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Every day is a concussion,
                where I feel that
my thoughts are suffering
                    from blunt force trauma.

Slumped within the confines
                                     of self..
Blood vessels burst in a rainbow
              of fluctuation and I think
                                 was it all worth it.

Should I have let that last thought

Instead of getting up again and again...

Realising that after the first reaction I should
have stayed down ,Succumbing to the

That I could be what I wanted, what I thought
                 I could become. I was like a flower,

Dying before it blossomed..
                          And all that was left
                              was dead memories
crushed before they could even show
                                            there beauty.

                Now just wilted dreams becoming nightmares.
Matthew 5d
It's falling to the ground
by little.
Giving itself
to us all.
Pink Blossoms
in the
dark night
blowing away to tomorrow.
A poem I feel is about death.
Go back to sleep!

If you can't hear nature's song playing the music of love every new day, with every new dawn, new sunrise and a fresh moon smile,
Go back to sleep!

If you can't make your heart a Mecca for the freedom seekers, your spirit a temple for the suffering souls and your mind a spring well of innovative ideas,
Go back to sleep!

If you can't hear the cry of the iconic figure of the starving Yemeni child 'Amal Hussein', as she was shedding her last tear, taking her last breath, and whispering her last prayer,
Go back to sleep!

If you can't spare a holy dish to fill the empty stomachs, if you
can't spare a kind word to help sooth other’s pain and color their lives with the rainbow hues of hope and happiness,
Go back to sleep!

If you can't be the soul of your place, the tsunami of positive change and a part of the spring of humanity that will blossom
with a new future full of hope, love and inspiration,
Go back to sleep!

Hussein Dekmak
Manan sheel Jan 23
When heart melts,
mind is bewildered.

This is the time,
when the flowers blossom.

This is the time,
when love sends melodies,
to you and to everyone.

These are the moments,
when you have to sing,
and take care that the
song, and melody
inside you doesn't get old,
and not take rust.

Please sing with happiness
then, for the universe looks
at you then, with eager eyes,
and waits for your song...

© Manan sheel.
Poetic T Jan 6
I couldn't find the pocket knife
in my pocket, I wanted to etch
                 us in eternity forever.
Our names growing in time but
that was never meant to happen.

I planted seeds that never grew,
one was for me the other for you.
Wanting us to blossom over time
        but all that flourished was
time that never really grew.

How could you never see the space
             that was between us separate.
Even though we were inseparable
          we were couldn't reach to
                                  touch the other.

I planted seeds that couldn't  grow,
one was for me the other for you.
Wanting us to blossom over time
        but all that flourished was
time that stood between what grew.

But when I look at you
      and your gaze back at me.
I know that it doesn't take
                         words etched
or for a flower to blossom
to show the connection between us is real.
I couldn't find my pocket knife,
so I kissed you and love grew from that
to what we are and this is us me and you.

Why wouldn't the moments stay
with us, it passed like we weren't
even in the same time zone.
when I wanted you the phone was

"This is the answer phone of my life leave a message,

But you never got back to me?
               Are we still that message on a tree,
               one never etched but meant to be.
Edward Dec 2018
I must go.
As I turn, I see,
Hidden by my eye,
A blossom.
A beautiful, fragile blossom.
But the tree is dying.
I must go.
Masha Yurkevich Dec 2018
Love knows no seasons.
Love knows no time.
Love can blossom at anytime.
Wai Phyo Win Dec 2018
Alone at home busy
Where is she?
Duty is duty
No one around me

Pouring water; plants and lawn
Washing floor with the pump
Blossoming flowers remind me bygone
They used to run and jump

Yellow flowers were eaten by rabbits
Two whites and one black
They forgot missing two, memory habit
Of the rest -  brain's bank

Missing one was pragnant, Oh so sad,
Wish you were hidding in burrow
Where you dug near the shad
Not a dog bit it up to hollow

Miss you the everytime I feed
Green fresh water spinach leaves
Only the rest three came to eat
Where do you leave? Where do you leave?
cursedreveries Dec 2018
along the flowery streets
she danced—lightly,

celestially blossomed
to the nines.

i stood—silently,

(magically blossomed
to cloud nine.)
forgot to share this due to busy life. basically someone being so in love.
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