A poem about being in love with nature.

A girl in grey short skirt and white shirt, lying on a tree branch hanging above water with an open book lying on her face as if she got tired after reading the book and just lay down for a while to rest.
A girl in grey short skirt and white shirt, lying on a tree branch hanging above water with an open book lying on her face as if she got tired after reading the book and just lay down for a while to rest.
Photo by Pixabay from Pexels

I’d love to think
That I am in love!

With the fire burning yonder and its billowing smoke
With the hanging branches of the willows around
With the lone cuckoo calling unseen from the trees
With the sky and the sun and the clouds and the moon

I’d love to think
That I am in love!

With the nature that is around me
With the soul that resides in me
With the people who surround me
And with the wish for love that is in me

I’d love to think
That I am in love!

With lord and land
With the…


Photo by Dương Nhân from Pexels

A poem about hurt when you are forced…


A poem about the combination of rain and sadness.

View of road through the wet windshield of a car on a rainy day with dark clouds in the sky, damp dark road below and trees lining one side of the road and buildings the other.
View of road through the wet windshield of a car on a rainy day with dark clouds in the sky, damp dark road below and trees lining one side of the road and buildings the other.
Photo by veriret . on Unsplash

Why
When sorrow is
Keeping me down and out
Do the black pouring clouds
Bleak-en my blues?
With their dark somber hues

Why
When my heart is
Heavy with sadness
Do the raindrops seem
Like they are the tears of the brooding skies
Commiserating with me and my bleary eyes

Sometimes when you are sad, the dark skies and the downpour reinforces the despair. You celebrate your blues, sitting alone in a comfortable corner of your room, by the window, with a hot cup of coffee in hand, recalling some fond memories and the realization of the lack of any…


A poem about the difference in perspective of two people regarding a relationship where one treats it as a pastime and the other one considers it as a lifeline.

Photo by Garon Piceli from Pexels

For you, it’s a joke
But for me, it’s life
For you! Momentary attention
And the lapse of it
For days on end
Matters not
But for me
Pining for your care
When I need it
And not merely
When you deign to bestow it
Means the world
For you! Telling me to move on
While holding me close
Is easy for you; as if
You are doing right by me
But for me, the illusion
That you care for me
And want the best for me
Because perhaps
You think less of yourself
Is a motivation to stay
To adhere to you
And to extol you
So you may think yourself
Worthy of me; for me
For you! Quitting on me
Whenever you so chose
And then…


A poem about wanting to give up.

A sad girl sitting on a wooden ledge with her head bowed to her knees and the water shimmering in the background with mellow evening light.
A sad girl sitting on a wooden ledge with her head bowed to her knees and the water shimmering in the background with mellow evening light.
Photo by Pixabay from Pexels

Wouldn’t it be better to shrivel up and die?
Wouldn’t it be good to jump from a cliff mighty high?
When you have to breathe and to exist as a mere routine
When life stretches before your eyes but out of reach like the sky?

When the decisions of your life are governed by others, and you do not have the freedom to chose for yourself, and when obliging others is the only way there is, you feel suffocated, your will to fight for yourself to survive is defeated. …


A story about children finding their way around being disciplined.

An angelic smiling baby girl peeking out naughtily from under a small white tent.
An angelic smiling baby girl peeking out naughtily from under a small white tent.
Photo by Tatiana Syrikova from Pexels

They lived in the employees’ colony annexing the Post Office where their father served as a senior officer in the early 70's. Bano was seven and her little brother A.H was five. As strict as their mother was, the two of them ought to have been pretty disciplined children, but their situation actually was quite the contrary.

As most children are at that age, they were both quite curious and mischievous. Their mom often had to resort to unique punishments to discourage them from their escapades. …

Graveheart Neel

An aspiring poet, a regular 9–5 employee trying to break free from the monotony of routine life; hoping for cathartic expression of my literary self..

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