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The places I’ve visited and then left
Only to revisit to know more
The experience of the untouched untapped resource

For some it comes easy
Some struggle the ****
Pushing and pulling, the invisible doors

Then on a rainy day
Wait for the clouds while they pour
Filled with dreams of paddy fields
An experience of abundance
And some more
Akriti Aug 2020
Ink soaked in despise and despair,
thoughts bewildered and perplexed.

Parched soul,
a distinctive flair.

Faint and feeble brightness,
an outstanding dazzled affair.

Stitched up hopes,
with an astounding glare.
This piece of poem reflects my current state of mind; disorderliness, inexpressibility.
Bill Higham Mar 2016
All my words fail, out here on the edge,
In cataracts pronunciations plunge
Onto the rocks of shattered sounds,
The meanings call and drag,
Unable to explain the inexpressible you,
The mental scraps congeal,
The ten thousand half-attempted lines
All erring, marred,
All leaving me here alone again
In the insurmountable anguish of love.

— The End —