#poetryforlife - Hello Poetry

We are not born with fire— we choose it. In the silence of doubt, in the ache of waking pain, we reach for a flame that doesn’t burn, but builds. Some of us burn not to destroy, but to light paths no one dared walk before. We carve names into time with trembling hands and unwavering hearts. Creation is not in limbs, but in vision. In the breath that shapes words, in the mind that dares to dream even as the body folds. But even fire, no matter how bright, must one day soften into ember. Even warriors deserve a gentle sunset. So when peace calls your name— when stillness becomes the goal, not the obstacle— may you rest with pride, not regret. For the world remembers those who chose to live with courage, to create in the dark, to love in the storm. And to my friend, who walks with wisdom and weight, know this: You are not fading. You are finishing— and every step leaves warmth behind.

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Apr 21, 2025

Apr 21, 2025 at 3:56 PM UTC

ahmed-gamel

"The Fire and the Rest"

We are not born with fire— we choose it. In the silence of doubt, in the ache of waking pain, we reach for a flame that doesn’t burn, but builds. Some of us burn not to destroy, but to light paths no one dared walk before. We carve names into time with trembling hands and unwavering hearts. Creation is not in limbs, but in vision. In the breath that shapes words, in the mind that dares to dream even as the body folds. But even fire, no matter how bright, must one day soften into ember. Even warriors deserve a gentle sunset. So when peace calls your name— when stillness becomes the goal, not the obstacle— may you rest with pride, not regret. For the world remembers those who chose to live with courage, to create in the dark, to love in the storm. And to my friend, who walks with wisdom and weight, know this: You are not fading. You are finishing— and every step leaves warmth behind.

41

My sunshine my moon light, Je suis désolé, I walked away. Thou art fair, O my beloved! Thou didst gift me the art of living, but not without thee.❤️ Thou didst teach me to give but, without exhausting self . Thou thought me to Bestir after jeers. Thee wast my addition, yet good for my fettle. Flaunting thee, I got lauded. Feeling thee, I got better like a buss. Was reflecting my mind's saga in thee! Methinks why didst I avaunt ?Natheless, It's been months.. I know! Can I forlorn thee? Naa .. Thou art my amour. I can't forsake, thee can I? "je suis de retour bébé" ("I'm back baby") Melancholy ain't making me poetical, Instead, more panglossian! The merman sobbing in rain, Remember! Best lessons are the ones that comes from pain. For, POETRY be my life. Yes she's my amour!* - Rose

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Sep 5, 2020

Sep 5, 2020 at 2:22 AM UTC

Rose

Je suis de retour bébé

My sunshine my moon light, Je suis désolé, I walked away. Thou art fair, O my beloved! Thou didst gift me the art of living, but not without thee.❤️ Thou didst teach me to give but, without exhausting self . Thou thought me to Bestir after jeers. Thee wast my addition, yet good for my fettle. Flaunting thee, I got lauded. Feeling thee, I got better like a buss. Was reflecting my mind's saga in thee! Methinks why didst I avaunt ?Natheless, It's been months.. I know! Can I forlorn thee? Naa .. Thou art my amour. I can't forsake, thee can I? "je suis de retour bébé" ("I'm back baby") Melancholy ain't making me poetical, Instead, more panglossian! The merman sobbing in rain, Remember! Best lessons are the ones that comes from pain. For, POETRY be my life. Yes she's my amour!* - Rose

25

I have torn countless pages off of my copy These hands do not dare rub the words Every orphan paper a cup of sugarless coffee Pencil morphs to shield, eraser be my sword The room resembles a scrambled puzzle However insignificant they all have a role Silent yet powerful like guns with muzzle Broken to the naked eye but contribute to a whole

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May 14, 2020

May 14, 2020 at 3:05 PM UTC

BrighterDark

Permanent Marker

I have torn countless pages off of my copy These hands do not dare rub the words Every orphan paper a cup of sugarless coffee Pencil morphs to shield, eraser be my sword The room resembles a scrambled puzzle However insignificant they all have a role Silent yet powerful like guns with muzzle Broken to the naked eye but contribute to a whole

8

How is it that I can make you laugh and cry at the same time? Your tears so precious they form at the lids, and become diamonds that fall out your eyes. If I could catch them all I'd be the richest man alive. Still I've managed to collect a few that I'll hold on to, and cherish for all of time.

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Jan 1, 2017

Jan 1, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC

apollo-hayden

Catching Diamonds

How is it that I can make you laugh and cry at the same time? Your tears so precious they form at the lids, and become diamonds that fall out your eyes. If I could catch them all I'd be the richest man alive. Still I've managed to collect a few that I'll hold on to, and cherish for all of time.

4