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Anoosha Zaib Apr 26
Sometimes we should be like rain, offering life to every living thing.
Sometimes we should smile, so that our soul feels pleased.
Sometimes we should cry, so that our soul feels pleased.
Sometimes we should help others, so that our soul feels pleased.
Sometimes we should forgive others,so that our soul feels pleased.
Sometimes we should forgive ourselves, so that our soul feels pleased.
Sometimes we should speak ,so that our soul feels pleased.
Sometimes we should remain silent , so that our soul feels pleased.
Sometimes we should appreciate our sacrifices,so that our soul feels pleased.
Sometimes we should break our commitments,so that our soul feels pleased.
Sometimes we should enjoy our lonely company, so that our soul feels pleased.
Sometimes we should forget ourselves in hard work, to let our soul breathe anew.



Sometimes we should take a long breath , and forget who we are,
And move on,
Like the sun that sets, yet always returns,
So our soul may rise in peace once more
A reminder that  in every tear, smile and silence, there is a path to inner peace
Behind a locked door, there lies a child

You hear the sound of quiet crying as you look at their red face,

Their fever coming to a boil,

Their skin clammy and aching

Their throat so sore it makes no noise

They look into your eyes and
You see defeat,

the wish to scream never coming true

Their eyes turning into a swirl of black nothingness, it almost swallows you hole
I have been getting sick on and off severally for years. It seems every-time I do it is a constant uphill battle not to become extremely depressed as I’m isolated in pain and can’t take care of myself. I used to be a lot worse spiraling crying for anyone to care but after being shown so many times it doesn’t really matter I have almost come to be okay with the loneliness that being an adult on your own has created. But today, I feel that screaming child wanting anyone to hold me and being reminded there is no one to.
Lostling Apr 20
There is a child
Who follows everywhere I go.
Late at night I hear him crying,
Yet my family stirs not.

When he cries,
I’m bound in a straightjacket,
stitched with silence
and the things I don’t know how to say.

I tell him to stop,
But he never listens.
So I muffle his sobs with a pillow
And hide him beneath my blanket

Sometimes he comes out during the day
Wailing for all the world to hear.
I tape his mouth shut
And wait until his tears won't be seen
Crying too much these days
Immortality Apr 12
"Will I make it?"
the heart cries.

A thousand tries,
yet I fall.

"Should I lower my expectations?"
it whispers.

"No, it's not over until you win,"
the mind insists,
like night cradles the sky;
light will come soon.
To those chasing their dreams, remember: there's always light at the end of the tunnel for those who remain true to their hard work and dedication.
Andy Mann Apr 4
The voices dwell deep in my mind
You are nobody
You are useless
You know nothing.
Beaten down,
Brought to my knees,
Gasping for air,
I cannot breathe.
I believe.
But this belief sows my destruction
I weep for the dead
Great but now fed
To the worms in the dust
The dust I will join
Sooner than I think.
What good am I among these?

I have wasted the reservoir of time
In sin, in doubt, in fear
Fear of what I left undone.
Where do I go from here?
The voices came calling again.

But I cannot continue like this.
I give up or shut up.
Shut up and act.
Act and believe.

Even if that belief is beyond reason
Beyond my mind to comprehend
The words of a lunatic.

I am greatness personified
if I believe
I am the master of my own universe
if I believe.

I am the king of dust, not its minion
And I will return to my kingdom
When I am done
But not today.
This poem was written during a moment of deep internal struggle. It’s about the voice in the mind that tells us we are nothing—and the quiet resistance that rises in spite of it.
It's inspired by Walt Whitman's “O Me! O Life!”.
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.
Ankush Mar 16
They ask,
How can I live?

And say,
They could not.

I laugh
and they laugh along.

Some days after,
They ask again,
How can I survive?

And say,
They wouldn't be able to.

I laugh again,
So they laugh along.

Now I ask myself,
How cursed am I?
& I let myself
Cry.

And when they ask again,
I just smile.
When I was 6 , my family found out that I have a disease called celiac disease or for short gluten/ wheat allergy , so basically I can't eat anything made from wheat , my lifestyle and diet is very different from those in my country, I am cut off from eating every thing outside.
So for ten years I have been constantly asked by my friends , cousins and sometimes very close friends , they joke , they ask , they pity , they sympathise , and they ask how can I live.
I don't know if it should have been me more tough to laugh and laugh again on the same question over and over again.
Gideon Mar 8
Strength is not a raging river or a roaring tiger.
Strength is bravery in small, significant things.
Even the smallest things can be significant.
Importance is not decided by money or popularity.
It is chosen by value, meaning, and purpose.
We are not brought into this world only to consume.
We are given the strength to create and choose.
Choose strength every time you are given a choice.
The hardest decisions are the most important, and
Great heights are best seen from your lowest point.
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