"srf" poems
Hum mile ek dusre se
Sabkuch acha tha.....
.
Ek pal na socha maine
Ki bo to bs ek kaanch ka supna tha.
.
Baate hui, dosti hui , najdiikiya badi.
Mar mitne ko jee chahata hai us pr mujhe.
.
Ky karu pyaaar hai had se jyada mujhe usse.
Jeena nhi chahata hu uske bagair mai.
.
But saccchhhai ye hai ki hum ek ni ** skte .
Never ever.
.
Islye kud ki hi najro mai thoda thoda krke mar raha hu mai.
Jee nhi raha bs saaanse gin raha hu mai.
.
Srf or srf es ummeed me .
.
Hume bhi hai ek supno ki dunia bnani.
Nahi rakhni mujhe #Humari_adhuri_kahaani.
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.
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#SmArTy...
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
Ky ** tum,.
Princess ** tum meri.
Jaan ** tum meri.
Har khushi ki bajah ** tum.
Meri har har baat tumse shuru hoti hai or tum pe khatam.
Mera har morng tumse start hoti hai.
Or har raat tum pr khatm.
Tumhare bin to main apni lyf imagine bhi ni kr pata.
Main to humesha k lye Sone ko bhi ready hu.
Kyoki jo(Aap) sapne me mera apna hai.
Wahi aankh khulte hi srf ek supna hai.
.
.
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#SmArTy...
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 12:20 PM UTC
I was born a sandwich kid
Not much love was shown
There was a situation
Lonely and alone
I would cry, affection dry
As a desert bone.
I had no preprocessing traits
If care were in a well
I would fail if I sunk my pail
Into the depths of hell
Neglect my due so it ensued
I grew up a shell.
*We all need love to water us
A child must be fed
But if the care's not in the air
They might as well be dead
Cakes are baked with sugar
If it's not put in first
Can't bake again the bitter end
The cake is dry as dust.*
And so I started using drugs
When I was but a teen
I ditched school, I was a fool
Because I could have been
Anything I wanted
Instead out there wasted
A runaway, a wasteland
A stunted tree and blasted.
(chorus)
I turned to religion
I thought I was home free
Buddhism, the SRF
And scientology
Transcendental Meditation
I read of the Bahai'
I read the book Siddhartha
It was like a high
But i lost faith and turned to drugs
Over and over again
I was ****** could not atone
I can now this story pen
(chorus)
Then I found my savior
The Lord Jesus Christ
I was beat, but He was heat
And melted all the ice
Around my heart, then I did start
To conquer every vice
I found the Holy Spirit
I found my Father dear
Don't think it odd, I found God
And now I have no fear!
*We all need Love to water us
With Manna we are fed
We conquer sin, and we can win,
We can get ahead
We all need a High Tower
A place where we can go
To bask in love from up above
and let the Spirit flow!
**[bridge]
We can all find sweetness
It CAN be restored
We are FREE and we can SEE
OUR PRECIOUS SOVEREIGN LORD!***
SoulSurvivor
(C) 3/19/2016
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 4:18 PM UTC
I don't want you to go
I can't stay, either
so here
here's a piece of me.
carry it always.
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
Confessions of a former drug addict
I was an alcoholic
Did drugs into the night
I started at 11
Did anything in sight
'Til my brain was addled
I wasn't very bright
Soul sickness was my problem
Did not know wrong from right
But Jesus healed my spirit
I finally saw the light
I started as a bartender
For my family do's
I catered to their parties
And I began to use
I served up martinis
They could not refuse
Made 'em good and strong
Began with one or two
Soon I became drunk
And started to abuse
Then I did white crosses
Marijuana trees
I did angel dust
Also known as ***
No ******* or ******
But I did LSD
Discovered yellow jackets
And drank peyote tea
I couldn't ever get enough
And that was all for me
At 14 years old
It was catastrophe
Then I found religion
Known as Scientology
It was total *******
But I finally broke free!
I went for years not drinking
Had no acid trips
I loved a natural high
And no drug passed my lips
But life has twists and turns
Much pain and great hardship
I had to run away
Just took a couple sips
Embarked upon a journey
On substance abuse ships
I finally found the needle
****** *******
I preferred the uppers
Manic highs obtained
I found I could not get away
And so my soul was stained
Then I started smoking it
I liked that best of all
It was like the peak of bliss
That high I still recall
But with every High
There's always a hard fall
I tried Scientology
The SRF and more
But my soul was very sick
Rotten to the core
I was finally Shipwrecked
On a hostile shore
I tried AA and Rehab
But they could not restore
Beaten down to nothing
I was finally floored
Then I met my Jesus
And I was so inclined
To go to church 3 times a week
And the Spirit shined
Gave water to my thirsty soul
My very bones aligned
He restored my body
And He restored my mind
When I finally broke free
Of the religious grind
No matter how the roads will turn
How they wend and wind
I have seen the valley
Mountains I have climbed
Now I know within my soul
His Mercy I will find
And so Jesus saved me
It happened overnight
I woke up a different person
With the strength to fight
I have new eyes to see now
He's restored my sight
No longer in deep Darkness
I have seen the light!
SoulSurvivor
(C) 9/3/2016
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 12:59 PM UTC
Help Yourself!
Examine the lumber yard
squatting in YOUR eyes.
Take your srf books,
and burn them for warmth,
because this is all they are worth.
Do you know the words I share
with the spirit, in the dark hours?
Do YOU presume to know
what the most high condemns,
what is required by Our Father?
Now is the winter of my bitter content, for yet I lack,
and what is necessary is near,
but Not Present.
Your fumbling armloads
of Books, books, books
will not ***** my fire.
What logic could ever convince you
that this could ever be so.
You assume...
Let that sink in.
You assume
you have carte blanche to condemn, and your digital life preserver
is even going to work.
All that will work
is yet to be.
Soon is the spring
of my boundless bliss.
Who I need, will be found.
Until then, help yourself,
and stop ripping off the bandages
I wrap around myself,
to keep me
from grabbing a cheap date,
when what I have coming is a mate.
He makes concessions
where we are weak.
And demands
where we are strong.
A fire that might spread beyond
and devour the grasslands,
far away from the hearth
where it belongs,
must be tended,
and fed,
inferior wood...
until the proper bundle arrives.
Save your self help books.
They are not the fuel
that this fire requires.
I have all the help I need
it dwells inside me,
and it understands
what you are incapable
of comprehending
Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 10:19 PM UTC