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Àŧùl Jul 17
Decoding Her Reply

I text her, “I Love You, Missy.
Do you love me too?”
She replies,
“In a particular language,
I want you dead is coded as wv bl dy rr
My love is eternal is coded as vg rh ol nb
You are very sweet is coded as hd ev zi bl
I hate you stupid is coded as hg bl sy rr
She pauses, as if for an eternity, before continuing,
“In that language, my answer is,
gl bl ol rr
You decode it, lover boy.”

Now what does she mean???
My HP Poem #1952
©Atul Kaushal
I S A A C Oct 2021
to be frank, I never cared for fall
not enamoured by the warm-hued leaves riding the winds as they fall
to the ground where they crunch
too cold for my old mimosa littered brunch
the rain also won’t stop
who could claim this season and for what reason?
I miss the sunlight and the warm embrace of the wind
I miss the stressless summer bliss
instead, here I am racking my head, studying for exams
hoping I can just get back again
to kayaking in the blue, wearing my swim trunks like a tattoo
instead, here I am racking my head, swimming in the deep end
will I drown who knows, thank god I love to idle and float
or else I would be meeting Moby **** when the depression hits
mocha May 2021
i feel as if everything is on it's brink
things keep turning, a preventative measure
it's not enough to lessen the pressure
and honestly if it were to tip and fall
perhaps i just wouldn't care at all
just get it over and done with man
MARS May 2021
The young lad
Studies through the dawn.
Sifting through pages
across the morning yawn

Wearily, he gazes through his glasses.
He tumbles somehow through the day
Trying, to understand the
Kinetic Theory of Gases.

When, oh when? Will it end?
His onerous rite of waking up
And studying, despite
Being worn out on the inside,

Keeps him afloat among the wreck.
When the world is sinking
Into an abyss
He is happy to just, be.

Yes he is,
To be on the verge of sanity,
To barely hold on to humanity,
To wake up, every morning.

For the situation outside is far worse.
While men lose their loved ones and
Moan in grief,
Happy he is; to study, and sleep.
This poem was written by MARS taking into consideration the pains of a student, who studies without knowing whether his exams would be held or not, who takes infinite pains to memorize the dreaded formulae just so he can score well, and set himself up in life. This is to all the students out there.
pandemoniac Mar 2021
lofi hip hop decorates my brain
notebook formulaic and profane
anxiety seeps my malleable mind
latching onto anything it finds.
wrote this to procrastinate
maria Feb 2021
1.Writing poems for you
Written somewhere between 10 to 18 of Febuary, 2021
© ,Maria
maria Feb 2021
I should study
but honestly,
even you, fool,
make more sense than this
trust me, there's no sense in you
Written on Febuary 19, 2021
© ,Maria
maria Feb 2021
So much to study
and here I am
writing poems
for you,
14 febuary 2021
© ,Maria
maria Feb 2021
writing poems for you

Written on Febuary 14, 2021
© ,Maria
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