Tears,
they carry weight,
more than saltwater breaking the dam—
they are the liquid syntax of our soul.

Unspoken words
blur the edges of vision,
and we tremble, not from weakness,
but from the quake of something deeper,
a chasm opening wide.

Sadness. Overwhelm. Rage. Joy.
It all pools into one common thread
invisible until it spills
across our cheeks.

Yet, society fears this flood,
as if emotions shouldn't break the surface.
We wear our stoicism like armour,
but real strength is in the unraveling.
In the wet confession
we try to blink away.

To cry is to translate
what words could never say,
to let the body speak
its native tongue,
pure, raw, unrefined.

Don't shut the floodgates.
Tears know the way.
They navigate the jagged landscapes
of grief, of joy, of loss, of rage,
dripping into the open wounds
we pretend are healed.

They tell us what we refuse to hear,
so we bow to them,
not in defeat, but in reverence,
for every tear is an offering
of truth we cannot bear alone.

In life, so much is left behind,
But love's the thread that weaves the soul,
It's not a dream that slips through time,
But the force that keeps us whole.

We let go of hopes that once were bright,
Our visions shift, our passions fade,
Yet love, in all its quiet might,
Is the light that won't degrade.

Through every phase, each passing year,
Some things we outgrow, some we leave,
But love remains, forever near,
The truth we learn to believe.

Love's not a storm that takes its toll,
But the ground beneath our feet,
It holds us close, makes us whole,
And in its care, we find retreat.

It doesn't fit a fleeting mold,
Or lift us far from who we are,
Love, in its tender, gentle hold,
Is the most enduring star.

It's not a fairy tale we chase,
But the strength that helps us rise,
Love meets us in the simple grace,
Of everyday, beneath our skies.

To love is to be open wide,
To all it brings, in every hue,
It's in the way we learn to bide,
And let its healing guide us through.

So do not let your heart give way,
For love is more than just a dream,
It's the path that shows you day by day,
That life is deeper than it seems.

When you place your heart upon the world again,
Do not seek the shadows of what you once knew,
For love that mirrors the past will carry the ache
Of battles lost, of hope that didn't break through.

Instead, search for the love you've never touched,
The kind that meets you where you stand today,
Not bound by echoes of what couldn't last,
But blossoming in this season, soft and brave.

It will come to you in ways unknown before,
Not in the shapes of memories worn and cold,
But in a laugh that lights a different sky,
In hands that hold you like they'll never let go.

And when it calls your name, it will not sound
Like voices of the love you used to know.
It will carve new stories, breathe fresh life
Into the corners of your soul left untouched, aglow.

It will settle deep within your bones, a fire
That's both unsettling and right, its warmth so near,
A love that feels too vast to fit in words,
A quiet strength that silences your fears.

So do not chase the ghosts of what has passed,
Do not seek the comfort of familiar pain.
Let this love be wild, unknown, untamed,
Let it rise to meet you in the sweetest refrain.

For what the past could not sustain, let go,
Your future holds the tender light of trust.
Welcome the love that comes anew,
For it is different, and it is just.

In the quiet of twilight, when thoughts softly stray,
I find myself often in a curious delay.
The train of my musings, swift and free,
Embarks on its journey, sometimes without me.

Oh, the moments I ponder, with a wry little smile,
As my mind starts to wander a wandering mile.
Ideas take flight, like birds in the sky,
While I stand at the station, just waving goodbye.

In the landscape of memories, both near and afar,
I chase after thoughts like a falling star.
They shimmer and glisten, then vanish from sight,
Leaving behind an echo of light.

Yet, in these gaps, there's a gentle grace,
A pause in the race, a serene, sacred space.
For wisdom resides in the still, silent air,
And sometimes, just sometimes, I meet myself there.

So let the train travel, let it sail on the breeze,
Through forests of dreams and memory seas.
For in every departure, a new path is found,
And in each quiet moment, life's wonders abound.

Communication is key,
A phrase like a door, but only half-ajar.
We speak, syllables tumbling like stones,
but do you listen,
or just wait for your turn to reply?

The words I carve from my breath,
sharp-edged and raw,
I offer them to you like a map,
tracing the scars of my mind,
the fractures of my heart.

But if your eyes glaze,
a wall of glass, reflecting only yourself,
then why do I bleed words?
Why do I bother?

It's not the saying, but the hearing,
the seeing beneath the surface,
the understanding stitched between the lines,
that binds us together.

Otherwise, we are just noise
colliding voices in a silent room,
talking to the walls,
while pretending we're understood.

So, if I speak, don't just nod.
Unravel my meaning,
see where I stand in the shadows of these words.
Or else, we're just two monologues,
adrift, never really speaking at all.

In quiet grace, the happy stand,
They do not flaunt with boasting hand.
Their words are few, but pure and bright,
Each spoken thought, a shard of light.

They seek to learn, with open heart,
In every day, they find new art.
Their hands are quick to lift the weak,
In kindness, strength is theirs to speak.

Their laughter rings, unchained and free,
A melody of joy's decree.
To nonsense, they give no mind,
In wisdom's course, they stay aligned.

Their bodies move, with rhythm, strong,
To health and life, they do belong.
No crown they claim, no throne, no right,
For all they earn is born from inner might.

With mindful lips, they shun the sweet,
For balance keeps their spirits fleet.
They sleep in peace, their dreams aglow,
Awake to greet the sun's first show.

In every book, new worlds they find,
And gratitude flows from their mind.
They share their light, they rise with grace,
And greet the day with a smiling face.

Books gather dust in closed rooms,
their spines like stiffened backs,
knowledge locked in pages,
curled tight like fists.

All it takes is the crack of a cover
to spill ink into the air,
to paint the world in colours we've never seen.

Minds, too, fold in on themselves,
like umbrellas in the rain,
useless when clutched shut,
their potential drenched
in ignorance's downpour.

But open and they bloom,
each rib unfurling like a petal,
catching storms, turning deluge into poetry.

There's no shelter in stagnation,
no wisdom in walls.
Books, minds, umbrellas
they were never meant to stay closed.
Only when we risk the rain can we finally see the sun.

When love does falter, and the heart is unsure,
Do not linger in shadows where doubt does endure.
For the soul deserves more than to beg or to plead,
You are a garden, a flame, and a seed.

Walk away, with grace, from the one who can't see,
All the brilliance you hold, all the vastness you'll be.
They are not blind, yet their gaze is too weak,
To fathom the depth, the heights that you seek.

Do not wait for the crumbs of affection to fall,
When your worth is a banquet, and you deserve it all.
Someone will come who drinks from your spring,
Who cherishes the song only you can sing.

So, walk away, for peace comes with release,
You'll find in the distance your heart's quiet peace.
No longer will you wonder why they couldn't stay,
For love, when it's right, never asks you to pray.

And when you meet the one who sees all your light,
You'll look back with a smile, knowing you were right.
To walk from the unsure, to let go of the gray,
To love yourself enough... to simply walk away.

Don’t seek the mirror's fleeting gaze, my friend,
For beauty bends and fades with time's own hand.
The bloom of youth, so fragile and so brief,
Cannot outlast the seasons' endless span.

But oh, your laughter, warm as morning light,
Will age like wine, and with each passing day
It gains a richer hue, a brighter flame,
A gift that even sorrow can't betray.

Your intuition, woven like a cloak,
A tapestry of wisdom, strong and grand,
Will wrap you in its folds, a royal guide,
To steer you through life's ever-shifting sands.

And battles, once too tempting to engage,
You'll leave behind like whispers in the wind.
You'll pick the worthy causes, sharp and clear,
And learn to let the petty wars rescind.

In stillness, like a lotus you will grow,
Each moment blossoms in your mindful grasp.
The present, once elusive, now in reach,
A treasure far too precious to unclasp.

Your heart will learn what time alone can teach,
What's worth your care, what's worthy of your soul.
Like ivy creeping up a castle's wall,
Your sense of worth will flourish and take hold.

So chase not beauty's ghost, my dearest friend,
It shifts and fades like shadows on the shore.
Instead, let all your essence shine and sing,
The traits that make you 'you' forevermore.

For in the end, what truly draws us near,
Is not the face, but hearts that hold us dear.

It's the fire no ocean could quell,
a heat beneath skin, searing
through every pulse, an electric hum
of being alive in the presence of another.

Love is an uncharted storm
raging quietly in the veins;
no hands can grasp it,
no mind contain it,
it slips, shifts, floods every silence
with the whisper of its impossible need.

And yet, it's delicate, too;
the breath that catches
between words,
the glance that folds
time upon itself.
It's in the empty space
between bodies
where all things combust
and surrender.

It breaks you open,
but it's the breaking
that keeps you whole.
It's the longing that lives
inside you forever,
a flame that neither ends
nor begins;
just burns. And burns.
Because love is always too much,
but never enough.

Letting go is the hardest dance,
A battle fought between heart and chance.
The mind, so eager to step ahead,
But the heart lingers where it's been fed.

For memories are stitched like thread,
Woven deep in all that's said,
In favourite songs, or simple sights,
A brand of pasta, soft lamplights.

The world spins on, but you remain,
Caught in love's sweet, aching chain.
And though you try to walk away,
Your heart insists it still must stay.

It's not weakness this lingering ache,
Nor is it wrong, this path you take.
For healing comes in waves, not lines,
A rhythm not bound by clocks or signs.

There will be days of peace, so rare,
And others when the weight's still there.
But this is life, a tender maze,
Of broken hearts and mending days.

Be kind to you, in this in-between,
Where loss and hope both intervene.
For though they're gone, and life is changed,
The love you had is still unchained.

And on those days when tears do fall,
Remember this, above it all.
When life withholds what once felt true,
It's shaping something fresh for you.

So trust the time, the path unseen,
And know you'll heal, though stuck between.

If you don't feel the joy when they rise
When your friend's success shines bright in the skies,
Then what bond do you hold, what claim do you share,
If your heart is unmoved by the heights they dare?

For friendship is woven from threads pure and deep,
It sings with their laughter, it cries when they weep.
It's not just a name, not a casual thread,
But a tapestry woven with words left unsaid.

When their light starts to shine, like the dawn on the sea,
Your heart should ignite, just as wild, just as free.
For true friends are mirrors of joy and of grace,
Reflecting each triumph, each challenge they face.

It's not about envy, nor wishing for more,
But standing beside them as their spirit soars.
In their joy, you find yours, in their glow, you are bright,
For their victories lift you like stars in the night.

If you don't feel the thrill when they take to the air,
If you can't feel their joy, like the wind in your hair,
Then what is the meaning of the bond you defend,
If you don't get excited, then you're not a friend.

For friendship is sacred, a fire that is shared,
It's the light in their eyes when you show that you care.
So, lift them, adore them, let your spirit entwine,
In their success, find joy that's as fierce as it's fine.

Be their pillar, their cheer, with love on display,
For a friend, true in heart, will forever stay.

Upon my shelf, where dreams reside,
A console waits, my joy, my pride.
In quiet glow, it hums my name,
A portal vast, through worlds untamed.

In pixel light, I take my stand,
With Xbox controller in my hand.
Each button pressed, a silent vow,
To chase the stars, to seize the now.

Through realms unknown, through skies of fire,
It fuels my heart, ignites desire.
From battles won to quests begun,
It holds the moon, eclipses the sun.

Oh, Xbox, where my spirit may fly,
A place where endless wonders lie.
My love for thee, forever grows,
In every game, my heart bestows.


Version 2

Oh, Xbox, vessel of digital dreams,
In your embrace, time softly redeems.
With buttons that hum and triggers that sing,
You transport me to realms where heroes take wing.

In twilight hours, your glow fills the room,
Banishing shadows, dispelling the gloom.
Your worlds, so vast, stretch far beyond sight,
Where battles are waged 'neath stars burning bright.

Through dungeons, through forests, through skies ever high,
You lift me beyond where the mundane can fly.
From the thrill of a race to the clash of a fight,
You hold all my passions in pixels of light.

No mere machine, you're a key to a gate,
Unlocking adventures, defying my fate.
A bond that is cherished, so constant, so true,
My love for the Xbox will forever renew.

The mirror splits,
shattering the myth of who you think you are,
shards of self-reflection scattered across the floor.
Each sliver, a truth, biting and blood-stained,
but you stand there, fists unclenched,
eyes wide open.

Growth comes crawling on jagged knees,
this is not a clean ascent,
no golden stairs to carry you up.
It's a wrestle with ghosts,
the ones you've buried with heavy hands,
with silence, with denial.

You cannot flee this reckoning,
the walls close in like truth's rib cage,
breathing you in.
But to run is to shrink,
to fold yourself back into the cocoon of lies
that feels like safety,
but is nothing more than a beautiful cage.

What you accept,
what you let press its weight against your bones,
it cracks you open,
stretching your spine towards a brutal freedom.

The light gets sharper the deeper you go,
splitting skin, unraveling narratives.
You grow only as far as you dare to fall,
not down, but inward.

A heartbeat in the distance,
once a symphony,
now fractured notes dissolving in air.
Fingers once laced,
like threads weaving worlds,
are loose, and the wind,
whispers goodbye between the gaps.

You were the sun at midnight,
the impossible touch of light,
in places I didn't know could bloom,
but time turned you into a shadow,
fading slow,
leaving nothing but echoes of your warmth.

The road we carved,
marked by laughter and silent promises,
cracks and crumbles beneath the weight of absence.
Each step forward drags the ghost of your smile,
a tether to something no longer there,
but not yet gone.

I hold you,
not in flesh,
but in memory's restless dream,
where your voice still lingers,
on the edge of a word,
that never fully lands.

How can love be lost?
It sits in the marrow,
a fire never truly extinguished,
just misplaced in the night.
Yet the heart learns its new rhythm,
the silence becomes a new kind of music,
and love lost, but not forgotten,
rests somewhere deep,
beneath the skin of the stars.

The truth, a mirror so clear and deep,
Where shadows hide, where secrets sleep.
It calls to us, like winds through trees,
Whispering softly, "Come, be free."

But freedom, friend, is never light,
It asks for courage, asks for sight.
For in this glass, what do we see?
Our flaws, our fears, our frailty.

Yet truth is kind, though hard to hold,
A fire that cleanses, bright and bold.
It strips away the masks we wear,
Reveals the soul, both pure and bare.

To grow, we must not turn and flee,
From all we are, from all we see.
For growth is born from truth embraced,
Not from the lies we chase in haste.

The heart expands when it can face,
Its own mistakes, its own disgrace.
And in that knowing, there's a grace,
That leads us to a higher place.

For strength is found not in denial,
But in the honesty of the trial.
The more we accept, the more we learn,
Through pain, through joy, through fires we burn.

And those who grow are those who stay,
Who do not flinch or run away.
For they have learned that to be whole,
Requires a reckoning with the soul.

So stand before that mirrored truth,
Embrace your age, embrace your youth.
For only then can you ascend,
And find the strength to rise, to mend.

The deeper you look, the more you'll find,
The growth of heart, the growth of mind.
In truth, there lies the power to be,
Unbroken, boundless, and truly free.

Each day is a canvas, a story untold,
Where moments of wonder in silence unfold.
One day, a café where whispers are heard,
Sipping on dreams, not saying a word.

The next, a long walk beneath skies of blue,
Breathing in life as the earth welcomes you.
Friends fill the air with their laughter and grace,
While novels call softly to a quietened space.

One day, you conquer, with focus and might,
The next, break the rules, let indulgence take flight.
Junk food and laughter, with no guilt to hide,
For life is a journey, enjoy every ride.

A day with your family, where love is the feast,
Sharing your stories, where joy is increased.
Then retreat to your boards, where dreams take their form,
Imaginary worlds where creativity’s warm.

For as long as the sun in the heavens shall rise,
Let each morning greet you with endless surprise.
Put on your best, feel the world in your sway,
And make every moment your favourite day.

In twilight's gentle, hushed embrace, I muse,
Upon a truth, profound, yet oft confused,
"When you change the way you look at things,"
A whisper in the breeze, a truth that sings.

In quiet moments, by the fire's warm glow,
I ponder on this wisdom, let it grow,
For as I turn my gaze to yonder skies,
The very stars seem different in my eyes.

Once, they were distant, cold, and far apart,
But now, they're dreams, each one a work of art,
In shifting thoughts, a new perspective is born,
The heavens, once remote, now feel adorned.

When change befalls the lens through which we see,
The world transforms, a wondrous tapestry,
No longer mere, mundane, or commonplace,
But filled with grace, a dance of time and space.

The meadows bloom with colours yet unseen,
Each blade of grass, a world, a living dream,
The river's flow, a symphony of grace,
In every ripple, secrets interlace.

"When you change the way you look at things,"
A truth profound, in whispered wisdom, sings,
For in the alchemy of mind and sight,
The ordinary turns to pure delight.

So, let us not be prisoners of the past,
But with new eyes, this world anew we'll cast,
And as we do, the universe may range,
To show us beauty, in the subtle change.

There is a voice that doesn't use words. Listen.
It whispers in the rustle of leaves,
In the pause between a heartbeat,
In the quiet hum of dawn before the world awakens.

It's a song that stirs the soul,
Soft as the breath of a sleeping child,
Yet vast as the ocean's endless call.

This voice is ancient, older than time,
Born from the stars and the dust of the earth.
It carries the wisdom of ages untold,
A knowing beyond the clamour of thought.

A truth that lives beneath the surface,
Of all that we see, and all we pretend to know.
It speaks in the dance of the wind,
In the stillness of twilight.

When the day sighs into night,
And shadows stretch long across the land.
It is in the eyes of the old and the innocent,
In the spaces between the lines of a love letter,
Or the quiet ache of a heart mending slowly.

This voice cannot be grasped,
It cannot be chased or claimed.
It comes when the mind is silent,
When the heart surrenders its restlessness.

It rises in the moments when you are,
No longer seeking, but simply being.
When the soul listens with more than ears,
For there are languages older than words.

Songs written in the pulse of life itself,
And if you listen, truly listen;
You will hear it: the voice of the universe,
Calling you home.
To a place where words fall away,
And all that remains is knowing.

Your mind, a canvas vast and wide,
Paints the world with thoughts inside.
It searches far, it seeks the clues,
To prove the stories that you choose.

If shadows speak, "No light for me,"
Your mind will find the dark to see,
And every cloud, and every storm,
Will only serve to reinforce this norm.

But whisper soft, "Hope finds a way,"
And watch how dawn transforms the day.
Your mind, like soil, will nurture seeds,
Of brighter thoughts, of kinder deeds.

For in the garden of the soul,
What you believe will shape the whole.
So plant with care, and tend with grace,
The thoughts that bloom will fill your space.

The power's yours, with each new breath,
To choose belief, to conquer death.
Of dreams once lost, or hopes turned gray,
For your own thoughts will light the way.

So speak with wisdom, mind your voice,
For what you tell it shapes your choice.
In every word, in every line,
The proof you seek is yours to find.

A pulse beneath skin-raw,
a symphony of friction,
silent notes igniting,
unwritten, but felt.
Fingers trace electric rivers,
veins pulsing to the rhythm of need.

Sweat slicks the edges of memory,
lips unlearn what's been spoken,
our bodies becomes language,
where words are too clumsy to reach.

In the space between breath and release,
something breaks, something blooms,
old wounds, wounds no one touched,
heal in the friction.
Not the kind of healing you can bottle
or bless with holy water
this, the alchemy of skin and surrender,
the way hips speak in tongues
when the body writes its own scripture.

Here, love is less tender,
more molten,
shattering the cold stars
that once burned inside your bones.
This is a healing that doesn't ask permission
it claims, it devours, it demands
the undoing of all shame.

Feel it.
The rhythm is louder than your heartbeat now.

The stone in the road, sharp-edged, scraping the soles,
is it burden, or a shift in the wind?
A scream might rise, teeth bared against fate,
but listen closely, in its echo is the sound of wings.

The earth turns slow,
gravel underfoot bruises the skin,
but that sting, that ache,
is the pulse of the universe saying, Move.

The fall is not the breaking;
it is the breath that finds your lungs anew,
as you turn and twist into directions
you had never dreamed,
the unseen galaxies in your bones waking up.

The obstacle is the heartbeat of change,
a violent push, a whisper in disguise,
hurling you to a horizon you hadn’t thought to reach.
What you thought was in the way was only clearing it.

In the quiet chambers of the heart,
Where love once bloomed, you find your part,
A tender place where memories sing,
Of someone who was everything.

But trying to forget, to erase, to sever,
Is not the task, nor now, nor ever.
For in the marrow of what was shared,
Is a beauty that lingers, a love once declared.

You don’t sanitize the wounds of time,
Or clip the edges of the climb.
No, you cradle the ache, the jagged thorn,
For in its presence, you were reborn.

Let the pain rest where it may,
It teaches in a quiet way.
The love that once felt like the air,
Is not erased, though you may no longer share.

Sometimes life moves with a heavier hand,
And you must lay down what you planned.
You walk away, not in defeat,
But knowing some roads will never meet.

The heart grows too big, desires too far,
And you must follow your own star.
It’s okay to leave, to let go, to release,
For in that, too, there’s quiet peace.

Though you thought forever was in the weave,
There’s grace in knowing when to leave.
To accept, to walk, to quietly part,
Is to honor the depth of your own heart.

I hope you find people in this life who make you feel like you are meant to be here...

Like roots tangled beneath concrete cities,
like hands that hold without words,
there are moments when the world splits open,
and you glimpse the sanctuary hidden in the chaos.

It's in the tilt of a smile,
in the pulse of laughter
that echoes in your bones
and says, "You were always meant to stay."

These are the people who carry your name
like a mantra on their tongues,
their presence a quiet rebellion
against the loneliness that creeps like fog.

They are the ones who make the sky more breathable,
who stitch together your ragged edges with nothing more
than a glance, a word, a touch of unspoken truth.

You belong here,
not because you bent yourself to fit their corners,
but because you filled the space only you could fill,
a constellation all your own,
and they saw it in you
long before you saw it in yourself.

I also hope you find this in yourself too...

There will be days when you look in the mirror
and all you see are fractures
shards of who you thought you should be,
the jagged pieces of an endless "almost."

But let me tell you:
even in the wreckage, you are whole.
Even in the broken light,
you are the brightest thing
the universe has ever known.

You don't need their validation to bloom,
but oh, how beautiful it is
when you find those who water your roots,
who whisper, "Stay,"
who remind you that the soil was always enough.

You are enough.
You belong,
exactly as you are.