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Lalit Kumar Apr 1
When the sorrow you kept inside starts to burn in a cigarette,
When a genius of science starts writing poems,
And when someone who never listens to anyone starts listening to poems,

With a laptop bag on my shoulder,
Far from home, in a strange city, at a station,
When I see a child crying in his mother’s lap,
I smile and remember my own home,
That’s when life makes sense.

When sleep gets lost in the dark pits under your eyes,
That’s when life makes sense.
When you face words like rent, ration, electricity, and water,
When a fearless heart begins to feel a little scared,
When the burden of home responsibilities starts weighing on your shoulders,
That’s when life makes sense.

When the one who once cried to get a toy,
Now smiles but takes the wounds,
When someone with a heart of stone is broken like a flower,
When someone more precious than life leaves you alone on the road,
That’s when life makes sense.

When making friends seems more difficult than staying alone,
When a dried rose kept in a diary feels more important,
When someone you see in the mirror feels like a stranger,
That’s when life makes sense.

When you want to cry but can’t,
When you grow so big that in the middle of family fights,
You stand firm and when someone asks, “Is everything okay?”
And you say, “Everything’s fine,”
That’s when life makes sense.

When the lie spoken by your lips
Is revealed as truth by someone’s eyes,
When the dreams of someone get devoured by the crowd around them,
When the silence in the room shouts loudly in your ears,
That’s when life makes sense.

When you realize that nothing is like the destination,
When you understand that there’s no destination like the one imagined,
There’s only the road, far and wide,
When the day doesn’t begin even after the sun rises,
When nothing works the way you want it to,
When a grand house has no one to call home,
That’s when life makes sense.

When the moon doesn't show the marks of aging,
When the moon doesn’t show the imperfections and stains,
When the tunes of songs fade into the words of the songs,
When the tears saved all day fall onto the pillow,
That’s when life makes sense.

When coming home on time in the evening seems right,
When the sorrow you kept inside starts to burn in a cigarette,
When a genius of science starts writing poems,
And when someone who never listens to anyone starts listening to poems,

That’s when life makes sense.
That’s when life makes sense.
Love, **** it, still doesn’t make sense.
cassandra Apr 1
and if one day
you decide to stop calling
i’ll still be leaving my phone
with the sound on
for the night
I speak the thoughts
that must be said
the ones my poet
has in her head.

Her pen has carved
emotion into my pages
her love and passion
her worries and rages.

Why must I always express,
the assortment of emotions
she always wants to suppress,
whenever she's under stress?

I figured out a solution,
that'll save me and every tree
all poetkind would love it...
did I mention that it's free?

It's called Hello Poetry!
🌳💖Gotta love HP! 💖🌳
What is love?
Oh, for me, it's a reflection.
Yes, a reflection of oneself.
It's a mirror that shows you the truth,
The meaning of real life.
It's a struggle filled with the puzzles of a loving heart.

Here, emotions burn, leaving ashes  behind.
An undying feeling, letting a soul wither.
The mind, an empty void is haunted by thousands of thoughts,
Ruining it with each passing second.
The feeling flows through each vein,
Like the sweetest nectar.

But once the same mirror breaks,
It becomes hard to breathe amid  millions of shattered pieces.
The heart forms scars that the soul fails to heal.
Here, the yearning comes to an end—
By a beautiful thing called love, which is a pure bliss, yet a complete misery.
Izzi Mar 29
Hi

You’re new here

I definitely didn’t expect you
I wish I had more time to prepare

As this is the first time I laid eyes on you
But somehow, now
You are everywhere

I’m not gonna take this too seriously
Because my heart just cannot bare

Another loss
Another another unforgettable loss

It just hurts
Way too ******* much

To care
Met someone new yall
a smile a whisper
what do we have here
so wide that
well it must hurt
pulling you from cheek to cheek
no no don't take it away
as soon as you do that
I wont have a reason
for a smile
let me see it close
so I may see it all
and if it attempts to run
I would love to
try to bring it back
with a whisper
I look at us,
this broken mess we've become,
and all I feel is anger—
anger that we were supposed to be a unit,
a team,
a family—
but we are nothing but pieces of something that doesn't exist anymore.
You failed me.
Each one of you.
I'm lost in the rubble of what we were,
in the emptiness you left behind
when you choose your own needs
over what we were supposed to share.
I try to remember the good days,
but I can't.
Every happy memory feels like a lie now,
a story I told myself to keep the pain at bay.
I envy the people who have real families,
who don't know the taste of hollow promises,
who never feel the ache of knowing
that the ones who are supposed to love you
are the ones who destroy you the most.
And you—
you with your empty words and broken actions—
you don't even see it,
do you?
How much you hurt me
by pretending that everything was okay
when it wasn't.
You still don't get it.
You still don't care.
And the anger builds up,
like fire in my chest,
raging against the truth I've had to swallow:
We will never be whole again.
You broke us.
And I hate you for it.
Maria Etre Mar 28
Sleep
only
- robs me -
of
your
presence
Mivel Mar 28
Season dies to welcome the anew
And I witness
How this door begins to rust, collecting dust
Still, I traverse

The sun smiled at me that day
Too bright, it Bestow me some solace
But the door are too grotesque
Too conspicuous, they frightened me

Is it time to unveil what lies within?
To fall into the abyss of inner turmoil
That I've locked into the deepness of my *****
But the moment I transcribed them into words,
It became the truth.

Be honest. Be honest.
Andrew Mar 27
You talked about leaving like it was just another errand,
like it was something you had to do—
not something you wanted.
Not something that would leave me standing here,
watching the space you used to fill.

I used to love space.
The vastness, the quiet,
the way it stretched on forever without needing anything back.
But now the stars remind me of you—
always there, always distant,
never mine.

I tell myself I was just passing through your life,
like a comet burning bright before fading.
Maybe I was never meant to matter.
Maybe you never even noticed I was there.

And still—
I hate that I miss you.
I hate that after all this time,
one short message can make my whole day.
I hate that you will never know.
And I hate that even if you did,
it wouldn’t change a thing.
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