"SHALLOW BRIDGE OF STRONG HOPE" - by Chandhu
"Sitting here on this small wooden bridge at midnight, which is connecting two places of my town, resembling my mind connecting two different personalities of myself, pretending to be tough, yet it's so fragile as a rose petal deep inside.The stream of water flowing under this bridge, resembling the chain of thoughts I'm unable to control. Crickets hopping over those Lotus leaves making chirping sounds in chorus, at least making me feel I'm not alone. I'm so broken inside, people said "you're very sensitive for a guy, so don't often open the door wide". Hmm, as if there's a door to my heart ever, I've always put it out open, to the people I care about, Inturn it's left with scars. See ! it's so tender even this pale moonlight is evaporating all the blood it's pumping with affection. It's so desperate to get healed by someone. Sad memories are killing me from inside, I wanna cry so hard right now, but I couldn't. only few drops left for the day, making a thin flimsy layer of tears on my eyes, so less that they even might not want to jump off my eyelids, leaving me all empty and dry. I'm glad for that, also sad for that, Because, they are making it more blurry of this already miserable state. My held back tears are making stars twinkle more in my eyes, it's seeming like they're clicking polaroids of me from above, mockingly saying, "see that whining soul below", to each other. I could wipe my tears right now, but my hands are frozen as if it's a sleep-paralysis nightmare I'm going through. I'm wide awake, yet bewildered. To end all this sorrow at once, the water below the bridge inviting me to pounce. But I won't, because I'm not so timid to run away from life. Townsfolk used to say, this bridge is so shallow that it'll collapse sooner or later. I know it won't !, so I am. We're holding each other in this gloomy night, while I have to decide if I should go back to home, or go forward in search of purpose and meaning of my existence, also to find someone who really cares about, by choosing one of the ends of this bridge, being an optimist with full of hope. Swimming through the quick sand of pain, I'm sure I will reach a shore after all this vain. Now let me rest, O' lonely night !, until the rays of hope spread a carpet for me from the east, by this sunrise."
[ As those crickets stopped chirping for the night, boy got off the bridge, took his guitar and backpack from below, started walking forward towards the warm orange light of dawn, picking up some tune from the morning birds, with a slight smile of clarity on his face, he started whistling along with them. Finally both the silhouette of the boy and his whistle tune faded away into the far East ] #review #Review #freeVerse #poetry

"SHALLOW BRIDGE OF STRONG HOPE" - by Chandhu.


"Sitting here on this small wooden bridge at midnight, which is connecting two places of my town, resembling my mind connecting two different personalities of myself, pretending to be tough, yet it's so fragile as a rose petal deep inside.The stream of water flowing under this bridge, resembling the chain of thoughts I'm unable to control. Crickets hopping over those Lotus leaves making chirping sounds in chorus, at least making me feel I'm not alone. I'm so broken inside, people said "you're very sensitive for a guy, so don't often open the door wide". Hmm, as if there's a door to my heart ever, I've always put it out open, to the people I care about, Inturn it's left with scars. See ! it's so tender even this pale moonlight is evaporating all the blood it's pumping with affection. It's so desperate to get healed by someone. Sad memories are killing me from inside, I wanna cry so hard right now, but I couldn't. only few drops left for the day, making a thin flimsy layer of tears on my eyes, so less that they even might not want to jump off my eyelids, leaving me all empty and dry. I'm glad for that, also sad for that, Because, they are making it more blurry of this already miserable state. My held back tears are making stars twinkle more in my eyes, it's seeming like they're clicking polaroids of me from above, mockingly saying, "see that whining soul below", to each other. I could wipe my tears right now, but my hands are frozen as if it's a sleep-paralysis nightmare I'm going through. I'm wide awake, yet bewildered. To end all this sorrow at once, the water below the bridge inviting me to pounce. But I won't, because I'm not so timid to run away from life. Townsfolk used to say, this bridge is so shallow that it'll collapse sooner or later. I know it won't !, so I am. We're holding each other in this gloomy night, while I have to decide if I should go back to home, or go forward in search of purpose and meaning of my existence, also to find someone who really cares about, by choosing one of the ends of this bridge, being an optimist with full of hope. Swimming through the quick sand of pain, I'm sure I will reach a shore after all this vain. Now let me rest, O' lonely night !, until the rays of hope spread a carpet for me from the east, by this sunrise."
[ As those crickets stopped chirping for the night, boy got off the bridge, took his guitar and backpack from below, started walking forward towards the warm orange light of dawn, picking up some tune from the morning birds, with a slight smile of clarity on his face, he started whistling along with them. Finally both the silhouette of the boy and his whistle tune faded away into the far East ]

#review #Review #freeVerse #poetry

JUDGE WISELY #2

Mary was waiting on the air port for the plane to arrive, it was late.She had with her a purse and a packet of cookies. Beside her sat a very strange looking women she was dresses in a purple woolen shawl.

Mary was hungry and there was still some time left so she ripped the packet open, she took a cookie and ate it glancing at her phone .Then she heared a crackle sound the women beside her has not hesitated and she sneeked a cookie .

Miss marry cooled her down giving a vauge look, she thought what ! A mannerless lady, not having a single look of gratitude, she could have thanked me at least .

It continued the lady beside took a cookoe followed by Mary sneeking two pieces to finish as fast possible.Finally the last cookie was left, the lady took it broke it into halves gave one to Mary and ate the other half with a smile painting her face .

The plane arrived then and Miss Mary sat and settled her down, she was dressed in some rich attire but not thoughts as she saw that her packet of cookies were still in her purse.
#review #Shashwat #shortstory

* WOLFPACK *

Take us to be some knick-knacks,
But there ain’t anybody like my Wolfpack.

Truth is we’re okay to be nothing good at,
Cause we don’t give a damn about The Cadillac.

We not only howl together playfully at Moonlight,
Also we hunt in pack when it’s right,
So try not to trespass our territory at sight.

- Chandhu.

#review #poetry #short #poem #Review

* WOLFPACK *

Take us to be some knick-knacks,
But there ain’t anybody like my Wolfpack.

Truth is we’re okay to be nothing good at,
Cause we don’t give a damn about The Cadillac.

We not only howl together playfully at Moonlight,
Also we hunt in pack when it’s right,
So try not to trespass our territory at sight.

- Chandhu.

#review #poetry #short #poem #Review

''I am not a thief, why do I have to keep telling you that?''
'' maybe because you keep stealing everyone's stuff?''
'' It is not stealing if I plan to give it back."

'' you stole my video game. Are you telling me that I will be getting that back in the near future?"
"uh—"
"Thief !" Someone from the crowd yelled and everyone followed suite.
The entire classroom was in an uproar. Jeers and sneers erupted from all sides, causing 14 year old Sam to cower in fear. His eyes stung with tears as he looked at the faces of the kids he had shared a room with since the 2nd grade. He couldn't recognize any of them. There was nothing familiar about the expression their faces now held.

Sam bit the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from crying out like a baby. Why did Joe have to go and start a scene?

"Don't you have anything to say, huh?" Joe, the bigger of the two boys said. His fingers curled into a fist at his side and with a grunt, he swung around to look at the crowd that had circled around him and a pang of guilt hit him. He wasn't pleased at what he saw. He had been friends with Sam since they were little kids. He liked Sam but Sam had a problem and he just couldn't keep pretending it wasn't there like his sorry excuse for parents did.
He also didn't mean for things to get out of hand. After all, Mom and Dad had taught him that violence is never the answer but these savages he had for classmates were clamouring for a fight. He turned his attention to the scrawny kid that stood in front of him. Sam was a kleptomaniac but he'd never admit it and that pissed Joe off. He couldn't put up with him or defend him anymore each time he "took" something he promised to return but never did.

****
The small man who stood at the entrance of the regal ball room felt out of place in loose linen trousers and a ragged suit jacket. Masquerade balls weren't his thing. Behind the mask that shielded his face were hazel colored eyes that burrowed a hole into the back of the man that stood at the center of the hall—the center of attention—the man who threw this Gala.
You haven't changed one bit, he thought.
His fingers tightened around the shabbily wrapped package he held. He ran his hand through his hair, giving it one last shake. He took a deep breath and pushed through the crowd of diamonds and pearls with purposeful strides.

A set of diamonds rings sat on the perfectly manicured fingers of Joseph Goldberg. His raven black hair was pulled back in a pony tail; not a strand was out of place. Nothing felt better than throwing a fancy party because you just could.
As the Man of the Night, he didn't see the need to mask his identity and so his deep blue eyes were the only exposed set of eyes in the room. Joseph was engrossed in the conversation he was having with his fancy mates, oblivious to the odd looking man that stood behind him.

"I think there's someone with a present for you, Mr Goldberg" One of men who had noticed the odd man pointed out to Joseph Goldenberg.

Stopping mid-sentence, Goldberg turned around to see who this person was. Not that he could know who unless the person introduced himself. He cast a swift glance at the hands of the man. They were empty except for a worn out leather watch that hung loosely around his wrist. He hid his surprise at the rather simple appearance of the man that stood in front him with a stiff smile.

He asked politely, "oh! Is that for me?"

The strange looking man said nothing but only continued to look at Joseph Goldberg.

Sam tossed the package at the feet of Goldberg and just before he turned on his heel to leave, he said, loud and clear:

''It is not stealing if I plan to give it back."

#wca #wcss #review

I was on my shoot that day, it was my first day to direct a tv show. I was very excited. I have been preparing myself for last ten years for this day only. I called Amma for blessings, but Baba didn't talk. It's ok, it's already been ten years since we talk. He didn't want me to join this job and to work for entertainment industry. But it is the only job that I could do. Its been long time but today I feel like it is my first day. Everyone is congratulating and I wanted Baba would have been happy too and give me blessings. Father and son's relationship is like this only. In movies father is like friend sometimes they both have drink together. But for me and Baba it's like a dream. But I know he loves me and his blessings are always with me. Whenever I am confused about me and Baba. I remember the day. The Day when Baba have Beaten me very hard like he wanted to kill me. He hit me with wooden bat, hand and his feet whatever he got and I was just trying to save myself from his attacks. I was crying very loud. He was very angry that he was throwing me out of house but I was resisting and saying sorry that I won't do it again. But he hold me that hard that my t shirt and pent torn apart. But he didn't stop. He was angry because  I steal money from my younger sister's piggy bank. And not for the first time but routinely till I got caught. I was like please papa I won't do it again but he was not ready to listen. My mother and big brother didn't say a word. Than my uncle came and save me. 

In the evening, Baba was not home and I was sitting in the corner of the room but no one was talking to me. I was like I never do it again. But I have done a crime and now I was feeling like an amateur criminal in jail who is silent and like should I talk to them? but I didn't get that courage. So I was sitting alone in the corner feeling guilty. Then Baba came from outside and gave me a packet but went out but didn't say a word. I was like what is it. Amma, brother and sister were also looking at me. Very slowly and silently I opened the packet. It has a T shirt and jeans. I didn't know what my feelings should be. But that day I got to know that this relationship is very complicated. We don't say love you or even we don't talk but from inside I know that he loves me and his blessings are always with me. I was lost in my thought just than one assistant came in and said that sir shot is ready. I moved towards the set and I was very excited as it was The Day.

#review #Story

The hand that held me in the darkest of days,
The ear that heard me in all the ways.
The only smile in the harrowing night,
Only apology after every fight.
You were are and will always be in my every song,
My best friend forever and for very long.

#MuskanMishra #review

Maze


Stuck are we in a maze?

The ways we try, all go into waste.

To rise up, it's in our veins.

But the cluttered mind cuts to haze. 

Not wanting to say, we find it hard to face.

But isn't it true, evil in us gets our gaze?

The light seemed to dim, all our fakes.

Which we kept glowing, though our faith.

Fluttering around the milky way like Halley's comet, 

Back to the point from where it began.

Is it the maze where we began?

#review #poem #pmwrites

#AnonWrites
#wca
#wcss
#shortstory
On the sixth floor, the empty floor of his school, he was standing in front of the biology lab and then he entered inside the lab and there he was falling in the endless fall from the sixth floor. Q , a dull, lazy, slim, tall, shabby, and a notorious student was sleeping in his Geography class. Just when he heard his teacher shout and he woke up suprised, dropping all the books on the floor. The teacher smiled in return and moved on with her class. He was excited about his strange dream. Then a boy called his name and told that the teacher is calling him on the sixth floor. He went on the sixth floor. Called out his teacher. And then there she was in the biology lab. He was amazed as he dreamed about it in his sleep. Deja vu he thought. She called out for him. He went inside the biology lab. And then he heard his teacher shout. And he woke up surprised. Dropping all the books on the floor. The teacher smiled in return and continued with her class. He was having a dream in his dream. He was amazed. And then an announcement " Q, please report to your science teacher on the sixth floor."
Amazed. Afraid. Worried Q was climbing the stairs in great concern. He reached the sixth floor. He was so afraid that he ran downstairs, but there he was standing on the sixth floor all over again. He tried so many times but ended on the sixth floor. Then his mam called out his name. He went inside the biology lab. And then he heard his teacher shout. And he woke up surprised. Dropping all the books on the floor. The teacher smiled in return and continued with her class. Je was having a dream in a dream in a dream. He was trapped in time with no escape whatsoever.....

Pictures

Her eyes are like lenses of a telescope,
That can see beyond planets and stars,
Crashing onto crater of moon filled in hope,
And within a transient speed of light afar.

Her mind is like a wandering submarine,
Immersed to lurk in deep depth of seafloor,
As it picked up scenes that are too obscene,
And replaced them with bubbles of bliss.

Her heart is the mastermind of everything,
Or known as a source behind her eminent success,
As it lures unwanted confusion and feelings,
That causes her to drop on her knees in distress,
Like a spring break that brings children to swings,
Messes are everywhere as they are blessed,
To know that memories are made like a fashion dress.

Her wish is to picture her wild thoughts,
And share them as art with the rest of the world,
But her hands aren't meant for drawing,
Thus, she uses colored ink to paint them in words.

#review #poetry #poem #ying

The sky's nature turned to azure with swirling shades of light blue and paches of white.I sat beneath the ash-tree , whose tattered branches casted a shadow from the partly obscured sun. Whiff that wet air carried, the petrichor of wet glossy grasses that spread along the vicinity. It was mother nature alarming the visit of monsoon

#review #scene

I got beyond my comfort zone and wrote something thats a higher level than I write Tell ke if it provides the neccesary imagery .

Judge wisely #3

Rick, a boy of six, there was something very different about him. He did not look at things like we did. You are often proven wrong if the points listed did not match with yours but that never proves the fact that you are wrong, there can be more than one angle to look at things .

Rick was up for a journey to find God, not because he had a wish that was left fullfilled but the fact that he took his mother up in heavens.

He for the fact knew his mother would be much happier there, she didn"t have to wash dishes all the day or get slaps without a reason but still the wants of the heart cannot be explained it wants what it wants.

The little mind had come up with an idea! . If mom cannot come back he should travel to heaven to meet her, maybe there god might allow him to take his mother away.

Question was how? Books never teacher one the path to heaven. His father a glum - faced pious looking sponge - a drunk yard, it was hard to even have a conversation with him without stimulating his manly wisdom.

On one fine day, when the sky was crystal clear, clouds of diffrent shapes were floating all around, he saw a kite flying in the sky, an idea popped his little brain . " Why not send a kite and bring her back" . It was not possible for him to climb even if the kite floated as he was a kid .

So he planned everything muting any chance of faliure , first he will have to sneek some cash from hia fathers pocket, its never possible to convince him for anything.

Next he had to buy a strong thread it was too risky to get her down  with a thin one ! , also he needed someones to write her name postmans deliver wrong post even after writing names in big letter, God has to handel so many errands it was possible that he sent someone else instead but the sorrowful part was he never had know to write he never went to school till then forget the fact he did not even knew what going school was like . Later he came up with an idea to give it to his neighbour friend to do that job .

Everything was planned now, he went and sneeked a pound from his dads wallet which was hanging on the door, he was too small to reach high, but the craze of bringing the mother made him grew taller not in height but thoughts he got a stool and his work was done.

The next day he bought the kite and thread -  he mentioned the fact that the thread must be stong . He got his mother's name written as "Mother " in bold letters on the kite.

He was sitting in the axile, passing the thick thread or to be fair " rope " in the kite, his friend was with him helping the job must be done before father comes ought he will not allow.
The weather was fine, a best day to execute ths plan .

But My Lord! the day was not with the boy! , father came in shouting " Bloody arsehole, now are you on the path of pickpoketing are you?  . Anger giving way to his loud voice , he came in tore the kite into pieces gave to tight spats to Rick only to see that the kite had a page on it which said, "Mother ".

Rick wanted to bring his mother back his friend said and ran out. It was the first time his father had a pinch of regret in his face.

#review #shortstory

#wca
#wcss
#prompt
#review
Title: That thief.
Hi!! I am Talia, Talia Fernandez. This is my story.
My life started on a beautiful note. I belong to a perfect family, where everyone understands and respects each other, attended the dream school of my city, Mystic Falls High School. A place perfect for making erudite students. No divisions based on social popularity, everyone carried on with their own business and respected others.

But, just like everything, this phase came to an end, when he walked in. Tyler Montero, famed thief of Mystic Falls. He created queen bees, jocks and bullies, and those who didn't join him, suffered. I didn't, and I was bullied for two years. So, I left that school for one year, to create a new me, with the self esteem that the Thief took away.

Right now, I am standing in front of the same Mystic Falls High School. And as if this didn't make me feel nervousness, the fact that Tyler, the same Tyler Montero was standing right in front of me, certainly did.
"Oh! Hi Talia, long time no see, how've you been?" His greeting sounded genuine and... guilty?
"Hi, Thief." I greeted back.
"I'm not a thief, told you then and am telling you now. I AM NOT A THIEF."
"Well, you used to steal people's stuff."
"But I returned it to them also."
"But, you stole something of mine and never returned it, thief"
"What, I stole nothing from you!"
"This is where you go wrong. You stole my self esteem, thrashed it pretty badly, and never returned it. Do you want to say you will return it now?"
"Ugh....."
"Bye, thief, see you later."

8 years back,
you left me.
You kicked me out
like I was nobody.

I begged at you
to tell me my fault,
cried for an answer.
But I was thrown away
without any closure.

I cried and cried
until all of my tears dried.
I lived with pain,
stopped enjoying the rain.
Every thing inside me was killing
and I was just living.

Lost weight,
got swollen eyes.
Everyone knew,
I was living a dull life.

Slowly, I started accepting
that you ain't coming,
I gathered some strength
and promised myself
that I won't cry again.

All these years
I kept my promise,
my eyes had no tears.
I put myself first,
I got a feeling of
a new birth.

A successful lawyer,
I've become.
I receive a message
from you on my phone.

Your message reads,
"hi, how are you?"
I sit there numb,
without any clue
wondering, if that's really you.

I check your name again,
as my memories take me
to where it all began.
All emotions gushing in me,
I remember each day
of pain and agony.

I reply back
and ask about you.
You text me,
"I need an advice from you."and

For all you past deeds,
you apologize
and tell me that your issue is legal.
At that point I realize,
success brings back people.

Today, I broke my promise
and cried again.
Not for you, but for myself.
All these years were so difficult,
now, I feel relieved to know,
it wasn't my fault.

#everyone
#review
#poem
#AS

LOVE DEMANDS
PART 3
Rosie sat with the ice tray, she took the knife that was stabbed on the goose - gave the knife a good swing stabbing it on Easton - It didn't even take seconds before he collapsed .

He couldn't speak as his throat was cut, but his eyes said it all, even though at the slightest of his conciousness he knew it was his end but still for no reason he had a glimpse of shock in his eyes.
 
Rosie's brethe by now had become shallow, she was burning in freezing winter .It was only after seconds she realsied about what she has done .

Easton lay on the floor, he was still puking blood out of his mouth.His throat had a big red slit from which his life was flowing. Rosie was holding the knife , it was red with blood , she had to push the air into her to breathe.

Rosie was confused or say wondering what she has done; she took a minute took deep brethes relaxed , by then Easton was dead . She took the knife and threw it into the burning fire , Her countance seemed as if she had just killed a rat and not a man .

Now the point was, what was to be done with his body , his body lay near the dinning table , he had changed to a night -dress which was colored with a slight shade of blue. There was tiny drops of blood on her wadorbe.

She couldn't think of what was to be done with the body, she thought if she were to surrender then it would bring hardly bring any good to her amd her unborn baby laws are tight blood for blood, what will happen if they try to kill the baby. She couldn't take a chance first she went to the kitchen trying to keep herself calm.

She was repeating," Nothing as happened do not worry " . All this time only one question swung her mind , What should I do with the body. Soon she had changed her clothes and dressed in a white night attire. She went to the dinning table and sat on the chair , the blood by now had made his way to half the room.

For now she acted as if there was nothing in front of her, she switched on her tv, took a knife and then began tearing the half - left goose apart, completly ignoring that someone lay dead, she often gave some giggles, joyus laugh on seeing something out of the box on telly.

After she was full, she went to the kitchen cleaned the dishes and came back to the dinning hall she pulled a chair towards the dead body,taking a sigh she kept her hand on her hand giving way to disappointment.

It was the fact that she loved her but she made herself understand to cease love fade One has to take some rough steps, her face was still gente . She stood up and crouched down taking Eastons phone.

She opened the chat with Luoisa , her breathing had began to get shallower eacg time she scrolled the screen, her facial contanence changed with speed of light from horror-dissapointment to hate.

"Why don't you leave her tell her its not your life" -Luosia

" She will go mad if I say anything, she is off her medications from about a month now, she thinks she is fine" -Easton

Anger was dribbling her red face as she read, her face which was pink with cold had turned to a shade of red.She kept the phone on the dinning table went to the kitchen, got a bandage and she carefully rapped it around Easton's throat to prevent any further flow oc blood.

The blood was all over the room,she had to mop the floor.The body lay on one side when she did this all, by then the blood had stopped ozzing out his body . It took her hours to remove the stains of blood.

It was the time to fix the body, she thought she should just throw him in the near by stream but that was risky . She decided  to lock him in the fridge that was kept in the basement , tears were rolling down her cheeks while she brought the body and locked in the refrigirator.

Even after the bandage the blood had flown all over, she had to mop over again . The clock said four. #review

I am relinquished
Endeavouring to discover the authentic soul
I stared myself in reflector
My orifices gawked frigidly
Concealing mysteries and darkness
Orifices impeding the outpouring of tears
My jaws are twirled
Ceasing itself to chuckle
Yearning to giggle
Craving someone to believe her words
Her spirit is broken
Ravaged into chunks
Substantiated flaws of mutiny
Her heart mislay morality in herself
Her marbles are sickened
Full of suicidal notions
Reminiscing about past brutal
Those intolerable agonies of past
She darted at her erratic wings
Wings are halted and gawked awful
She no protracted can glide
She no lanky can perceive contentment
She looked to discover accomplishment
But herself being smashed by the world
She gazed at her simmered face
Full of blotches and gashes
She dissembles a camouflage
To suppress her darkness and anxieties
She felt deserted in the world
Her own silhouette evacuated her secluded
- Aira
#review #poetry #ae

I still wake up with nightmares
in the middle of a dead night.
Thousands of cuts on my arm,
and a couple of failed attempts
to kill my heart forever,
and still the pain is as fresh as it was
during those few yet long hours.

But even after drowning in this,
black ocean without a shore to be seen,
Do you know what finally gave me the will to live?
My pen ,ofcourse.

My mind at those times was overflowing with
emotions I couldn't share.
Yes ,you're right, that incident is still a secret
to everyone around, but now you know.
And indeed, Im a coward for always
telling lie and that is,
‌"I'm fine"

Back to the topic,
My pen, my dear pen.
It amused me how I could put down
My unsaid feelings in that white paper.
Fill up it's blankness with my ink and my heart.
And sorry this has been a long poem and
I know it's been hard to keep up.
But if I have to make you understand
why I'm in love with my pen,
I had to tell you this from the very start.
How a terrifying gift,
Left me with a gift I really love,
And for me, my pen- "That's what you are,
and more"
And for you, you know now,
the reason behind why I write,
and why I pen my feelings down.



#princhi #review #everyone #poetry #noshare

#review
#poetry
#Aarushi
TITLE: BROKEN CHAINS
She was tied to a chair,
and bounded with chains,
she is the one on whom,
go flying all the blames.

The chair was her family,
who held her dumb,
bounded her by rules and resistance,
left her helpless and numb.

The chains are the people of society,
who blame her for everything she does,
stop her from going outside,
and make her do household work.

She is a helpless girl,
who is always pulled down,
and is more for the society,
rather for her own.

Her watery eyes,
have now dried,
as for so long,
she has cried.

In her dry eyes,
now burns a fire,
the fire of revenge,
against the liar.

The liar who at once,
decided her destiny,
but now she knows,
that he is just an enemy.

The fire has now reached her soul,
she is fuming with fire,
now she will push her limits,
and punish the liar.

The chain has melted by her wrath,
and the chair has turned into ash,
now she'll breathe,
in an air that is fresh.

Man's Nature

when hoes increase in weight
and trapped sweats find their way
sighs escape some men
they wish the land would shrink

when farms become hairy
so greeny that soils are screened
still sighs escape their mouths
but with a wish for the skin to spread

#AhmadMusa #review #poem

#kr
#poem
#review
#everyone

Come, Let's Eat

I don't recall which holiday,
But it surely was a big one.
A sheep to kill, a prayer to say,
We only had the latter fun.
Too low on bills to cram the plate;
A gloomy day providing crumbs.
I felt a thrill, a sense of hate;
My tummy moaned, "I want to numb."
By the doorsill, a sheep was slain.
My grumpy stomach craved for some—
I have to fill, or lose my traits.
A baby sheep bled for the feast.
Is there a pill to conjure fate?
I hardly ever heard sheep's bleats
And, without will, needed a taste.
A hungry boy to be elite,
His heart not still, in search of faith.

Dusk had fallen.
My mother returned home, hands empty.
A joyful omen,
A neighbor knocked the door, hands plenty.
Plates do brighten,
A brother to mend the inside, see.
My guts stiffen;
The neighbor invited, "Come, let's eat."