I feel that to live is inevitable. When nobody wakes you up in the morning and nobody waits for you at night and when you can do whatever you want. Can sit smoking for hours, get drunk with the moon, Observe the silhouette of your existence . With sage of immortal dreams , Flower- bewitched. What do you call it freedom or loneliness?
Hiding the hurt, hiding the pain Hiding the tears that fall like rain. Saying I'm fine, when am nothing but. This ache in my soul, rips at my gut. The world must stay out, I've built up a wall, My fragile lie will collapse, should it ever fall? Loneliness consumes me, it eats away my years Until my life is swallowed by unending fears. My skin is on fire , I burn from within, The calm on my face is an ongoing sin. To wake up in the morning and go to school Just so people can test you and prove you're are fool. Life is tough-- that's what they say, But they don't know what it's like everyday. Waiting for someone to see I wear a mask And care enough to remove it, is that too much to ask?
Heyya #mirakees love ya all for supporting me till now It means a lot to me wish ya'll to stay safe and happy . Here is a poem that I wrote before this pandemic ...
nostalgicsoull_You are not a poet beautiful, you're a poem, a poem that cannot be end or abandoned ❤... Welll the poem is awesome, have a great journey with @mirakeeworld ... Nd yeah I love you to the infinity ✨❤
Loneliness to me is like a close, old friend getting unwanted invitations, visits my life more often- It sits with me like my own shadow and we wait for the moon, for her face to sparkle in the shining starlit sky.
Dear solitude, even though I adore you , I hate loneliness. I miss him even more, and not able to hold him at that very moment brings me a sense of unpleasantness.
I don't really know what I write. I don't really know if anything good comes out of it. I just know I feel like it. I feel like writing and I do it. So, all I know is me, a me that is complicated. So much complicated that I do not know whether I have been alive through all the time that I have lived. So, here it is. I don't know. I admit it, I don't know. I don't know myself and yet analyse others. I have know idea what I want, yet somehow, I help people figuring it out. But who knows? Did I give you the right advice? Was my tone wrong or my words? Or may be my intention? Was a I calm or anxious? Was I kind or jealous? Who knows? I don't....