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I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 Feb 2018 Raashi Bijlani
Star BG
Roses are red.
My hearts blue.
Because I'm lonely.
without you.

Roses are pink
My heart is grey.
Hope you come round
so we can play.

Roses are yellow.
My heart is brown.
Cause you have gone,
far out of town.

Roses are purple.
My heart is dark.
My moneys gone now.
Marc your a shark.
inspired by kathryn anne
Cigarettes and sweet alcohol
That's what you taste like
It's cold here but you're warm
Your mouth
Your hands
All over my skin
This moment
This roughness
This sweet sensation
This illusion
I hope we meet again
Liquid courage to numb the pain.
Intoxicated to forget.
Offbeat blood, sent from heart to vein.
Returns with a guest, she just met.


She closes up, leaves the bar clean.
To her apartment, around three.
In bed she lays, counting some sheep,
That mock her, thinking she will sleep.
She hears the crickets’ lonely beat.
Reminding her of creeps she meets.
Sometimes they have a potential start.
But never truly go that far.


Each night dealt with some other cards.
But slowly starts to build up guard.
She puts less time in her makeup.
But drunks continue to pick up.
She joins in shots, hopes to pass out.
But in her head she hears the shouts.
Her heart’s hunger for real love.
Her clouded thoughts rise above.


A newly turned insomniac.
No longer sleeping on her back.
Till curtains peek with starry eyes.
So bright, leaves a forceful rise.
Her sobs like strings of violin.
A void no liquor can fill in.
Despite how much she tries to drown.
The aches resonate with shrill sounds.


Another night, still found no one.
A man enters, two drinks and done.
She questions him, “What is the rush?”
Always pulled into a quick crush.
But never really tends to last.
As he mumbles about his past.
A bartender, like therapist.
As alcohol reveals the gist.


Now drunk and loud, he starts to shout.
Before his crash, he raises doubt.
He talks about, the best he lost.
Always at home, waits for the toss.
She cheers him up, when in a rut.
He gets up again, “That **** mutt!
To see her hurt, curled up in bed.
I held her paw, up till her death.”


The next night, slept pretty early.
He was perfect, brown hair curly.
Her eyes were lost, but not with lust.
Enjoyed his smells, delicious must.
A piece of her, became a part.
Happy to save his sinking heart.
Rescued him, he slept on her rug.
Named Milo, her three-legged dog.
This is one of the sample stories in my new book, "BitterSweet," which has become a #1 New Release on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/BitterSweet-Lior-Gavra/dp/0999497103/
And so I embark on yet another month,
A month of sadness of bewilderment,
As the acquiesce once our bodies and lips bind,
Complying so often with the beat of our hearts,

It is all but too difficult to acknowledge,
Such a loss,
A loss of love now embittered with pain,
Enjoined by sorrow of love we had,  

How I’ve deteriorated in your craving,
How my sensibilities have yearned for you,
I love you still with all my kinesthesia,
It seems my love no longer gives you amenity,

Yet love I have for you now brings me torment,
Your love was nothing but a blistering forest and,
No precipitation,
As the leaves are bequethed to the ground,
Never to bare growth or the strength of the husk,
  
It is for that comparison I feel as the ashes on ground,
Never to be loved again or find the love we had,
I am now like a bird with a broken wing,
Like that of a king with no subjects,

I now have numerous Handicapps,
Since your heart has congealed from me,
I had a passionate love for you,
And you have left me alone with my
KINESTHESIA ”
KINESTHESIA =SENSITIVITY”
I once told you I loved you,
On a celebratory night,
Under an ambience beauty,
Of an alluring sunset flaming orange,

That embraced your face before,
I had a chance to caress your face,
Convoluted in an expressing evening,
As obscurity covered our embraces,

In the explosion of the night,
Our love was more seductive,
As it whisked within our souls,,
As our amaurotic lips caressed,

As we drowned in a sea of love,
When the sun had gone we filled,
The empty night overlaying the,
Earth with the color of our
STUNNING LOVE”
My soulmate died


Before we ever met


That's why I feel like this

— The End —