REALITY |Poem|

REALITY

Image credit: https//.image_searchman.1559.com

When reality hits that makes widow eye weep.

All she do is face away and cry,

Can't stand nor rise, just deep sad inside,

Hear not seem be better by morning.
So is reality still longer what is hurt.

Nobody sees what's actually wrong,

Girls at middle school and all this pressure,

Getting abused and being called a mong,
Have put on black and loving mourners
Looking with pretty ruth upon your pain.

All the sweet tones she listens
Forthwith deep into a tear.
That on herself such murderous pain commits.

The world will be her window, and still weep

Then will swear beauty herself is black.
You have seen roses damask'd, white and red
The mistress reality are nothing like the sun.

And were once kind unfriends now,

Even, commits herself who have lived for crime,
Or have not seen dwellers on form and favour
Lose all, and more by paying too much pains

Friends are leaving and moving on,
And weeping and sorrow are still her night.

Look, what reality cannot shine
Commit to these waste blanks and constantly cry,
Weep to have that which it fear to lose
But see no way out but die,

What's the point living in a lie?
My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
And soon to you, as you to me as ransom of pain being payed.

That in black ink her pain shall still shine no longer,
Painting her age with beauty of pains,
Her pain shall in these black lines be defaced.
If all were minded so, the time should cease,
And they sing shall live, and she in them still green.

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I cannot say I remember

image credit: pinterest Then suddenly they showed the faces The change had found where they lived The names were replaced too quickly They found where they were hid Circled in wagon filled tragedies No one rides off to the west Attention now asks for a holiday While famila is held to the test I cannot say I remember Reading in foreign tongues How I wish it were yesterday And this world today was still young.

Grief |Poem|

Grief /Poem Image credit: https//www. image search.com This is how I have dealt With grief most of my life sharing it on paper instead of humans It feels safe that way, words don't feign sympathy and paper doesn't stutter It makes the grief feel projected As if happening to another person, Not me, never me, never now As if I am a mere character in a distant story As if the grief will end after the full stop, after the end As if fiction will drown reality And reality seem fictitious But of late, of late the fiction seems to be a maze A maze I have spent too long in A period longer than forever And now, it is too late to get out of and for human touch. If you like this poem or have anything to share, comment below or write at briambredeemson700@gmail.com

YEARNING |POEM|

Picture source:www.IndiaToday.com Many gorgeous solid surface hath passed by; Where all the graceful flowers are blowing, Where all the wings are glorifying the skies, where all the dragon-flies are hopping with the river, When all the lands are praying for him. The season had succeeded to change I can't put the picture of what's that..? I'm speechless as a stone. As I filled the foreign land, I see the film was forming into night and thundering; Clothes were torn as dirty As I stood there by the bed; Under the foreign skies In winter hail and summer tempest. Besides this country; Sing thy ole school sweet. O, I remember thy mother repast luscious; The smile of dear on thy eyes The gentle cry of boys on my thine ears The memories of the thy brothers and sisters are precious; Yet unduty for my homeland, We put on hold, your dream-your-lives. Thou left thy mothers and thy fathers Thee left behind thy brothers and...

Thabaan Kabin

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