Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
-Childhood Shadows-

I was small, hiding in plain sight,
my brother’s hands crossing lines I couldn’t name.
Fear lived in my bones,
and silence became my only armor.
Mother caught him, rage flaring,
almost breaking him with her own hands,
yet the years he was gone were only temporary.
When he returned, words of apology softened the air,
but I swallowed every emotion,
locked my voice in a chest of fear,
keeping our fragile family from crumbling.

-Carving Pain into Skin-

Adolescence came like a storm,
self harm tracing rivers of sorrow down my arms.
I thought love could save me
hearts I trusted shattered like glass.
Grandmother passed before I could say goodbye,
leaving grief curling around my chest.
Whispers and lies spread like wildfire,
friends turning their backs at someone else’s bidding.
False hope flickered in the eyes of another,
but the scars of the past clung tight,
teaching me that pain could be both refuge and cage.

-Loss and Panic-

Stepfather gone, a week of silence,
and my brother returned, shadowed and unwelcome.
Panic clawed at my throat,
and hospital walls became a cage for trembling hands.
A note, simple and desperate, asking him to leave me alone,
betrayed when my mother gave it to him.
He packed, left, yet I was forced into a family meeting
his apologies spilled like water,
but I could not forgive.
His absence was still presence,
a day later, a text:
“Because of you, your brother is homeless."
Pain twisted into my skin,
and I carved again to keep the agony inside,
hospital walls embracing me like old friends.

-Broken Doors, Fragile Shelter-

Returning home, he was back,
my door removed, privacy stripped away.
I left, prepared for homelessness,
but ex’s family extended hands,
gave me a place where I could breathe.
Love turned sour in the household I thought safe,
verbal abuse echoing through empty halls.
Cousins I trusted lied, playing games with truth,
and I learned that survival meant cutting ties
even with blood, even with family.
Now I live with a friend,
the air lighter, but still heavy with caution.

-The Present Struggle-

Life steadied, fragile as glass,
until work hours slipped, income waned,
and bills rose like walls I couldn’t climb.
Stress pressed, deadlines whispered threats,
yet I stand, scarred but defiant,
each mark a map of battles survived.
Every heartbeat a declaration:
I endured the worst,
I carried grief too heavy for my age,
I survived betrayal, heartbreak, loss,
and I continue walking forward.

-Endurance and Reflection-

I am the sum of pain and resilience,
a life carved by shadows, yet touched by flickers of light.
Lessons written in scars and empty rooms,
in hospital beds and broken doors.
I have loved, lost, and been broken,
yet here I am, standing.
Every scar a story, every tear a truth,
every breath a reminder...

I am not my trauma,
but I am its survivor.
This is my scars.
Usha 11h
✍️ Usha Maniar

Today, on my way to work,
a sudden dizziness stopped me.
I sat quietly on a chair at the bus stand,
watching people rush—
to offices, to markets,
to villages, to temples,
and some, perhaps,
already on their journey to eternity.

For a while, I felt weak,
but as I sipped water
and watched the world run by,
a strange peace filled my heart.

I realized—
life’s truth is not in running,
but in pausing.

Like muddy water stirred by motion
becomes clear when it rests,
the restless mind too
finds clarity in stillness.

Life is too short—
why waste it in endless chase?

If we can quiet our desires,
control our needs,
we will no longer need to run after life.
Instead, life itself
will come to rest in our hands.

🌸 Pause… and life will unfold its path. 🌸
This poem reminds us that in the rush of modern life, we often forget ourselves. True clarity and peace come not from constant chasing, but from pausing. Just as disturbed water clears when it rests, so too does the human mind. Life is short—live with calmness, not constant race.
Usha 1d
When two people alike collide,
ego often builds a wall.
One chooses to bend—
not from weakness,
but because the bond means more than pride.

True love forgives,
it overlooks mistakes in silence.
But when respect is crushed again and again,
even the deepest heart grows empty.

And then—
the one who once bowed in love
walks away without a word.

Only later comes the bitter truth:
in the arrogance of pride,
a rare and precious love was lost—
a love meant only for you.
✨ Message: Pride can break what love could have saved. Respect keeps love alive.
Usha 1d
After you left, only your shadow stayed,
Each page I write bleeds with your name.
They say no one dies of love’s absence,
But I know—I stopped living the day you were gone.

Your image lingers, etched upon my soul,
A tender portrait time can never erase.
Every memory breaks me quietly,
Every silence is filled with your voice.

I have befriended solitude,
And tied my heart to pen and paper.
For a wife, her husband is the whole universe—
And without you, mine has turned to dust.

What joy can matter,
When every breath aches for you?
So I pray to the heavens each night:
Call me home,
Let me rest where you are,
For even eternity feels too long without you.

— Your Wife
💫 A grieving wife pours her soul into pages,
where every memory is a wound,
every silence echoes with love lost,
and every prayer longs for reunion beyond life.
Reece 4d
Whenever my family and I,
Prepare to embark on a fair drive,
I grab my phone with my playlist along with my headphones.
Filled with excitement that nobody knows.
We set out on our excursion,
I put my headphones in,
I turn on my music,
And let the symphonies enter my head.
If I close my eyes,
I can visualize,
An ancient city filled with song and dance,
Amidst a sacred feast with the finest band.
I see the dresses swirl, and I smell the wheat in the fields,
Along with the fresh bread that they created with their yields.
The song changes to a more melancholic melody,
I envision a final stand, one with honor and dignity.
The knight fights its hardest, but is overrun,
The piano’s keys, haunting me, as it dies under the setting sun.
Another change, more upbeat, a comforting, catchy symphony.
I wish to dance, but I am confined to the car seat.
I open my eyes and look to the right,
At the sprawling landscape we’ve been passing by,
But instead of farmland and trees, guess what I see,
The same mind-boggling envisioning!
More songs play, various tones,
From joyous to somber, sacred to monotone,
Threatening to empowering, all on their own.
The drums beat to the piano’s keys,
As a rare mandolin strums in harmony.
A glorious symphony,
An undertone for creativity.
Oh, the power of envisioning!
My imagination can be my greatest friend or my greatest foe.
DIMASH THE SHEPHERD
(Story of One Sky Conclusion)

I am
Shepherd
Cloaking myself
In God’s soft simplicity
My tasks complete
Songs sung
Light shone
Souls ignited

Each day seven wheels
Revolved their full degrees
Now the Awakening
know that Love is the Strike
of Light on the sleep
of a hundred thousand
years of wrenching knots

I return to You
to dissolve again
in your gentle
Ecstasy of knowing
Yourself as Voice

Each of Your atoms
in a chant or falsetto
resonated in freedom’s
True radiant White

How you ached to know
if You could go further
than planets not yet discovered
You did through each of my
Harmonic breathes

Now I’m done to
cuddle frolicking lambs
and hold my staff
as heaven’s drumstick
It will beat the
silent space between
Resonating genes

You are well pleased
Our art of evolution
continues to vibrate
in every fingertip
each sea-sponge and
Sand grain

Refreshed I will descend
then ascend again
as You instruct
to expose muted layers
My F-sharps alchemising
wolves with nightingales

I bow to You
As I hood !


©GhairoDanielsPoetry2022
This poem is based on the song by Dimash Quidaibergen, Story of One Sky. It is a vignette of the Conclusion of the Song
mysterie Sep 10
words on paper.
it's simple.

but for some,
for me especially,
it's more
than words on paper.

it's feelings,
storytelling,
a way to express
your opinions

it's everything to me

so yeah,
it is words on paper
but it's more than that too.
date wrote: 25/8 - 9/9
ok.
Nyx Velora Sep 3
And Death entered her room at nightfall,
To fetch a beloved soul.
"Why are you crying, child?" Death asked the child.
"Mr. Snuffles won't wake up! I keep shaking him, yet he won't wake up!"
The child responded, cradling the small black cat in her arms.

"He has passed away, child. I'm here to take him to a place where he shall finally rest."
Death explained to the crying child.
"Where will you take him, mister? Why must you take him away?"
The child cried louder, seeming more desperate to keep her beloved cat to herself.

"It's time that Mr. Snuffles must go on and get rebirthed to his next life."
"With his short life in this world, he has already fulfilled his purpose, and that is to look after you as long as his little body allows."
Death further added.

"But you can't take him away, mister, not yet! I am still not grown, and I am still afraid to be alone in the dark!"
The child hugged her beloved cat tighter.
"There is light in the darkness, my child, and there is solace in being alone."
"Even if you wish to keep him longer, his body couldn't sustain his soul anymore. Another life awaits him at the other end."
Death squatted in front of the child, gently prying the cat from her.

"Why must you hold on to something that can no longer be there for you?"
Death asked yet another question.
"Because I still haven't made Mr. Snuffles happy! I haven't loved him enough yet. He can't go yet, please, mister!"
The child pleaded.

"Isn't it ironic that only in death humans find empathy, only in death your kind desperately asked for life when so many of you waste it away?"
Death thought to himself, seeming to wonder the irony of human emotions.

"Child, in this world, there's not a thing that remains permanent. Everything will eventually fade away, as well as the grief you are feeling in your little heart. One must know when to let go in order for the deceased and the living to move forward."
Death told the child softly.

"There will be comfort in grieving, there will be love with hatred, and most importantly, there will be life after death."
Death patted the child's head as he stood up, now cradling the black furball in his arms.

"Remember, child, death is not a curse nor is it a blessing. One must embrace this process in order to value the significance of life. Without death, life will be meaningless."
"Go forth, child, cry, grieve, be angry, yet remember that you must go forward in order to continue the existence of your beloved cat in your memories."
Death said as parting before he faded into the darkness of the night.

The child, stunned, collapsed on her bed, clutching Mr. Snuffles' collar near to her heaving chest.


- N.V. 🥀
One day,
The roof of this ancient building will cave
And the remnants held within
Will fade away with time,
And the hourglass will empty,
Never to be flipped again.

As the sand drops,
Dust will be left in it's wake;
A new home for stories and handprints,
Visceral imagery that screams,
"We were here."

Humans have always and forever
Wanted to be known,
You and I,
Wanted to be known —
Known by each other,
In those few hours we spent together.

This old building knows our story,
And our lives are written on the walls.
It broke my heart to see,
That our handprints had been erased.

It broke my heart because,
To disturb the dust,
Is to disturb the story.

At least,
That's what you told me
In that brief moment
So long ago.
- C.c
Next page