Poetry
In-Sync
I don’t want a relationship, I want a happy life; I don’t want to be a girlfriend ‘cause I want to be your loving wife.
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Immerse yourself in captivating poetry. Explore the beauty of words, emotions, and imagery through our diverse collection of verses. Experience the transformative power of poetry with us.
I don’t want a relationship, I want a happy life; I don’t want to be a girlfriend ‘cause I want to be your loving wife.
She is a celebration of colour and metal. bright eyes pulled wide and heavy with paint her decorated skin rising with the crowd she is
If only we could choose the Days of woes Possibly sometimes snooze the trouble that follows. Every time I fall I stay still, like a
Stars shine the brightest, Now all have lost their glow! Honey tastes the sweetest, Now even a drop gives me a bitter blow! Once I
The smell of boiling rice from the kitchen reminds me of you Ma, Now I’m recalling the times we sat together And how you served
As an African child I crawled on my mama’s arms Searching for an imaginary house Which bore me with a fancy view Of the passing
The blazing fire did not seem bright As darkness was closing in It seemed to take its own pace As it was not in haste
I fill my days complaining I fill my days whining I fill my days moaning Of all that is not right. I fill my days
I hardly believe in second chances. Once a cheater is always a cheater. You can frantically doubt my stances, Like I am standing in your
Sky is blue, And mostly It’s true. The darkest of clouds, Cut loose, Rains and drizzles, No gleam, and sometimes even the whitest of cloud
My gaze caught a flaunting leaf, Brown, dusky, old and fallen. Rustling doughtily to the tune played by the; Gusty wind, with a high relief.
Days pass by, Some days start blissfully, Some other days start miserably, But, Love of my life, He sticks to my mind like no others,
Scribble scrabble Goes the couple Dilly dally Goes dear Sally I will pluck my love A bucket of rose And hope to God She
Thousands of hope Millions of stories Beyond one’s scope. Only if I could Turn back it’s pages I probably would Rectify its stages. But now
As the passing clouds we go Across the various stages of life Amongst the unknown, our victory we sow As unyielding as a swordsman’s knife
My ink is blood and sometimes it can have tints of rainbows. I would smile through the woes, But don’t you ever read my journal,
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