Archive for September, 2018


Filled, Full, Overflow

This head is filled with dreams

Overflowing of ideas.

This heart is full of love

Overflowing of emotions.

Sometimes it’s a good thing

Though often, it gets her in trouble.

Apart

I am here

You are there

Worlds apart are we

Is there still hope for us?

A Poet’s Canvas

Why do sadness fill a poet’s canvas?

There are words of love

Of hope

Of giving

Of joy

.

But most of the walls are filled with tears of hurt

Of betrayal

Of scars from fighting fears

Of darkness

.

And the canvas is blank once more

What will it be filled this time?

Back To Earth

And I hate that I am in love with the man on the moon

While I am stuck here on earth.

I hate that I’m in love with the stars that are his eyes

While I do nothing but look up and gaze in admiration.

I send kisses through comets with the hope he receives them well.

In return, he sends falling stars with the hopes he may fall to earth, back to me…..someday.

Do Castles Grow On Trees?

Prince charming is a myth or perhaps long dead

For no longer do they rescue damsels, they end up hurting them instead.

But sometimes princesses still wish for a knight in armor

To climb the tower, profess undying love and be their savior.

Someone to vanquish the evil witch and break the curse

To be there for better or worse.

Still, no longer does a valiant prince come and the princess no longer waits

They are all forgotten in the past now as they forge their own fates.

They are all but whispers, carried by the breeze

Because castles no longer grow on trees.

I’ll Be Fifty

Twenty years from now seems quite far

But not as far as it was before

Creeping slowly

People ask me

Where I think I’ll be.

Do I worry or should I worry?

That will lead me nowhere

I know for sure I’ll climb that stage

And I will welcome that age,

If given a chance.

As Jason Mraz said, I won’t worry my life away

By then, I’d be happy to have been fifty.

Terribly

I will miss you terribly

Like the sun misses the sky at night

Like the stars misses the moon each time it becomes new

Like the flowers miss the rain

.

I will miss you terribly

As you go along a new journey

I pray all the best for you

And I pray you will find your way back to me, like you always do

Where Do You Bury The Dead?

A night blanketed by mist

Not like other nights that have past

Tonight is colder and quieter.

.

A hooded figure roams the empty streets

Door to door collecting what others have thrown away

Old relationships

Heartaches and heart breaks

Emotions

Lies

Tears

Even happiness that others neglected

Memories they prefer not to look back to.

.

The unwanted feelings

Things that have been erased

The hooded figure takes them all

Bury them not in cemeteries

But someplace else.

unbolt me

the literary asylum

Rishita Sanya

What has to happen will happen...

Dr. Eric Perry, PhD

Psychology to Motivate | Inspire | Uplift

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I want to be rich. Rich in love, rich in health, rich in laughter, rich in adventure and rich in knowledge. You?