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Grasping my pen, i ground myself.
I start to breathe as the nib glides across the canvas.
The ink drops, forming lines, curves & more,
Breathing life into the paper,
My heart starts to beat,
giving me a sense of life.
As i form,
Letters into words,
Words into sentences,
Sentences into paragraphs,
As i try to graph, illusions into reality.
Trying to cling on,
To the little glimer of HOPE,
That you provide me NOW & THEN.
Sometimes i close my eyes Just to get a glimpse of your memory as it gives me hope.
Sovit Pokhrel Jun 27
Does normal have a definition ?
Or
Is it all, just perception ?
Quit forcing your opinion on others.
whats normal for you might not be for them.
Live and let live.
Sovit Pokhrel Jun 21
There is a paragraph of emotion,
That i hide,
Behind every "good morning" i text.

There is a paragraph of emotion,
That i hide,
Behind every "good night" i text.

Sometimes i wish,
We could express without words,
Just so you could hear,
All that i fear,
And why i hide,
My paragraph of emotion.
Expressing has never been easy for me.
Just too scared the person at the other end might not feel the same.
why is this feeling associated with fear???
Sovit Pokhrel Jun 19
Somedays,
I can still smell,
The scent of your perfume.
Somedays,
I can still feel,
A sense of your presence.

Someday,
Maybe i'll realise,
Why i keep telling these lies.
Till then, i'll just,
close my eyes,
keep searching,
Where the answer,
To our questions lies.
Some memories with some people are just too good to let go.
I dive into the pool of emotions,
Scavenging for expressions.
Hunting them haunting thoughts,
Plucking out the ripe ones
Pouring everything into a vessel,
I Shake, stir & muddle.
Finally, i serve thee,
The soul cocktail.
I feel like poetry is a soul served like a dish.
Different people prepare it in different styles.
Different people prefer it in different styles.
Here i how i prepare my poetry.
Three simple ingredients,
Soul, emotion and expression.
Today i was in the mood for some cocktails.
I fell for you.
I fell, in love.
I failed you.
I failed, in love.
Maybe love is like walking.
We fall & we learn,
we get up and we move on,
Eventually learning to love.
Sovit Pokhrel May 28
Clattering of the rain,
On my window pane.
Chattering of the mind,
Desperately hoping to unwind.

Pouring everything upon me,
Flodding me with memories.

Drowning in the puddle,
Of my own emotions.
Frowning on my own thoughts.

Here i am,
Talking to the rain.
There is something in the rain.
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