Oh! Boy! Oh! Boy You're so moody— destroy all the toys Why do you cry so wild? You little annoying child I merely looked- you started crying so loud I think your father does not feel so proud Phone snatched by your hand You fly into rage- roll on the land Tell me, why do you cry so wild? You little annoying child Shut up! Why are you screaming? It's just your daydreaming You're always so selfish boy Don't let anyone touch that filthy toy Now the toy in my hand, little child Lol! Again you started crying so wild You're a very sneaky little thing! Can I call you a CRYLAND'S king? Even the cat slaps you, little king Still, you want to rule over everything It's not the best way you're mild Such drama! This world feels fooled and styled You lie so peacefully in your mama's lap But then you yawn and take a nap The shining Beauty in your heart is pure Yet your crying is wild, not a lion's roar So, why do you cry so wild? You little annoying child There are many great reasons to fly Don't you think Never Kissed the Sky There are vast skies to fly Don't waste time just to cry The shine is in wisdom— not just in your golden hair No more wild crying today— Don't you dare
By Karan w. about a year ago in Poets
She brings me sunshine with her smile challenges me, coaxes my very best— even when I resist. - She is fierce, intelligent, emotionally mature,
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
I have a dream, Not the kind that fades at dawn, But one that blazes in the soul Like a star that keeps the night warm. It sings in silence,
By Muhammad Abdullahabout a year ago in Poets
Love is not a whisper lost in the wind— It is the wind, and the whisper within. It is not just fire—it is the sun, Warming the soul till the night is done.
I was a thorn upon the breeze, A brittle voice, a rustling sneeze Of sorrow’s breath, of fire and drought— But Love came softly, burned me out.
By the wind, by the leaf, I lived. And I live still. I was the whisper of a morning breeze, Soft on your skin, tender as hope.
In emerald veils and ruby flame, Above the clouds, the Quetzal came— A sovereign bird in sacred flight, Cloaked in dawn’s transcendent light.
In the belly of the dusk, when the moonlight limps, A creature stirs with delicate limbs. Silent wings and a needle-thin beak,
O Inland Taipan, crowned in sand, With venom held in slender hand, Thou art no villain of the tale— But Man, ah Man! The true betrayal.
Beneath the sun-scorched scar of sand, Where silence slithers across the land, There moves a breathless, coiled command— The Inland Taipan, death unmanned.
Above the din where cities groan, Beyond the clouds where dreams are blown, There flies a thought the winds have known— A Peregrine of flame and bone.
I see you. Not the smile you wear like a brittle mask, But the storm behind your eyes— The broken glass glittering beneath your words.
