1375 posts
  • randalthor 2w


    When we are young, we measure love by feelings. When we are older, we measure love by money.

  • de_ife_7 3w

    The Night is Young.

    The night is young; very young
    before us has come many
    Quiteness of undue thirst
    What is so ludicrous?

    A mix of melancholic melody
    shall I go to bed now?
    as sweet is as bitter
    The night is young; still very young.

    ©de_ife_7 _deife_xp{IG}

  • nidanazir 4w


    You fail.
    It shows that you tried.
    This is far more better than not even trying.
    Now go try again.


  • rahul_govindan 4w

    He, the one who first made alcohol was wise...

    An average of 100k people leave out this world, not because
    Of old age - but of excess a(ddict)lcohol consumption.

    Several womens,(irrespective of the fact that women too drink)- Have been left all alone with her children, putting the lives into the darkest phase...

    There have been several protest, 'n' number of condemns,
    But still, we citizens focus more on increasing the GDP,
    Not via productive activites- and credits to all "Drinkers" ❤️

    Delhi Government: So? What's the matter bro! We have got a special package for you ��

    He, the one who first made alcohol was wise...
    He, the one who made it a business is "the exploiter"

    - G RAHUL.

    #alcohol #young #family #delhi #government

    Read More


  • the_nehak 4w

    #young writer

    Read More

    Be rich!

    "Be rich with both money and pure thoughts. "


  • x_suvak_x 6w


    Streets flooded with chaos
    But my eyes searched for something else
    Neon lightings and fancy dresses
    Street music and corner sketches
    Young blushing teens walked the
    Isles with cups of ground arabica beans.
    As I make my way through
    A little glimpse and my mind flew.
    Flew to those mountain valleys
    Away from all these crowds and rallies
    Dancing in the wind like a daisy
    Heartbeat fluttering like I'm crazy
    Eyes too beautiful to be called a stranger
    That lock of hair too rosy to be said unfamiliar
    My feet stopped to see her grace
    A lost jewel of which I still don't have any trace
    She was there but her mind wasn't
    I should've said something but I couldn't.
    Her mind was lost in the beauty of the waves
    Beauty of Nature in its forests, mountains and caves
    She turned to leave and our eyes locked
    A never ending feeling where time stopped
    She walked past me into the crowd, losing herself
    into this world where everyone's both jealous and proud
    I put my feelings to rest and walked away
    hoping we'll meet again someday
    My Only Regret
    She didn't turn
    Neither did I
    Only I remember my watch say 6:05.


  • spread_your_wings23 6w

    Disasters in the Dark

    With summery smiles fluttering to their faces,
    They'll fool you with their eyes
    That open not into their souls
    But to a fairy-tale disguise.
    Oh how well these wilting flowers
    Hide the storms in their skies.

    When demons flood their minds
    And shake their hioeless souls,
    Their screaming hearts are inaudible
    As darkness sucks their youth.
    Come and you might find you, but only younger
    Somewhere in these holes


  • maitrayee11 8w

    The age doesn't matter

    The age doesn't matter, what matters is the heart... The way it respects others in the crowd and when you are alone,
    What matters is the eyes when you take a look at someone,
    What matters is the relationship you maintain with someone,
    What matters is the understanding you have towards someone,
    If it's not within,
    Lose yourself from the heart and soul of the other....
    It's not about age, whose greener or whose geriatric....
    It's about you...
    Of being a much of a Knower

  • beensn 9w

    You made me feel beautiful
    Though I am not
    You made me feel young
    And my age I forgot
    You took me to world of dreams
    Taught me to love my life a lot.

  • youngwriter_13 10w

    The moon and the ocean

    She was his moon,
    He was her ocean,
    And together;
    They gossiped about the stars,
    Sang lullabies for the wind,
    And danced under the rains.
    But in the melancholic end,
    The moon would just sink down below the ocean and then vanish.
    Then the sun would come,
    And the bright day would start,
    But when dark nights would come again,
    The moon would walk through the sky to meet the ocean.
    And they'd again gossip about the stars, sing and dance together,
    So as to form a magical world of their own.
    And the poetic universal rhyme,
    Of days and nights,
    would go on again and again.

    And oh little heart,
    If you ever feel broken,
    Just gaze upon the moon and the ocean,
    For you too shall be someone's moon,
    And someone shall be your ocean.

  • itsmedash007 10w

    "The Town of the Living Dead"-A Musing

    The late winter's night as I sat across the room eyes transfixed gazing into the blemishes of sky
    filled with a blanket of dazzling diamond like minute entities conspiring to let bystanders lose
    time in awe of their glory and beauty. I too one of these looked into their games of forming
    random shapes or constellations as you may have rightly guessed imprinted in the dark pitch
    black canvas like one of Van Gogh's paintings. The night to me appears like his last painting for
    sure before he suffered traumatically to his grave but I'm in awestruck of this night and not in
    shambles mourning an unfateful death. Amongst all these stars there was the everlasting star of
    the late night show hidden behind the childish nonchalant clouds preying upon the old hound
    unaware of its mighty old existence. The never stopping clouds young, ruthless and filled with
    lust for life moving frantically around the aged but surprisingly undull moon. The actual king of
    the night who has stood his ground, thumping upon the twinkling stars. It's serene light guiding
    the wandering souls through lost nights. Oh! How I'd relish the opportunity to sail my night
    through the luscious sea of stars to my moonland. Far far away from the commotion, the
    madness that runs intricately in our lives that we've become complacent captives of our motives that we can't differ the living from the dead. What are we then 'The Living Dead?' running behind money, power and holdings. Have we thought of the adrenaline rush of the exhuming flare of our youthful days in admiration of some bitter love story which we relinquished with utmost difficulty leaving us broken or remembering those chirpy minutes with friends for old time's sake spending time with people who mattered. We've forgotten to live. To enjoy is to live. To fulfil dreams is to live. To admire the beautiful is to live. I'm living when I'm musing in awe of the moon and its pals the dazzling stars. The boats empty, no commuters wandering are these clouds in search of souls waiting to drop them in moonland. All interspersed in letting us live few moments to lie back in some distant land, on the mountain top bareback and barefoot on soft grass breathing fresh gust of sea wind gazing into the moonlit sky. The damp soil touching my
    soul not skin. My putrified heart and soul blended into one for few moments when I let my
    aspersions not take control of me, I exhumed with all due exuberance the thoughts that latched
    onto me and returned my days of chirpy childishness infront of my dazy eyes like a dream I know in the subconscious if I wanted to I could wake up but no I lived it all again in mere few
    seconds. Those days of living shall remain etched in my memory and I headed back for the
    dead and deserted town of the living dead. The living dead my present my future into continuum
    until then the cloud my wayfarer, the stars my bridge and the moon my destination.

  • fouratpoems 11w

    I notice the world is an optical illusion
    People always in pain and confusion

    Relieve your soul from the chaos of your mind
    The message here is to all mankind

    The true vision is not in your eyes
    Realize that and then you'll rize

    Your care and love make you worthy
    No one here is trust worthy

    But when you study each other's existence
    You'll realize the world is all about persistance

  • that_freak 11w

    Young Soul

    She opened up her soul after decades
    Still young with wrinkles on her face


  • poison_girl01 11w


    All we do is live in a moment;
    We desperately want to forget.

  • seainside 12w


  • _truesayings_ 6w

    कल तो जो कहते थे..
    मरने की फुर्सत नहीं

    आज वो फुर्सत में बैठ कर सोच रहे हैं
    जीना कैसे है ।


  • _truesayings_ 12w

    Faith is the tipping point ,
    That decides success or failure.


  • _truesayings_ 13w

    हकीकत में जीने का अब हमने शौक पाल लिया।
    अपने सपनों को आँखों के भीतर खुद मार लिया।


  • _the_introvert_boy__ 13w

    कहते हैं पीने वाले मर जाते हैं जवानी में
    हमने तो बुजुर्गों को जवान होते देखा हैं मैखाने में

  • bird_of_ink 13w

    Well not complete this is just part 1 of 3.
    #love #innocent #monologue #young #foolish #new #old #mystery

    Read More


    Dull croaks outside with the faint smell of earth which comes after a long awaited spell of rain, the cool night breeze and the lo-fi music station had set the mood of Arindam. It was nearing the mid-terms and our poor old protagonist was deep in thought on the subject dealing with hearts and hormones and brains. Only thing different was that he was far from the text book knowledge, for he was immersed with the thought of a girl, a girl which somehow managed to ease by the cracks of his dumb persona, and the thought of expressing his "pure , untainted love".
    [Now that I remember that period, only word that comes to my mind is 'naive'.]
    Morning spells , seldom loved by anyone, is my personal favourite way to start a day. Even after all these years, rain always seem to bring me a sense of serendipity, with a touch of nostalgia. But curse these muddy potholes !!
    [Not since 'that' day]
    "A project requiring two members or one isn't clear yet but start making it from now. And Arindam meet me after the class"- announced our eccentric algebra teacher. What did I do now ? And why is she looking around the class..... Che can't recall her name.
    I can quite clearly reminisce about her kohl outlined eyes, those doe shaped beauties aiming to freeze fire and unintentionally enrapturing anyone and everyone who looks into her eyes. Calling her Medusa -would it be fair ?
    [Those eyes had mystery and coyness blended smoothly , so smooth that I was nearly lost. But besides that, something else seem to be hidden]
    Che, I need to form a group with her for this. But first let me ask her name.
    But hey ,! why that glare ? I was just asking your name, and what do you mean I already know it ? Man what a bitch, I suck at remembering names ya know. Am already hating her.
    What an asshole I was during those days. Without knowing anything I judge, a folly of mine which I suppose I have overcome. But instead of judging now I have developed a vice just as bad if not worse, which is not having any expectations from anyone. But is it really a vice of mine or a virtue burried under the reality of life ?? Time will tell I suppose, time which is not so much in my grasp.
    [Time is the greatest healer. A load of bull. _Arindam]
    So I was presumably invited to her house for the project, or so she says. Man my chance for participation landed in her court, courtesy of our resident eccentric.
    Still, I got to help but hey why is Prabhas being so excited. He invited himself to her house, just go in my stead wannabe cassanova.
    But she got a cute smile. Ehhhh.