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Sandy 2h
Want to roam around naked
But have to wear branded clothes to impress
To look nice
That is the conflict

Want to see  beautiful women
But have to behave ,look nice

Want to be an carefree animal
But have to be well behaved man
That is the conflict

I am somebody else
But have to be something else
That is the Conflict
I think all of us feel trapped at some point in our lives. We can not do the things the way we want, we have to follow societal norms.We feel bound .
This poem of  mine  tries to depict those feelings
Sandy 1d
Every Morning,when I rise, I do make sure
there’s nothing in my mind
nothing in my body
and nothing in my soul
as if I am a bottomless whole
as if I am a fresh born baby

Then I make sure,whatever work I am going to do
In the day
Will improve my mind,body or soul or
Somebody’s other body, mind or soul
And if my work is neither doing anything I said above
Then I am a useless monster just passing my time for sure

And when I have done the improvement work
Then every night, when I sleep
I feel mind like heaven
Feel my soul dancing
Feel my body energetic

And  if I have done no improvement work
Then I feel no difference between
Rising and sleeping.
I was a bottomless whole and still
Have achieved no goal.

Now you decide o people!!
Whether you want difference in your rise and sleep
Or you just want similarity
And remaining at the bottom of heap.

Choice is yours o people!!
Options are mine
I suggest you  to chose the improvement option
As it will take you to the cloud nine.

And then every morning, when I rise.
I do make sure……
I do make sure……
Straight from the old  diary
Sandy 6d
Earth will remain here
Sky will remain there

Show your glare
Show your glory

So that, you would also remain here
in people's memory
I have been a victim of overthinking and doing nothing. I definitely needs to push myself. Our time on this planet is limited. Whatever we have, it should come out.
Sandy May 27
When the ball is swinging,
And it’s Jimmy’s spell,
Curb your drives,
Go into shell
Or batting, my friend, will turn into hell.

When your wife’s mood starts swinging,
And you’re about to yell,
Stop !
Hide in your shell
Or that moment too will turn into hell.

In Test cricket, if you didn't succeed  first,
A second chance awaits, to quench your thirst.

In life, too, if you miss the mark,
There’s always another chance to spark.

So smile, stay calm, be focused, be wise,
Wait for the right ball, the right moment to rise
And when it comes, strike with grace,
That’s how you win life’s endless race

Writer -Sandeep Kaushal
Test cricket teaches valuable life lessons
Sandy May 26
"Mental Healing"

Why to take stress for
which is extracorporeal?

Go to the roof at night
Watch the stars and squeal
It will surely make you heal.

Whatever you have been chosen to do
Do it with full zest and zeal.
You will definitely find the weal.

Why hide behind the veil
If you are true, reveal
Why to conceal?

Never cheat yourself,  always be leal.

Well these are only words and are incorporeal.
But its promise if you do the aforesaid
You will feel the experience which will be ethereal.
                  
- Writer Sandeep Kaushal
This is my First attempt on Hello Poetry. Whenever we feel stress, reality seems to fade as if there is no meaning to life. These are the moments where we need Stress Busters. So, kindly read and give feedback.
Part 3 - H

07 April 2025

"The Last Goodbye (Love Like Wounds)"
You were the kind of love
they write tragedies about.
A wild, aching secret
I kept buried beneath my ribs,
like a song I wasn’t allowed to sing—
but did, anyway.
I loved you
with every shattered part of me.
With hands that never stopped trembling.
With a heart that kept returning to your fire,
even when it knew
I’d be left in ashes.

You were the silence
after the scream.

The hush of pain
disguised as comfort.
The wound that cut deep
so deep—
but never stayed.

You hurt me
in ways I still don’t have names for.
Left traces of yourself in my skin
like bruises shaped like promises.
And still,
I loved you.
Like I didn’t know better.
Like I didn’t know how not to.
You touched me
and the world disappeared.

Not in light—
but in shadow.

And I swore it was beautiful
because I couldn’t bear to call it what it was:

lonely.

Hollow.

Dangerous.

I miss you
like an addict misses the ache.
Like a ghost misses the body it once haunted.
I miss you in that quiet, trembling way
people miss what destroyed them.
And oh—
how I remember
your crimson red kiss.

Forbidden.

Fierce.

A sacred wound I kept reopening.
It tasted like surrender,
like sorrow,
like the end of the world
wrapped in silk.
I wore your love like a secret—
and bled for it in silence.
I still wake up
with your name caught between my teeth.
Still feel the phantom of you
in every breath I take.
Still ache for the way
you made even pain feel like intimacy.
But love
should not be something
I survive.

It should not ask me
to trade myself in pieces
just to be held.

You were my forbidden.
My undoing.

The ache that sang lullabies
in a language only I could understand.
But I can’t do it anymore.
I can’t keep kissing knives
and calling it devotion.
I can’t keep breaking just to feel something.
This—
this is my goodbye.
Not soft.
Not easy.
But final.
Because I may still grieve you—
may still wake up
missing the way you held my chaos—
but I will not go back.

I deserve mornings
that don’t start with aching.

Hands that touch me without burning.
Love that doesn’t leave me
emptier than before.

I still carry your name in my bones,
but it no longer commands me.
I still dream of you—
but I no longer beg the dream to stay.
I loved you
with everything I had.
And now I let you go
with everything I’ve become.
You were never forever.
You were a wound that taught me
what healing could feel like.

This is my last goodbye.
Not a whisper—
a promise.

Because I once let you carve yourself into me—
but now,
I reclaim the space.
And that—
that is the most beautiful thing
I have ever done.
My healing journey over the years. It's very long but trust me. It is worth it.
This is Part 3 of the Forbidden Love Series.
The title of the poem is The Last Goodbye (Love Like Wounds). This is the last poem of the Series
Archer Mar 25
There’s thousands of words published
On this site
Ev’ry day
None of us are Shakespeare
As we’re all great
In our own ways

The “thumbs up”s and “heart”s aren’t a
Reflection
Of who you are
So, keep writing Hello Poetry!
And fill our small world
With more stars
Khoisan Mar 18
I
can feel the darkness
encrouch upon my loveness
toward
the
lightness
my mind wonders off
as
in a dream
I
speak to you as I think of us.
In
my reality
I
want to take you
there
simply turn on the light
if you think
this is
a
nightmare
.
Look upon light as overwhelming darkness
.
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