Limerick

The Mystery of Time
Time flies like a bird in the sky, In the blink of an eye, it goes by, But savor each day, In your own special way, And the moments will never just die.
By Dabasish Palabout a year ago in Poets
The Path Unseen
Life’s journey is winding and steep, With secrets it’s eager to keep, But with each little stride, You’ll find where to glide,
By Dabasish Palabout a year ago in Poets
The Rollercoaster of Life
Life’s a ride with its ups and downs, Full of smiles and occasional frowns, Just hold on real tight, Through day and through night,
By Dabasish Palabout a year ago in Poets
8/21/24
The obliteration of alliteration Waiting for liberation Through visitation Living in stagnation The harsh realities of our society
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Where Does the Trash Go
Where does the trash go Down into the depths Or off to the shallows We will never know It leaves our home for the curb
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
The End
The end of one world Is the beginning of another Like a child Slipping from its mother Life is a journey Of yearning We used to live
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Celebrating the doom of independence
Celebrating the doom of independence Liberation in its precipice gallops in the abyss of glee, Callous whispers of unserved justice writhe the soul with pain that abhors the plea
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets
Regret
Regret was a weight that did grow, From seeds that were planted long ago. Choices once made, Now in shadows stayed, And haunted the mind with their woe.
By Dabasish Palabout a year ago in Poets
Heartbreak
There once was a heart split in pain, Where love left a lingering stain. Each beat felt the tear, Of a dream laid bare, As it danced in the cold, bitter rain.
By Dabasish Palabout a year ago in Poets
Loneliness
In a room where the silence would creep, Loneliness lulled the heart to weep. With shadows as friends, And no love to mend,
By Dabasish Palabout a year ago in Poets
Loss of a Loved One
There once was a heart torn in two, By a loss that the soul deeply knew. Though the tears often fall, Fond memories still call,
By Dabasish Palabout a year ago in Poets
Scars to your beauty
What magnitude of pain can hurt? What is the measuring capacity of the human heart to bear, to accumulate in its precipice before it finally seeks redemption, before it concludes to itself no more? How ironic and disbarring it is to moan about the loss of someone after their demise after they bury themselves on the deathbed or even more unbearing when they bury themselves in their essence. If they bury themselves in their breaths, they break their souls, they pierce their hearts and shed every ounce of their aching identity that constitutes their trace.
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets