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"urooba" poems
When the trust is broken, And the words are just spoken: You never give your ears on them; It never gains the grip which's already loosen. The words become the unknown, It never reaches your heart again: The thing no one can understand; The words are just not a word- It belongs to the epic story, Which has the connection in past glory! But people just smashed the bygone memory; Making their present to forget the trust's worry. Composed by Urooba Fatima.
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Aug 1, 2020
Aug 1, 2020 at 1:58 AM UTC
Broken trust
I myself feel the sensation of the rope, Which is just pulling from both side: To get accomplishments with the hope; People are just involved in the stretching it wide. Even ignoring the rope pride, Just deeming it the iota type; And forcefully snatching uptight! In the melody to get the triumph height. I am the witness of the rope strain, It might not bear that much pulling pain tautly! It seems to be losing the layers of its skin in the flake gradually: But, People are enjoyed by seeing with the soul of the- drain. Composed by Urooba Fatima.
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Jun 29, 2020
Jun 29, 2020 at 10:52 PM UTC
Tug o' war.
Let me burn in the pain, Which is almost stir in my vein: I have seen a lot of double faces men; They use humans as playing any game! I do the same and receive the same, Why did I forget this world this triviality; But a place where you gain all of your vulgarity: Outcomes that you have done with the lame. It's a play of *** for tak, no one can do change- The law of the game, just play it without derange: It is compelled your wit to be utilized for gaining; The secure niche, where you spend your being. Composed by Urooba Fatima.
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Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 8:33 PM UTC
The realm
One thing, I like the most; Of pain, It doesn't step back; Of the obligations out of lack And even never let you lost. The condiment of the pain: It just Burns-in your vein; Never quenched but remain, Like a flame of the chain. It didactics integrity: Of the virtual connection in the middle- Of pair of insanity, who never fiddle, With each other the game of animosity. Composed by Urooba Fatima.
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Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 6:15 PM UTC
The goodness of pain.