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𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢
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"Because, sometimes, typing your emotions is all you need."

I caught myself writing some poems on these late nights when sleep leaves me by myself at the bedside. Gather I could share some of them here, noticing how little of them I found in the Art & Creativity Posts. Feel free to add a poem of your own here! I'm not a poet by any length, simply a writer seeking to put life into the words I type on my screen, so this is simply an amateur's art. <g>
(And do keep in mind the Forum Rules when adding anything new. )

Interacting with this thread to just leave a comment is also fine. But I'm creating this topic to share poems, so if you want to start chatting do direct your conversation to a Private Message or the Smalltalk forum.

23:36

Don’t ye dare say
That it is peaceful when it rains
For it is not

It's melancholic to witness
How even the sky can cry

Maybe it could be peaceful
If it arrives at that moment
Quiet, soft, and gentle

Alas, whenever it rains
My mind is anything but silent

So it is not peaceful when it rains

It follows the moon

With a soft light
Reaching for the sky
The wolf hunts
As it runs

The path it drives
With burnt irises
Hearing the wind howl
Telling it to halt

Why chase the moon?
When they've left!
When they lurked!
It replied to the wind-

“I’m pursuing them
because I understand
how much I need their glow
after being blinded by the sun.”

I didn't say goodbye

When we parted ways
I didn't say goodbye
I said farewell
for it was too hard
to pronounce to the world
that we would never meet again.

Little did I know
that I mixed the words
and their meanings
because of that lump on my throat.


The weather was crazy

It was a hot day
that brought a rainstorm
with a breathless wind
creating a suffocating sultriness
that made me sweat,

even if I was just standing in a stalemate by the porch.

Time brought company

One of my potatoes inside a paper bag
The one left at a corner of my kitchen
Started to grow green.

Green enough to catch my attention.

Soon I was cooking for myself
After days of skipping repast
And eating half-hearted meals at the table
Dreading the loud sound of cutlery against ceramic.

At least today
I had dinner with a single leaf as my living company.

Hate

I hate
How quickly
People of power
Tend to forget
That blood
Is red.

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