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LN May 2014
I know your heart beats for her.
I can hear it from all the way over here,
but it doesn't sound as beautiful
as the way mine beats for you.
-
LN May 2014
When a seed germinates,
It needs several conditions to initiate its growth
but a flower is different.
A flower only yearns for rain to cover its drooping petals
and sunlight to embrace it from every corner.
As I grow up,
Material objects become useless.
Only certain people matter,
and being able to hold them tight
would be the best birthday gift ever.
its my birthday and i feel like crap because those i want here are so far away.
LN May 2014
If I ever crash and burn,
it is your face that'll appear in the flames
in the form of all regrets
that annihilated my existence.
i was inspired.
LN May 2014
Don't shame young girls
who want to express their lives
in metaphors and mellifluous poetry.
They perceive words
as fireflies that shine
on their lonely nights
and it makes them feel alive.
Let them be.
I read somewhere that people shame young girls over their love of poetry and their attempt to compare themselves to 'storms' or whatever. It's not fair. Everyone copes in a different way, and shaming someone for something that they like makes you horrible. Plus, it's poetry! People should express as they like.
LN May 2014
I've been struggling to write.
My mind cannot quite decipher
what my heart feels.
Not all cracks in the pavement
have cultivated life along their destruction
so please bear with me
as I gather what is necessary
of words, and of love
to fill in the gaps inside.
meh
  May 2014 LN
Soumia
I will not let the blood of my ancestors
to be shed in vain
Where they have fought for our freedom
yet my generation are quiet

I will not let westernization
ruin my soul and tatter my traditions
I will not let the westernized beauty
blind me from my culture’s beauty

I will not let the blood of my ancestors
to be shed in vain
Where they have fought for the earth that is now free
the earth where my soul thrives on

I will not let the television
brainwash my perception of spirituality and religion
to make me question that who I am
is wrong

I will not let these white-washed books
to create gaps in my history
I will not let the blood of my ancestors
to be shed in vain
LN May 2014
I have grown accustomed to the way
silence forced itself upon my social interactions
like a guest who wasn't invited
but was let in anyway.

My eyes have memorised the dents
on these four walls
that I could draw infinitely
on maps of this bare surface.

Pencils have worn out,
I'm running low on graphite
so my life decides to turn itself
into the same shade of gray
that I use to write about it.

Books are doors to another world
but their handles have broken,
"Help!" I screamed,
I am locked into this lonely reality.

A social life
filled with ghosts,
blank-faces,
and empty souls.

Nothing to give ,
Nothing to receive.
My social life atm
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