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So you want me to quit?
Say I'm too old.
Throw in the towel.
Let my cards fold.
I've been told that before by another -
she went by the name -darling mother
So you want me to give up just like that?
a wrinkled old woman, ugly and fat.
I've been told that before by another-
he lived with me, was just like a brother.
So you want me stop doing what I love
want me to shut up
put out my light
or all the above
I've been told that before by another -
oh ya, let me think....it was my grandmother
So you want to pretend I don't exist-
wipe me off the face of the earth
make me regret my birth
I've been told that before by a friend.
Will you finally be happy when I reach
my end?
Leave behind the shadows cast,
By love that never truly lasts.
Break free from chains that hold you tight,
And step into the healing light.

But know this truth, and hold it near,
You deserve more than pain and fear.
A love that lifts, a heart that's kind,
Not chains that bind and eyes that blind

Your heart deserves a tender touch,
A love that doesn't ask too much.
No more the tears, the silent cries,
It's time to bid those lies goodbye.

Embrace the strength within your soul,
To seek a love that makes you whole.
For in the leaving, you will find,
A peace that soothes your weary mind.

So walk away, don’t turn around,
In freedom's flight, let joy be found.
For when you leave that toxic place,
You’ll find a love that knows your grace.
For the people who finds it difficult to let go and leave, there's someone better and more deserving of you out there I promise.
I love you more than stars that gleam,
Scattered like jewels in a midnight dream.
They glow and whisper through the night,
But none can match your soul’s pure light.

If I could count each star above,
Still, they'd fall short of my love.
For stars may flicker, fade, and die,
But my love for you will never say goodbye.
It’s 2 AM, and here I stay,
Lost in photos, lost in yesterday.
Your laughter echoes in every frame,
A glimpse of the past, untouched by change

You’d steal my phone, grinning wide,
Snapping pictures I never realized.
Pictures of me, of you, of us—
Little souvenirs of trust.

I miss your teasing, the way you’d play,
Turning long shifts into something less gray.
I miss our secret retreat,
Feigning tasks just to rest our feet.

I miss the hospital halls we used to roam,
The way you made each shift feel home.
How you stood by me in the OR light,
A silent anchor through the night.
It's 2 in the morning, and yet here I am, looking through some old photographs of yours—the ones you took when we were still in clerkship. I remember how you would always sneak to get my phone and take pictures of me sleeping, of yourself, and of basically everyone, given that you knew my password.  

I miss how you used to tease me. I miss having duties with you. I miss our clerkship days, when we would sneak around and pretend to be busy just so we could have some free time to relax for a bit. The walks around the hospital just to pass the time. I miss how you accompanied me in my ORs, how supportive you were, and how you always took my pictures, how you'll always bring me food.

Missing you extra today :(.  Just remembering some of our memories that I'll forever cherish. It's lonely not having you here. I'll see you soon
Neither too serious
nor too frivolous-

neither too optimistic
nor too pessimistic-

neither too spendthrift
nor too deep in thrift-

neither too trusting
nor too mistrusting -

neither over-eating
nor under-eating-

neither too confident
nor too diffident -

neither too ambitious
nor being unambitious -

neither over-planning
nor under-planning-

neither too careful
nor being a reckless fool-

this above serves as the Golden Rule
By the rose’s touch, may love arise,  
A glowing light beneath soft skies.  
In every heart, may it remain,  
A timeless flame that knows no pain.
Under Love's Wing 10/02/2025 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
For some of us
abstractions
can flow too far apart
to gather together
Still we navigate
through poems caught
in stormy weather
Then there those
whose desires gets tossed
into a word salad
of creative thought
Pour on some dressing
romantically obscure
express your victim hood
your poetical fears!
Page after page
line after line
recording
the history of
the Poet kind!
Traveler 🧳 Tim
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