My pen yearns to express the heart's deepest pain,
But my mind hesitates and the words remain,
My hand trembles and the pen poised in mid-air,
Longing to connect the heart and the paper.

For only when the nib touches the heart's core,
Can emotions flow and the truth be stored,
The prick of the pen sets the heart's feelings free,
And on paper, my deepest emotions can be.

-

Some people are
like an Appy Fizz.
They may look like
toxic alcohol from
the outside, but deep
down, they're truly sweet.

-

People often say that
nothing changes in their
life except the year
of the calendar.
Even if there's no change,
they still miss the days gone by.
Isn't it!

-

I'm the candle, slowly
melting away with each
passing day. But fear not,
for my flame shall never fade.
Once I fully melted, I shall
reshape myself, igniting with
a renewed energy that will
dazzle my very own world.

-

The pages of my notebook
were empty, just like my heart.
I aim to fill the pages with
the bleeding of my heart,
leaving behind the scars
of my wounded soul.

-

Once, I wished to reach
out and touch the moon,
But those around me,
cautioned against such
lofty aspirations.
Undeterred, I sketched
myself perched atop the
moon's luminescent curve,
and found bliss.
For in cherishing life's
simple joys, I refuse to
let others' pessimism
mar my path.

-

I held a flickering
flame of hope,
longing for you to
be the lightning in
my soul's darkness,
But you arrived as
a thunderous bolt,
scorching my spirit
into ashes.

-

growing even darker
as i gaze upon the
waning moon, just
like those who offer
hope, shining like a
full moon, only to
dim and fade away.
People, like the moon,
have phases, changing
with time, leaving us
feeling hopeless.

-

like a tunes of emotions,
resonating through every
nook and corner of my mind.
I yearn to grasp their essence,
but they elude me like a
fleeting whisper in the wind.

-

your piercing words within
the depths of my wounded heart.
Like a dagger's cruel embrace
upon a bleeding canvas,
leaving scars as souvenirs.
These remnants of pain, like
ancient relics, endure within,
bearing witness to your
words' lasting impact.

-