this past summer he took it from me
i didn't even realize it was something i wanted to lose
it was nothing like what i read in books
because i know those characters did not bruise
he was so sweet before i agreed to it
i genuinely thought the he cared for me
but i guess he just played me like i tried to play him
he promised it would help set me free
so i lost it, i gave into his sweet words
his purring and alluring speeches
in school they make you swear to say no
what to do when you say yes, is something no one teaches
so he took it because i let him
and i did not even begin to cry
it's not like he stole it from me
but thinking he would return it, that's a lie

Tell me something about you
Something nobody else knows
Show some truths
Reveal to me your soul
Don't make it too obvious
Hide your secrets within ink
Not too long and not too short
But make me think
Make me guess
Help me to understand
Write out your dark confessions
And I'll be your biggest fan

Here I am contemplating life and death because
I often write poems that are sad
They come from my anger, my hatred, my pain...
But often enough, good things come from the bad

I write of my miserable existence
And of how I long to be held in your embrace
Of what lies ahead and what was left behind
I write about how many things are usually replaced

My poetry is brewed, so to speak I suppose
In this head of mine, where i think and ponder
Where I lust and desire and want and wish
And where to thoughts of you I tend to wander

So here I am, still writing of the sorrow
Hoping somehow these words will change your mind
I am writing a poem that isn't sad, to simply prove
I may not be normal, but I'm the normalest you'll find

/
Many days
I do not read any newspaper
Even do not see television
At all
Many days have gone
After You
I do not read any poetry

How to feel that since this morning!
Repeatedly hear identifying tunes on the air

Your arrival in the sky,
The air reverberates
Looks like another day
In the Paradise,
In another song,
Which brings the soul
The Aroma

Everyone is coming out
From all sides
Young Old
Babies Boys
Women Men
Everyone
Everyone is clapping
Singing the song of the same tune
This song is not the song of Rain
Not even a lamentation

The Southern breeze whispering your words
Slowly Said,
The Little Tailor Bird
No, No,
Not such a summer afternoon
Not even a hurricane warning

Each of the human eye
Follow the Eastern Sky  
Tireless Eye
Watching the sun,
The Red Sun,
You went to bring dreams for us
From the Sun

Hundreds of thousands of people
In his next question
Hand with Flower
Shoulder to Shoulder
Today will be the day of strangers,
The poet will come
We are standing in the flowers
Fist full of dreams to take

Float in the sky with white clouds
My dreams are calling again
Today is not such an Autumn
But Still feel like an Autumn
Indeed,  
The poet will come,
A poem in the New

Where each word will be spoken dream
Love to be evacuated
Poems that will repay
The debt to my Ancestor
Take revenge on thee
For their injustice,
Torture
Poems that would bring the stars
For our next generation
A poem that would bring the red rose for my darling,
Would bring such a smile to my mother's face
As Moon that smile
And that is simply killed false dreams
Will we ever Released
Sing Freedom Songs

The Poet,
My beloved Poet
You will come,
Will surely come
And will recite your immortal poem
/

@ Musfiq us shaleheen

I cannot cleanse my soul
     until I remove the filth

I cannot mend my heart
     until I remove the hate

I cannot live my future
     until I remove my past

I cannot breathe in peace
     until I remove **myself