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Debanjana Saha Jul 2017
A support you were
Always to me
Took all the pressure
Out of rocky edges
And never told anyone
How it was to be!
Not understanding you
Was a blunder of all
I wish I could undo it
Once & for all!
Keep no hard feelings
As I'm already being punished
from being away from you!
So much away
that it makes me feel
going to an empty nest
Every other day.

I wish I could
make you understand
that how you meant to me
With all the irritations
and leg-pulling
You made me cry
You made me laugh
To the brim!
I wish I could do
something for you
To return back
all the treasures
you gave to me!

Be in touch people say
But in this era
Touch is only at screens!
Time passes by
And every wound heals,
But to an extent
An empty space in the heart
Is never reciprocated!

-13 July, 2017
I cannot convey in a better way
other than a poetry! I wrote this poetry for my Team lead who is my former manager too. He recently resigned from the company & it made me sad out of the blue!
Its not easy to let you go
But for your growth(in aspect of career) I have no other choice except to wish the for him the best in the near future!
Àŧùl Jun 2017
This is a black day for sports,
Even if not in the world,
Surely Indian sports.

Virat - the young junior player,
He made the engineer quit,
Kumble had to give up.

Virat Kohli has a harsh ego,
He let his ego defeat the team,
Whereas Anil Kumble had none.
My HP Poem #1597
©Atul Kaushal
Miss Clofullia May 2017
Imagine the worst soccer team in the world.
Now go deeper
and try to picture every single player.

I bet you think they're all ******, talentless ******, right?

WROOONG!

They are the most talented and witty players
on the crippled face of this earth,
each of them with 2 or 3 MVP titles in their pocket.

They are so good as individuals
that make a terrible team.

and, on top of that,
you get to be the goalkeeper.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWGE9Gi0bB0
Zero Nine Mar 2017
I do pray for something but
in the end, nothing comes
I fight the urge while waking
through the tepid days,
that I deserve the specific
happiness of feeling hand
and mouth to skin
The wish,
ceaseless, I crave nothing more
And I
do pray for nothing so
in the end, all is dust

In the end, I
Means altogether nothing
Baptize me with water, then
Waste washing downward from heaven in rain
Ascetic by accident, boiling over
Up from down below
Mark Donnelly Dec 2016
The ball flies fast,
from player to player like giant pinball,
each touch is a score,
for each pass is a telepathic reward,
of hours spent honing skill and strategy,
friends playing friends achieving their dreams,
to show the world on game day your skill unbound,
there is escape for those on court and of court alike,
the worries gone replaced by the battle of mind and body,
only the ball matters,
a pass high above the hoop leads to alley oop,
the crowd cheers and your heart is gleeful,
for the art is witnessed by all.
I sometimes think it is hard for those that do not love sport to understand why people watch it. It is pure escapism.
With hands over these eyes, the view is blurred
To nothing but a glimpse through fingertips.
A monster from our nightmares bites his lips
And holds back sounds that should be heard,
Making paths grow dark and silent here on Earth.
We plunge into the solace of its grips,
And soon enough the world around us slips-
But sprouting in the darkness; we find Words.

At first we force them out, but quickly find
The monster that we bred can’t quite hold on.
Then Words come pouring freely from our minds;
Our sight is clearing up, in this new dawn.
We’ve made it here together, our fight for life;
One more breath into our lungs and we’re reborn.
athena Sep 2016
he’s wrong
he’s done terrible things
any, that you can think of
he’s been behind the old rusted bars
exchanged bullets with a stranger
as if they were having
a casual exchange of words
then ran and ran
and then i asked
do you even know how to shoot a gun?

crystals and the night stars were his friends
seeing them blurred
with the tears that filled his nights
and dreams that filled his thoughts

do someone like you even dream? do you even have a dream
Yes, I did.
no sister, no brother, no mother, no father
hated seeing kids with mothers
kids with fathers
kids with sisters
kids with brothers

having fist fights for lunch
and breaking legs for dinner
like wish bones
and a broken promise of a father
but there was life, lightyears away
because the night stars and crystals
left him bare, naked and jaded

carried a little boy on his arms for the first time
and said
i have a dream, i want this little boy
to have a mother
to have a father
to have a sister and a brother
Elioinai Aug 2016
This room shall be beautiful
after You rip down that faded wallpaper
and tear open old boards
the clouds of dust choke my throat
and crumbled tiles block my feet
But You see
the work is Yours
This room shall be beautiful
A bathroom is being renovated in my house. Our carpenter, my brother, thought it was going to be a small task but then the mud bed was discovered cracked, and under the sheet rock were rotten boards. It was discouraging and soon put us way over budget. My brother-in-law and a friend helped out as they could, but they are mechanics, not house builders.  My brother had to leave for college and entrust the task to other, busy carpenters. He had to let it be. He had to let go of the renovating responsibility. It was hard for him to accept that we didn't mind that he leave. We were going to be fine. The bathroom will be finished when it is finished, and it will be beautiful and new and more useful.   Let it be. Yes, it needs fixing. But it's not urgent. Trust others to help. It will be beautiful, one cut tile at a time.
Arcassin B Jul 2016
By Arcassin B & Wendy


AB:  Spirits Are kind when you walk their way with virtue,
WS: Mysterious twinkles that ignite the soul within you,
AB: I tell myself time and time again to not stare directly
Right at you,
WS: Burning anothers heart with joy through and through,

WS:A depth transparency that trys so hard to hide your mysterious soul.
AB: I was afraid you'd show your face today , forever beautiful even
When your old.


/

AB:
As beautiful as the footsteps that Jesus takes turning Grass
Into gold,
I place my thoughts where they were,
Making memories as I crash through the barriers of
a corrupted Mind,
I use to fantasise about the color of her eyes,
Struggling to get attention from her God-fearing
Stature and appearance lacking of disfiguration
Turning all the heads of the football teams that
Practiced just to get a chance to impress her likeness
In a kind enough "I don't care as long as your a good
Person" type of attitude,
While still inside of my shell I just hope I find the
Exact words the stumble into her heart and her
Mind and her soul letting it behold in shiny colors
Bouncing off aluminum through my bold,
Moves,
Probably not worthy of her time,
Causing sins under the blue skies,
I got alot on my mind,
Don't want her alone like Caroline,
Just sending shivers down my spine,
Wanna pursue her with all ties,
You're thinking your cool , she will never go for that,
With those beautiful eyes.
©ABPoetry2016



http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/07/beautiful-eyes-3-ft-wendy-starryeyes.html
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