Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tughral Khan Aug 2019
We're living in pain and it's such a pity,
But no one cares enough for my city,

Lords of doom keep ******* its belly,
We’re human, you demons, you’re bleeding my alley,

Save us from evil, we don't complain,
Please let our cries not go in vain,

Karachi is out dry from cuts of corruption,
Please save its people from utter disruption,

Please help us Allah, we aren’t bad in behavior,
Imran Khan is the one, please make him our savior.
This poem was written on 11th Aug 2019 when a rain spell hit Karachi just a day before Eid Ul Azha, killing multiple people due to bad governance, corruption & incompetence of Provincial Government. This poem prays to Allah (SWT) to send help through Imran Khan who's Pakistan's one true leader.
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
I just watched a news report:
In southern Pakistan
a mother cries sitting on a hospital bed
watching over her malnourished daughter
who is laying in bed dying.
The mother sobs uncontrollably
as her 3 year old daughter
slumps after her last breath.
The child’s father
wraps his daughter’s limp body
in a blanket
and carries her out of the hospital room
in which scores of other malnourished children
lay dying.

I am left wondering:
Is there something we can do
to feed the malnourished children
in Pakistan
and around the world?
Noman Shafique May 2019
I want you. You want someone else.

Someone else wants someone else. Someone else wants someone else.Someone else wants someone else.Someone else wants someone else.Someone else wants someone else.Someone else wants someone else.Someone else wants someone else.Someone else wants someone else.Someone else wants someone else.Someone else wants someone else.Someone else wants someone else. Then someone else wants you. When someone step in your life. Till then someone else break your heart. And you get married to someone else. Someone else didn't care. Someone else had a life and move on. Someone else became alone. Someone else hate love. Someone else is no more.
Nida Mahmoed Mar 2019
Rose, Sunflower, and Lily
decided to get in a war train,
A sunflower was fearless and believes’ she can turn this journey into peace,
Rose was afraid to see everything red like her skin,
But a lily carries just pray with her fragrance,
A journey begins from Lahore,
People were rushed to get in the war train,
Lily asks Rose, Why they are in War train?
Rose says; I don’t know?
Lily was afraid,
She felt’ that her presence won’t change anything,
This train was on its way to Delhi,
Delhi, where people are already in a War train,
And Lahore to Delhi start believing that war is a solution,
But’ Solution of what?
The solution to destroy every rose, sunflower, and lily,
The solution to making every drop of water as poisoned,
The desire to see bloodshed,
The desire to stop playing children's in the parks,
The desire to not let grow a single crop in the soil of mother earth,
The desire to war for sake of war,
A solution comes from the songs of peace,
From the chances to let grow the roses, sunflowers, and lilies,
Swords, Bombs, Bullets, Jet planes and Nuke are not the solutions,
They are the end of all hope,
Hope to live in a love with a rose,
Hope to start a morning with a sunflower,
Hope to sleep with the pray as a beautiful lily,
But the question is who will stop this war train?
Many stations pass,
But none care to stop the war train,
And people of both side,
Just closed their eyes and souls
for nothing but for War,
They did not care; this war train is carrying the message of End,
But Rose, Sunflower, and Lily now knows, this is not their fault of believing,
It’s a fault of war train frenzy,
If this train won’t stop here
then each glimpse of life will be gone forever and ever!

By; Nida Mahmoed.
In this all war scenario between India and Pakistan, I penned down a poem. Poetry is a form of healing and it is scientifically proven now. Hope we two countries reach the point of solution soon and not let our children’s get in the war train.
Moji K Jan 2019
she was a person
not your honour
your pride
she begged you not to
but you burned her alive
there were tears in her eyes
when you snuffed her life out
and you sold your soul
when her light flickered out
her fear will be yours
on the day that you stand
a sinner before his Lord
she was a human
never yours to sacrifice
so cursed be your honour
and hollow be your pride
there is no honour in killing.
Sabila Siddiqui Nov 2018
An autoimmune of a nation,
why are you letting your wrath
stemmed from crisis
burst open like lysosomes?
Why do you digest
yourself and one of your own?
Don't you take pride
when the one who has the same
nation weaved on his skin
uplifts the wavering flag of your land?

Why would you mute
and suppress them
rather than water them,
like the beautiful nature that
blooms from your own ground?
Why would you steal
and harm your brothers and sisters,
letting your mentality succumb
to toxic-narrow confinements?
fs yousaf Sep 2018
My father used to bring home kites
from Pakistan,
made out of colorful paper
and thin sticks.

Mine was pink and blue,
and caught my eye as soon
as it was taken out.
It was beautiful,
and i imagined it soaring through
the skies,
viewable from all the houses in town.

The yarn was grey,
and had minuscule shards of glass
woven within it.
My father told me that it was for kite fighting,
the way they used to do it from the rooftops
of the villages.

One would fly the kite
and the other would be in charge of the spool.
Together, they would change altitudes
and attempt to cut other kite strings.
The last kite left in the air would be the winner.

And my mind would run to those rooftops,
the very sand ridden rooftops he had described.
Imaginarily controlling the kite
with a friend handling the spool behind me.
Together winning the kite fighter crown,
and my father being proud of his only son.

All while i lay in bed,
with a grand imagination,
and not a single clue
on how to make the last thought a reality.
Samreena Lodhi Mar 2018
Tears fell from the eyes,
and pain still rests in the hearts;
Blood shed from the bodies,
and voices arose from every soul;
people didn't get weak
and they moved for what they seek;
journey of thousand miles,
got completed on a single night;
the pain was a way to gain,
the Nation we call PAKISTAN.

by Samreena Lodhi
It was written last year as the Pakistan Day is on its way so sharing this porm here. 23rd March which gave us the hope of freedom.
Mystic904 Sep 2017
Full of wonders is the land of pure
Offers which to all a dose of cure

Mesmerising colours, the white and Green
Came into being, for destined to be clean

To all which spreads, love and joy
Overfilled love for my country oh boy

Yehi surzameen meri jaan o abroo
Mushtamil hai jissay ye mah e roo

Showing the potential all in one wag
Followers and the others, all in one flag

Will I sit on the dirt of the pure, my lifespan
The one which I love to call, my Pakistan<3
Nida Mahmoed Apr 2017
Stop killing your daughter,
In the name of honor killing,
Which you never feel for her,
So how could she shatter,
That which you never possess!

By: Nida Mahmoed.
Next page