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 Jun 2015 Nessa dieR
Parnini
I am not beautiful...
        I am choked up tears, cover-up smiles
        the kind of light that turns you blind
        from having too less or more than enough.

I am not beautiful...
        I am scratched out scars, burnt out heart
        the kind of storm that wrecks up lives
        creeping stealthily through the night.

I am not beautiful...
        I am not your quintessential girl
        the kind that walks with a perfect stance
        swaying waist of 26" and pretty face all made up

I am not beautiful...
      I am edges and curves, messy hair and everything you *never
dreamt of
       The kind that repulses you by skin, and attracts you by mind
       Someone you'll never know because. . .


I am not beautiful.
Ok. So this is a tribute to all the girls out there who feel inferior in some way or the other to someone else because of their looks. Who crouch up infront of a mirror singling out every pimple, every scar, every curve of cellulite wishing em away.

No, I'm not going to say you're beautiful. I'm not going to say those girls you stalk on instagram and facebook are plastic dolls. I will say, it's okay. Its okay if you're not pretty. It's okay because at the end of the day there is always going to be someone better, smarter, kinder, prettier than you. Its okay because nobody has it all. Its okay because there are other things you have. You could be a writer, a poet, a dancer, a stand up comedian, a cartoonist... heck, anything!

The world these days is obsessed with made up faces. It categories humans into ugly and beautiful then says the only thing that's true is inner beauty. **** that. You don't need that. Its okay to be you. Being beautiful isn't everything. It's okay to be not beautiful.

Hugs and love,
P
.
..
The dream was broken in transit
with an ant's bite
thought,
the rest of the part in another night,
in another dream
but that didn't happen

Then one day
at the last bus of the night,
I saw her with someone
Not in a dream rather in the reality  

She got to the next stop
I called out,
She left with a mystic smile,
disappeared within the shadows

Then  didn't go anymore
I missed the bus or the bus left me  
Either couldn't went back to home
Or not to go any other place in front  
.......

.
..
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
....
When your dreams and reality both lost in transit then you have no way to move/ This is the reality of millions of people who lost their both ways ( dreams and reality) but there is still a reality and that is noway..
...  
....
if like please share/comment/ repost.
Thank you for reading my poem.

....
...
~
he who is a little ahead of his time
whose treasures of the words random
romanticism is in the blood, marrow,
his mood is as the autumn clouds

he who has lost his path within path
drowning with dreams, sunk you within dreams  
again holds thousands of lost dreams
fly the colorful kites in the blue sky

he who hide within himself
**** in his naked poetry
In forms humorous,harmonic  
as a portrait of the Vincent's starry night

he is a pilgrim who has lost himself within spirituality  
holds everything with the love  
who is for everybody so everybody is for him
But in fact there is nothing in all his

he who is simple straight as the waterfall
when in complex grew hard stone
who broke rules for building rules,
knows himself within the other life

whose words never be end
again he moves on and on
who laughs in the moonlight
again swept in pain without thinking any gain

who looks the life
as a grain of sand
and see the sign of love
in the footprint of a fossil

he who is a poet -
~
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