Sweetest Soul

One large cup of sugar,

You are just like that.

I can mix you with warm milk,

And stir in some chocolate.

Sprinkle some sunshine,

Decorate with little rainbow.

The taste of it all,

Yum.

That is you, sweetest soul.

And I’m blessed

To have you in my life.

 

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Only He

I wish to write,

A poem as beautiful as the butterfly.

 

As colourful and bright,

Shining in the sunlight.

 

Magical to the eye,

Floating in the sky.

 

Goes on without any reservations or map,

Like it’s wild sprit one can’t trap.

 

Silly me just writes,

But only he can create beautiful butterflies.

 

 

 

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I regret the end.

End it is,

End is sad,

But a happy end,

Which puts a smile,

When we close the book.

A story with happy ending.

It is sad to close the book.

But it’s satisfying worth of time,

Is just that last smile.

I want that end.

 

End is hard,

I agree, it hurts.

But a half read book,

By the night lamp,

Keeps calling,

For completion.

And the anxious heart of the reader,

Wants that satisfaction.

I’m your book,

And you my reader.

 

Our story,

We choose now,

Turning a page closer to the end.

To Romance, erotic or tragic ending.

Good writers, we have been,

Let’s agree on the ending,

Give a ending worth cherishing.

And then we close this book.

Let’s make a book worth reading,

Over and over again.

 

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Irony

img_0227-1Risks, maybe thrilling.

Hope, can be torturous.

Damaged, somehow clearer.

Fear, an uncanny protector.

Time, a healer and a killer.

Love, sometimes a curse.

Truth, may also be imperfect.

Restrictions, bizarrely sexy.

Failure, in a certain way a restart.

Burning bridges, can be kind.

And not getting the love of your life,

Sometimes it’s fine.

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