?
Do I even belong here?


My mind is telling me I should leave,
But my heart refuses

Should I leave?
Or should I follow my heart instead?

Afra Al Zaabi Mar 2015
It is odd
How being alone in the dimness
Makes it easier for one to think
And re-live moments
I re-lived all the moments I had with you
Just the thought of remembering them makes me feel so dizzy
Then in my mind
I made up a conversation between you and I
Which to be frank
Never happened
I made up things for you to say
I heard your voice saying them
I wish if it was real
That my imagination would come to life
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