300roses

My echoes are shaped like the rose�� blooming on originality.

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  • 300roses 31w

    Forsaken Art

    Canvas covered in dust,
    Broken easel,
    Ink-dried colour palettes &
    Worn out paintbrushes,
    chucked carelessly into an old box,
    & stashed in the dark storeroom.
    They used to be
    her prized possessions,
    her source of pride.
    She had painted some of her
    best works with these
    treasured tools,
    They defined who she was,
    but now,
    they had turned into old trash,
    waiting to be thrown out.
    Circumstances had
    compelled her to choose
    realism over passion.
    Sometimes,
    she wistfully wondered what
    could have been,
    if she had persisted in her art.
    Her memory of her former self
    had now turned vague.
    She could hardly picture herself
    with a paintbrush in hand,

    She knew in her heart
    that she would never pick up
    the paintbrush again.

    ©300roses

  • 300roses 31w

    #wov7 "Nature"
    Concrete poem

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    Dew
    drops are
    like blessings
    from the skies. Each
    drop precious as a pearl,
    Each drop nourishes life.
    Cherish the droplets resting
    on the blades of grass, leaves
    & flower petals, for they are
    transient. By & by dewdrops
    would fade into air. Delight
    in their glistening
    beauty while they
    linger, before they
    bid you
    goodbye.

    ©300roses

  • 300roses 31w

    #wov6 "What can poetry do?"
    Nonet: 9/8/7/6/5/4/3/2/1
    + 2 couplets aa/bb

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    Artist️

    Poetry gives me a pair of wings
    to fly high on the sky canvas,
    where I paint pictures with words.
    My pen is the paintbrush
    and I'm the artist.
    Words come to life,
    vivid in
    the mind's
    eye.

    I pour my soul into poetry with my rhymes,
    as it moves from realm to realm through my crafted lines.

    Poetry rouses the artist in me,
    unfolding a new world that I now see.

    ©300roses

  • 300roses 31w

    #wov5 "Musings"
    Sijo: 3 lines, each 14 - 16 syllables
    for a total syllable count of 44 - 46.

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    Musings

    Persistence is like waves rushing
    to shore, yet failing to stay.

    They reach the shore only to be
    pulled back into sea each time.

    But they never stop trying,
    will persistence ever pay off?

    ©300roses

  • 300roses 31w

    #wov4 "A hint of rain & petrichor."
    4 Haikus: 5/7/5
    + a couplet: 7/7

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    Storm ⛈️

    Gloomy cloak descends
    bolts of fury splitting sky
    a heavy downpour.

    Splatters of rain fall
    like needles hitting my skin
    I run for cover.

    Light starts seeping through
    raindrops evaporating
    I sigh in relief.

    As I close my eyes
    earthy scent fills my senses
    it's the after rain.

    Fear not of the storms that come,
    they shall all pass, just keep calm.

    ©300roses

  • 300roses 31w

    #wov3 "The marks that human leave are too often scars." Shardorma: 3/5/3/3/7/5

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    Lingering
    blemishes unseen,
    etched with pain
    in my heart.

    Tears are my only solace,
    as the scars linger.

    ©300roses

  • 300roses 31w

    #wov2 #autobiography
    Use the words: 'rose' & 'lost'
    Tanka: 5/7/5/7/7
    + Quinzaine

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    A wild red rose blooms
    in the midst of the desert,
    resplendent beauty
    lost to eyes of the seeing,
    her existence overlooked.

    She is tough, a survivor.
    Is her name fighter?
    Or just rose?

    ©300roses

  • 300roses 32w

    #wov1 "Summer"
    Cinquain: 2/4/6/8/2

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    Beaming
    Waves of bright light
    Golden rays kissing shores
    Bursts of energy & laughter
    Summer

    ©300roses

  • 300roses 32w

    Her Cries

    Her cries
    come only in the dark of night,
    so no one could see her misery.
    Each tear embodies her frustration,
    Each sob echoes her stress.
    She grows wearier by the day,
    juggling endless demands at work,
    struggling to stay afloat on the
    sea of deadlines.
    Each day she's like a lone soldier
    fighting her own battles,
    bruised & sore by sundown,
    battle scars etched on her heart.
    Somehow,
    she finds the strength to go on,
    in hope someday,
    she would gain her footing in the
    corporate jungle.
    Till then.
    Her cries
    continue night after night.

    ©300roses

  • 300roses 32w

    Silence speaks softly,
    Sorrow sings soulfully,
    Solitude screams silently,
    Solace soothes steadily.

    ©300roses