#old

1967 posts
  • anuradhasharma 3w

    उम्र साथ बिताना, नसीब हैं।
    और जज़्बात बांटना, खरा सोना।


    ©anuradhasharma

  • _shattered_soul 3w

    Memories

    Years have passed, things are changed ,

    And you don't remember your older self.

    Some liked you, some hated,

    It's expected the same.

    But you know how the situation is,

    You are not what you are expected to be.

    You regret your mistakes,

    Sigh for your stupidity.

    In a corner of your room,

    You sit depressed missing your older fun.

    But things are supposed to be changed ,

    That's called life and how it worked.

    You feel the urge to meet your friends,

    Talk to them about the stuff you missed.

    But you know somewhere in your heart,

    Memories are good not to be touched.

    They are like waves standing still,

    Enjoying the calmness and cold inside.

    When you mingle, they lose their calm,

    And are no longer called “Old Memories ”.

    So you fear to go back in the past,

    And are frightened to make it sour.

    Sometimes it's better to live on,

    Let the memories be sweet as always,

    Let it sleep and not disturbed....


    #Memories #Old #Past #Silence #ShatteredSoul #Mirakee

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    ©_shattered_soul

  • windingpaths 4w

    The poem 'Concentric Circles' is about the last lockdown we had when labourers in India were helpless to reach their homes when a mother with her two children died at the railway station. When people lost their jobs. I wrote this poem last year with all honesty I had for my emotions towards 2020 and here it goes :

    Reality burns under the guise of deceit,
    A lie dwells in all the corners of the street.
    None to look, find and speak the truth,
    Like a puppet, In a harmonic motion
    follows the rhythm of a baseless belief.
    In the abyss of despair, from blue to black,
    Pain becomes the creator of scratches and scars.
    Caliginosity of the night, the only witness,
    stands and speaks about their buried wrath.

    Where are they now that often come like fireflies,
    And speaks about the stars and the moon?
    Where are their fairy tales and folktales
    which they did use to tell those innocent groups?
    Don't they see that millions of people
    are now living on a sand slope?
    Their bodies now more like baked bricks,
    Hopes like icicles hung from the roof of a heart,
    melts and drips in the ocean filled with broken parts.

    Their feet like an inching tape measure
    the distance between all the social plates.
    What to serve, what not to and what has served,
    Now clearly they can see all the splitting curves.
    Anonymous they are but in large numbers,
    Is this a mathematical question,
    where a zero twists and becomes infinity
    In the form of a social disorder?
    Yes, it is a farrago of half-truths people are gulping,
    It's a fight between zero and those numbers.

    In these expanding concentric circles,
    with thousands of beliefs and myths they live.
    They pray for the end and curse the beginning
    As if a wrong shot hit the wrong target.
    Their mind crosses all the long streets
    and wear just one thought, to reach home.
    Their heart runs like engines on those platforms
    Such is the starless sky where their
    nightmares are their living.
    ©Muskan

    #old @writersnetwork

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    Concentric Circles

  • windingpaths 4w

    A stranger

    I look for doors and windows
    to shut and open -
    My thoughts are dying out;
    Kindly show me the way
    To the land where born and unborn
    shadow of yours
    lay beside the bales of hay.
    Sometimes I wonder,
    Of your presence and absence
    like a sky gazer exploring the bright-dim stars and their numbers.
    'Such efforts are pipe dreams,
    You are impossible to reach out', they say.
    You come and go as you please
    Like a moonbow which lives for night and light,
    Such a known stranger you are,
    Unintelligible but sweet.
    I look for the riddle filled poems
    to read and write -
    My thoughts may live;
    From word to word
    I keep connecting to your rhythm,
    but nothing stays.
    Two terminal sometimes they seem
    like asking for a connection,
    But line by line it becomes an n-sided polygon.
    Then, I look for calculation
    to reach the end and breathe --
    Again neither you nor your word stays
    And my thoughts go for a peaceful sleep.
    ©Muskan

    #free #old

    Shoot! I didn't use the words free and float in it, I just noticed ��

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    A stranger

  • windingpaths 4w

    Truth

    Truth wears a screen,
    hunts for flashes,
    like an impatient child
    seeking attention over his scratches.
    Truth abides in silence,
    for it knows what storm it
    has to hold, like flickering projector
    it displays nothing, yet has something to show.
    From person to person,
    From word to word,
    Its come up is uncertain, as an intense beam
    making fine holes to prove its virtual existence.
    Truth is like shards of glass
    scattered in its irregular shapes,
    playing hide and seek in the corners
    of each other's trust and graves.
    Shapes? Does it have a colour too?
    No, it's a transparent agony amid fire and snow.
    Time will come, come with a lot more to tell
    how and why it all blends well.
    Do not question the question
    as it's a complicated structure of science and nature.
    Question the answer, there will be one,
    unwinding the threads of conjecture.
    ©Muskan

    #old #hyperbole

    @writersnetwork thank you for the EC ��

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    Truth

  • ananias 4w

    #old

    3/18/15

    Last old one for the night, I just figured they should get posted eventually, sorry for the spam :)

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    Fears of inadequacy
    In a life that I know is more than just me
    To be second best in all things or closer yet to last
    In a relationship based off nothing
    Did we have the fuel to go so fast
    Swallowing those words
    Drowning in my sorrow
    I can't afford to be alone
    Trapped in limbo and friends made with Woe

    ©ananias

  • ananias 4w

    Asleep in the morgue
    Nothing compares
    Envy of the dead
    Jealousy born from fear

    ©ananias

  • ananias 4w

    #old

    12/27/14

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    A new level of self loathing
    With blood showing
    I'm not perfect
    I couldn't do this without knowing
    That undeniable fact
    I'll never be more than what I am
    It's just not enough
    I need something else
    Something not me

    ©ananias

  • ananias 4w

    #old

    12/27/14

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    I read our old conversations
    To fortify my resolve
    Should I be crying or cold
    Is this hardly worth it all
    There's so much to be gained
    Like more guilt and regret
    I tried living with you
    Now I'm lonely with death

    ©ananias

  • ananias 4w

    #old

    1/4/15

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    They say I'm broken and confused
    You think I didn't know
    You think that's news
    You say I'm down
    But my soul is black not blue
    And I hope you know
    That this is all for of you

    ©ananias

  • ananias 4w

    Give my hand to the ant pile
    Just to feel the purge
    Of every anxious feeling and every deadly urge
    Make this life worth while
    But can't lift this curse
    The day stuck on replay
    Yet it still gets worse

    ©ananias

  • ananias 4w

    #old

    2/20/15


    More edgy teenage poems incoming

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    I find it hard to try
    With love
    It's like my drug
    But the well ran dry
    I'm stuck with withdrawals
    And no end in site
    For this lackluster thing
    That I call my life
    Just
    Let it die

    I'm a fraud
    Just a fake
    I drown in every promise I make
    My life's a facade
    Just a mask
    To hide that fact I'll never last
    Every feature is flawed
    Don't act so surprised
    It is the truth, the fact, that I've only wanted to die
    Just Let it die

    I don't believe
    But every single night that I pray
    To be struck down
    For a reason to stay
    I misconceive
    That I can make things right
    But it only last for the night
    And I'm back to what got me there
    Just let me die


    ©ananias

  • ananias 4w

    When did missing you
    Become a fact of the matter
    I think of you and I'm sadder
    Now without you I'm madder
    Crazy; like a hatter
    But with you I was sane
    A love fueled by loneliness
    Now I'm consumed by the flame
    And I see
    That life is hard and we all die
    But you I'd die to see you again
    And I might try

    ©ananias

  • ananias 4w

    #old

    I wrote this when I was 15 (over 8 years ago) after a long distance girlfriend killed herself

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    "I'm scared
    It hurts"
    What a message to leave me
    I loved you
    I loved you
    Why didn't you believe me
    Or maybe you did
    Maybe you knew it but to you I was just a kid
    But what the fuck does it matter
    You're gone now and I'm coming
    Following after
    Pitter patter
    Feels like I'm underwater
    Choking and gasping
    Squeezing my chest till my heart stops and I'm basking
    In the sun with you
    Cut grass clear skies
    I want to cuddle you
    Hear you laugh
    And watch you smile
    I'm so in love with you
    I know it is weird my heaven is a cliche scene
    But when you know you found an angel on Earth you'll never check to see
    Where the grass is greener
    But now all the grass is dead
    The sun stopped shining when my little light left

    ©ananias

  • raman_writes 6w

    मिज़ाज़

    पहले पहल की बात कुछ और थी सब कुछ नया था ।

    मिज़ाज़ तो उनका तब बदला जब हम पुराने हो गए ।।


    ©raman_writes

  • rr_the_writer 7w

    When the relationship is new
    People look for excuses to talk,
    And when that same relationship gets old,
    People look for excuses to be away
    ©rajdeep13

  • nocturnal_enigma 8w

    * 15.10.2021; 12.28 A.M (Malaysia)

    * For: My #crush #AHBA

    #Old #bold #cold #fold #gold #hold #sold #told

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    -old ~

    You were so bold...
    as you iniated the...
    conversation.

    Then, you told me...
    you were busy,
    with your work.

    Our acquaintanceship...
    didn't unfold into...
    a real relationship.

    I still hold on and...
    hope for a miracle...
    as I can't let you go.

    My heart wasn't sold.
    It was given to you. Hope...
    you're my soulmate.

    You're wise; An old soul...
    with a heart of gold.
    How I wish, we met.

    You've become...
    an old man...
    and so cold.

    © Nuruliffa Emirah
    @ nocturnal_enigma

  • arkido 8w

    This was one of the first cartoons i ever watched on tv..
    I've learned many little good things from this cartoon. ��
    From this cartoon i got to know that rake is a garden tool...and it was very interesting to know those little english words and things at that time ����
    ..
    Sweet old days ��,
    Have anyone else watched this cartoon in there childhood too like me ?
    #old #cartoons #oswald #memories

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    Oswald

  • my_sky_is_falling 8w

    तुम बिन

    कभी दुश्वारियां ही जिंदगी की कम नहीं होती
    यही होता है मेरे साथ जब भी तुम नही होती
    ©my_sky_is_falling

  • madinah_writes 8w

    Today,
    I read poems people wrote about their grandmother.
    Even though I didn't see mine or witness her love,
    I know what her touch felt like.
    What I heard of her was how much she loved and cared for me.
    My grandmother thought me how to sleep with my eyes open.
    Wide open to look inward and feel the weight of my heart.
    In her eyes stood magical galaxies.
    In her heart sat a revolution of beauty and talent.
    Sitting under the baobab tree that served as kitchen,
    Grandma would wake before the first cock's crow to burn dry woods.
    Everyone is still asleep.
    The day just begin to yawn in dusky Dawn.
    Grounding pepper on a flat stone to make our local dish.
    My grandma first taught me how to endure the peppery fish.
    Smoke filling the morning till it touches the sky,
    Grandma would lay me on her sweaty back which served as my first bed.
    I clocked one and she passed.
    Well, that was destiny. All left with me is imaginary memories and a wishful smile.
    For I never knew my grandmother but I felt her love.

    #grandmother #rememberance #memory #old #black #hair #blackamerican #african #miraquill #bittertruth #reality #beauty #makeup #childhood #past #writersbay #writeup #writerscommunity #shy #blackbeauty

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    Grandma's Love
    ©madinah_writes