WordSmith

Poetry survives by the help of a rusted heart.

I broke my heart to love you, andgathered the fragments of my broken heart to fill the voids in you.I hid my tears to make you smile.I pretended to be painless while my soul withered away.Felt like standing under the scorching sun just to get a glimpse of the moon. You were the stars of…

I miss those good old dayswhen I looked into your curious eyesand came up with a poem for that pretty little face.My favorite pen has always been in love with you;it spilled poems whenever I dreamt of you. Everyone looks into a broken heart for an empty place,only to realize later that it has limited…

The heart is the only organ that has amassed a lot of bad karma because it never gets what it craves.

My love for you is like a bonfire; it keeps my cold heart warm.

You can keep me in your heart if there’s still a place for me.Every morning, wake me up, please!So I can see the face that carries pure grace. Winter will arrive any day.We can hold hands tight to keep you warm each day.If you still shiver, that’s okay—Sleep in my arms, and I won’t wake…

All these years, I have been held as a prisoner of time and fate,Broken yet undaunted.Surrendered to depression, which welcomed me with open hands,Rejoicing in solitude, living my life like a mime. Then came my mistress, a nightingale, with her silvery voice.She took control of my life;She became the heart of my poetry. You can…

I don’t mind writing poems for you every day.It is the only place where I can make you stay.I feel my mind burdened by your memories.You silently tiptoed into my heart when I was running out of time.Before I could face the last moments of my life,hold my hand so I can feel heaven on…

It was not easy to love her, but I loved the way it was.

You are a pain that comes in many colors,yet I still see you as a rainbow.