I’m sick of all these love songs
Written about another
Sonnets and odysseys
Desperate for a Lover

I want to enjoy the silence
Nihility subdue
Equally alone
As I am with you

I try to reflect Compassion
A metric of good health
Psuedo-neo Truism
Learn to “Love Thy Self”

A clear face that has this glow
Big brown eyes and bushy brows
Chubby cheeks but somehow still has cheekbones
A smile with dimples that she gave herself
Buck teeth that are super white and bright
4'9 with thighs of steel
Perky ******* that finally grew in
An *** that's bigger than her tiny body
Hairy legs showing others she doesn't care
Scars on her body representing the obstacles of her life
All with a personality that's bigger than her.

How can you want to die in a world so fiercely beautiful?
Where rain comes out of no where and thunder claps loudly.
Where even night, through the stars lacks no light.
How can you want to die in a world where people love you when you cant for yourself?
Where hope claws through despair.
How can you want to die in a world so wide and new?
Where the sun shines warm on your face.
Where the cold wakes up your soul.
How can you want to die when there are so many reasons to stay alive?

Hello.
I am the trending poem.                                                            ­            
         you see me and I make you feel alive
                                             so you like me and re-post me
                                                              ­    then you leave me alone to die.
Hello,
I am your forgotten lines.
             you created me with a careful love
                                                          an­d decisive rhymes
                                      and then to the bottom of your page I'm shoved.
Hello
I am forgotten, alone and unloved
                           a faded smile a broken dove
                                               I once was beautiful, touching.
                                                       ­   now, I've been replaced, I'm nothing.

When we were children
Of age nine or ten
In a small town far away,
Life was simple then

No mobile phones we had seen,
Internet was never there.
Summers in the river fishing,
A childhood without care

We played gilli danda in the mud
plucked mangoes by the dozen
Monsoons meant wet football
Shivered gleefully in the winter season

Little boys in half pants
And girls in pigtails
Of visits to the circus
Making paperboats and catching snails

A simple happy world,
Of cozy Sunday lunch.
A game of carrom in the eve
Or music with which we danced

Life has changed a lot
For the better, thats what people say
All i know is that,
I do miss those golden days!