Mental Health
The Eternal Embrace of Parents
In this vast world, so wide and deep, Where promises fade and loyalties sleep, There shines a bond, steadfast and true, The love of parents, unmatched by few. Through sleepless nights and weary days, They guide your steps in countless ways. With gentle hands and hearts so pure, Their care is a love you can always be sure. When storms of life come crashing near, And shadows whisper of doubt and fear, It’s their arms that shield, their words that mend, Their faith in you, a love without end. They see your worth when the world turns blind, They hold your heart when you’re in a bind. No treasure or wealth can ever compare, To the gift of parents who always care. They celebrate your smallest wins, And forgive your faults, your every sin. Through your stumbles, they stand tall, A pillar of strength through it all. When the world grows cold and friends depart, It’s parents who warm your aching heart. Their sacrifices, silent and unseen, Their love eternal, steady, serene. In their eyes, you’ll always belong, A child, their hope, their lifelong song. Even when paths take you far away, Their love will follow, come what may. So cherish them now, while they’re near, Speak your love, make it clear. For parents are gifts, rare and divine, The truest companions through life’s climb. When all fades away, one truth will remain, Their love endures through joy and pain. Parents, the angels we often forget, A love so pure, we owe a debt. Hold them close, let gratitude flow, For they’re the ones who’ll never let go. In their embrace, life’s meaning is clear— The ones who truly care are always here.
By Aysha Akhter about a year ago in Poets
Palestine: A Cry for Freedom, A Poem of Survival
Oh land of olive trees and sunlit skies, Where dreams are born but often die. A cradle of faith, of hope, and tears, Your story echoes through the years. Palestine, your soil runs deep, With ancient roots that refuse to sleep. Your hills remember songs of old, Your valleys whisper tales untold. A land divided, a people confined, Yet hearts unyielding, spirits aligned. Through rubble and ruin, your children play, Their laughter defies the darkest day. They build castles from broken stone, In a land they’ve called their own. Each grain of sand, each blade of grass, A testament to struggles that surpass. Borders drawn by hands of greed, Chains of power, walls of need. But no wall can cage a people's fight, No force can dim their sacred light. The world may turn a blind, cold eye, But truth persists; it will not die. For justice doesn’t fade with time, It beats within, it’s sublime. Oh Palestine, your story aches, A land of giving, yet what it takes! Still, your people rise with might, Their resilience a beacon of righteous fight. The cries of mothers pierce the air, Lamenting lives lost to despair. The streets remember every name, Every martyr, every flame. And though the skies may darken with smoke, And voices falter, hearts won’t choke. For freedom’s call is loud and clear, A melody only the just can hear. Let nations stand, let truth prevail, Let justice rise where it did fail. For Palestine’s spirit cannot be sold, Its worth exceeds mountains of gold. One day the olive branch will bloom, Replacing shadows of war and gloom. The rivers will flow with peace anew, Under skies of liberated blue. So let us not forget their song, A people whose rights have been denied too long. For Palestine deserves to breathe, To live in peace, without reprieve.
By Aysha Akhter about a year ago in Poets
