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A voice like hundred whispers spoken loud,
In land of ****** snow as it was sown,
And drifting question it forever bound,
A yew tree seeking home in ice and stone.

In forest grown of golden solid woods,
The channels frozen under ice still hum,
With eerie wails that silence songs of birds,
Through ever present, ever crooning thrum.

The voice of forest cast as mighty tool,
The flowing channels, veins in ****** snow,
The wailing question spreading bitter yule,
The yew and stone in rooted steadfast vow.

Through autumn, ice or nature's anguished blow,
Forever glowing life will always flow.
I was once the calm before the storm,
Soft-spoken, eager to please.
I bent and bowed to every demand,
Hoping for some small reprieve.

I was the sun behind the clouds,
A gentle light to guide.
But you saw me as weak, as nothing at all—
Just someone you could bide.

You shaped me with your empty words,
Your lies, your games, your hate.
You laughed as I stumbled and fell,
Thinking I’d accept my fate.

I silenced my voice to soothe your pride,
I smiled through all your games.
I stitched my wounds with fragile hope,
Yet you fed them with your flames.

But storms don’t stay quiet forever,
And wounds don’t heal by chance.
I picked myself up from the wreck you made,
And now I rise, not dance.




I did not create the storm—
I simply became it.
I did not leave it all to chance,
Though that's what you named it.

You called me fragile, weak, a pawn,
A shadow beneath your rule.
But every whisper, every slight—
You fed the fire of a fool.

And now the fool stands cloaked in rage,
Her fury sharp and wild.
You played your games, you stacked your cards,
But you forgot—storms have a child.




You’ll taste the ruin you left behind,
Feel the wreckage you thought was mine.
Each word you spoke to tear me down
Will now burn through your spine.

I am the echo of all you’ve done,
The screams you tried to drown.
The wrecking wind, the searing rain—
I’ll bring it all crashing down.

You’ll hear my name in the howling winds,
Feel my wrath in the quake.
You stole my peace, you shattered my soul
Now the storm is wide awake.


No mercy will I leave in my path,
No corner safe to hide.
Each piece of your fragile world will fall—
I’ll rip it from inside.


Your lies will hang like broken glass,
Cutting through your pride.
And every tear you tried to deny,
Will flood you like the tide.

A reckoning is coming, dear,
You’ll beg for the pain to end.
But this isn’t justice—it’s destruction’s kiss,
A storm you cannot mend.

You’ll know the torment you inflicted,
Feel the cold blade of regret.
For every wound you carved in me,
I’ll leave your soul in debt.


Let your castles crumble, your masks dissolve,
Let chaos reign supreme.
I’ll unravel your world brick by brick
Your life will be my dream.

And when the storm has taken all,
When nothing of you remains,
You’ll finally see the power you gave
To the storm born of your games.
Cross that bridge,
Because there's no reason
To continue this way.

You've given all the
Reasons,

And I can't let it
Take over your
Life.

You've come so far,
Blossomed like a
Flower,

Survived the storms
And rose towards
The stars.

So please,
Tell me what's keeping
You awake at night?

Is it the past
Plaguing your
Head?

Are you
Desperate to
Forgive and forget?

You say
Letting go is the
Hardest part.

And you know
You gotta

Let the past be
The past,

And live and
Let live.

Just know,
It's okay to
Feel this way.

This is only
Temporary.

You don't have
To hide anymore.

Because at the
End of the tunnel,

I'll be your guiding
Light,

Getting you back
To where you were
Before:

A flower reaching
Towards the stars.
We are galaxies wrapped in human skin,  

Infinite and diverse

Short, tall, curved, angular,  

Painted in every shade beneath the sun.  

We carry stories like hidden constellations,  

Symphonies unheard by casual ears.  

Mothers, creators, dreamers, doers

More than the roles they give us.  

Some wear scrubs that heal,  

Some don suits that lead,  

Some wrap aprons around quiet dreams   

But always, there is more beneath the surface.  

We are silent strategists,  

Mapping emotions with a glance,  

Untangling life’s knots with quiet magic.  

We repair not only what has been broken.

We restore what is unseen.  

We write novels at midnight,  

Teach yoga or calculus with equal grace.  

We climb walls others fear facing,  

And drive highways under moonlit skies.  

They see simplicity where we hold storms,  

Calm exteriors hiding infinite layers.  

Mother. Worker. Wife.  

Labels are too small for the worlds we contain.  

Stop. Look closer. Listen deeply.  

We are not just women

We are universes waiting to be discovered,  

Galaxies hidden in plain sight,  

Architects of futures yet unwritten.
This poem explores the hidden depths of women’s lives—their untold stories, unseen challenges, and unrecognized strengths. It reflects on how women are often defined by surface-level roles—mother, professional, wife—that fail to capture the vastness of who they truly are. Beneath their calm exteriors lie galaxies of talents, passions, and resilience, quietly shaping the world in ways that often go unnoticed. This piece is a call to look beyond appearances, to listen deeply, and to acknowledge the infinite complexity and quiet power that women carry within them.
I am me and not what others see me

I was confident, with a glowing smile,
A passion inside that could light up a mile.
I made everyone around me shine,
Focused, steady, with dreams to define.

Like a stream pulling fish with ease,
I knew I’d achieve greatness, piece by piece.
From the ground up, I’d build my way,
Until someone came and led me astray.

They made me question what I’d become,
Small and unsure, my thoughts would succumb.
How strange it feels to think you’re free,
Yet chained by what others want you to be.

I lost myself, or so I thought,
In battles my heart and mind had fought.
Something unchangeable, something innate,
A struggle I couldn’t fully escape.

But now I see what was hidden inside—
The real me, no longer denied.
The one who smiled and spread delight,
Who held his dreams in the darkest night.

The person who helped me see this truth
Is gone, yet left behind their proof.
And now I know, clear as can be,
I am me and not what others see me.
I am relieved
Blake Farley Jan 17
Better to lay your spirit low.
Don't upset the ones who like you quiet.
And when your spirit freezes on the window screen,
The birds will watch the frost softly fall off into the snow.
Poem before the inauguration.
Syafie R Jan 16
That day, my tears surrendered—

no flood, no fight, just silence.
It stopped feeling,

as if watching Nagasaki fall,

a mushroom cloud rising, 

bodies frozen,
shadows left behind,

no scream, no running—

just acceptance.
You built a void within me,

 an implosion of despair,

and sealed it shut.
Kalliope Jan 15
I was made of fabric
Hair like silk framing my face
Naive eyes looking every which way
And through rough palms
I was strung along
And changed into tattered lace

I was made of leather
Firm but flexible
Looking for pleasure
I thought I knew better,
Had found the right way
I had to learn it hurts just as bad
To bend but not break

I am made of steel
Solid and sturdy, I don't have to feel
I can keep myself safe
It's okay to be alone at the end of the day
I built myself up, I filled my own cracks
It haunts my heart to think of my reckless past
You turned me into glass
A kaleidoscope heart
On display for your art
And I don't know how to revert back
There are dreams I’ve folded, tucked away tight,
Like old forgotten clothes, out of mind, out of sight.
One dream is my family, proud, happy, and strong,
But in truth, they’re splintered, fighting who’s right, who’s wrong.

Another was of healing, of wearing a vet’s coat,
Or moving the masses with the words that I wrote.
Helping the helpless, animals small and in need,
A life lived in service, a world I could lead.

I dreamt of a wedding, a dress pure as snow,
Walking the aisle, to see your smile’s glow.
I dreamt of a farm, vast and self-sustained,
With crops that thrive and animals well-trained.

But the dream I can’t fold, the one that won’t fade,
Is the thought of a child, a love never swayed.
It’s wrapping gifts from “Santa” late Christmas Eve,
It’s seeing you hold them, as they sleep and believe.

It’s watching them grow, teaching what’s right,
Helping them learn from what keeps them up at night.
This dream, I hold close, though I dare not say,
It lingers with me, every step, every day.

I don’t ask for this dream, nor expect it to be,
But it clings to my heart, a part of me.
Folded, yet vivid, it whispers, not yet,
For some dreams stay alive, though they’re placed in regret.
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