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 Jan 2018 Sharina Saad
diary
Unseen ****** deep green eyes perfect disguise to compete with your mirror eyes, the question is who had the purest tear to make dust look clear.
 Jan 2018 Sharina Saad
Star BG
Snow
 Jan 2018 Sharina Saad
Star BG
..Inside the quiet
of early morning snow,
one can sense a serene quiet.

Cars sit motionless,
covered with coat of crystallize beauty.
An occasional dog barks
leaving foot prints molded on street.
Clanking heat rises
whispering with musical warmth.

A grand time to roll over
and go back to sleep.
Putting plans to shovel
on hold with a peaceful smile..
 Jan 2018 Sharina Saad
ryn
I’m learning to walk again...

It’s been awhile since
the earth consumed my knees
and I had seen myself breathing in mud.

I’ve struggled,
thrashed about
and broken what little I had.

I’m learning to walk again...

It’s been awhile since
I’ve lost myself.
It’s been ages since
I knew where to begin.

I’ve risen,
fallen...
Risen again
and again
fuelled by
what little hope I have left.

I’m learning to walk again...*

It’s been awhile since
I found myself
flourishing in the warmth of day
and consoled by the comfort of night.

I’ve lived through many hours...
And I wish to survive my many more...
With what little strength I have left.
Inspired by Foo Fighter’s “Walk”.
 Jan 2018 Sharina Saad
ryn
The radio sung me a tune.
A tune made for me.
It was played soft.
It told me a story.

The melody that accompanied,
resonated with every chord.
Every word that I had heard,
struck home like a sharpened sword.

I thought, “Could it have been for me?”
Just when the tune ended.
“Is it so that I am that apparent?
For such a song to be written and dedicated.”


But I am a fool...
For thinking I am worth the scrutiny.
While being neck-deep,
in an ocean -
unalone with others plenty.
 Jan 2018 Sharina Saad
ryn
To forget what sand had stirred
in the dark of night.

To empty the dregs left stagnant
of yesterday’s wine.

To see as though through lenses
brand new.

To discard the tethers that had
bound us tight, skin to spine.
You know those talented Poets,
the ones that perform vanishing acts
Just like a ghost

Wonder why those poets
up and left HP?
Did they find a place better?
Did they find a place more
lovely?

Perhaps they lost their muse,
their pen, their flow
Or perhaps they await for spring
when beautiful things begin
to grow

Well anyway, I just wish to say
I miss those talented poets
Whose every word turns into
glittering gold
Some very talented poets are missing
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