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Best Pashto Poems

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See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Pashto Poem | |

Respect The Roots

I’m thankful for slaves who never could understand, “Why do I work for people and get less than the bare minimum wage?”
Why do I go through the pain and suffering if there’s no gain for my family or me? My greats never were a boss and rarely knew who their family was so why live this life if it wasn’t free to be?
My roots nurtured the seeds who helped create opportunities; if we as the people could see how they lived maybe we would be stronger minded people rather than living like we have no sense
We are a culture that is talented in so many ways but we want to be the target of a negative headline news story. 
We already seen shackles on our feet, slavery, segregation, and racism against our peace, so why do we still act as if we can’t change the way people perceive us to be
We are not going to blame it on our past because they gave us freedom to see so why can’t we exploit this and live the true meaning of the land of the free
Disregard the negative news and set yourself apart change the way you act so others can see a fresh start
If we started from the bottom now where here isn’t that living proof we can do anything besides spend money on material things but invest in the future or non-profits to help others to build something and have a heart
We can’t just stay a struggle we have to be humble take over the government and make change not think we high class and go to jail for spending money or getting caught up for the wrong things
 Set a strong example for these homeless, gangs, prostitutes, and dealers because they are suffering and have only 2 choices that put us on the news headline story in jail or death coming soon
 As we lift up those who make a change on the streets or on Capitol Hill we are happy these people are creating an Underground Railroad to victory without suffering and hopefully this stand is coming to all my people to
 We got to take charge in numbers instead of sit back all for nothing
 If you better yourself from how others use to see you maybe you can see the roots that can help make the change for you as others grow in this thing called a root lifting cycle. Respect the roots.

Details | Pashto Poem | |

My ink is my blood

Lick these writings of mine  
Let my ink stain your taste buds 
Can you stand the taste of my pain?

Wounded by the sharpness of thy mind       i bleed continually- my ink is 
my blood
The words of my qull flow from my vein

I'm standing below the poverty line
Will manna fall from above?
There's no nourishment in the rain    

The freedom I search for is yet to find 
I want to be free like a dove
Free my brain from the mental chain    

Racism should be once up on a time
Pour me hate and i dilute it with love 
Hate me with passion- what's your gain?

Details | Pashto Poem | |

Undying Love


Undying Love



For you I would drain the ocean blue
 fight it's fearsome monsters too
Sail a ship smashing stormy seas
 buy the bank giving you the keys

For you I would slap a tiger in it's cage
 dance bare naked upon a public stage
Knock mighty mountains down to gravel
 across barren deserts swiftly travel

For you I would totally change my life
 cut my own throat with razor knife
Dive headfirst into a bottomless dark pit
 do anything , anything  but commit!

For you sweet baby, anything but commit!

Robert L. 05-28-2014

Travelled that road for 8 years as a young man between marriages...
Greatly fearing to commit because it meant opening my heart to 
a possible future unbearable pain again. It took a miracle for me 
to overcome and right on time 21 years later I got blind-sided again.
Live and learn...







Details | Pashto Poem | |

Coming Clean

Coming Clean

Suppose  I was your inner self
the one so determined  to fall,
you wake each day  with a frown on your face
blaming it on all others after all.
 
But suppose this person fell from oneself
became a shadow to leave behind,
Could you or would you find happiness
leaving old memories on the sidelines.
 
Honestly with life so short  why take part
in hiding in misery  day after  day ,
why  fold  yourself  into a crumbled  mass
yet  crying  within of  needs  deteriorating  away.
 
Tell me how hard do you work 
to make others see your pain ,
for maybe they would understand why
if you was trying to be whole once again .
 
Arms  reach out and you slap them away,
makes  you once  again embracing your pain .
to refuse  the  help sent  your way,
and you refuse  again and again.
 
What is  so bad you cant come clean
to  find life is what we make it to be,
What is so woven into your mind
where even your shadow  has become unkind.

related link:
http://thearyan.com/category/poem/

Details | Pashto Poem | |

A Welsh New Year

A Welsh New Year

The night's dark shadow 
creeps softly over the sky. 
Dark, soft fingers pull slowly at the light, 
fully engulfing it into it's dark mass. 
The wind whips off the sea.
Snatching and releasing, 
pushing and pulling.
Rough and unforgiving.
Wild as our hearts, 
beating quickly in the night.
The wooden walls groan in around us.
A ship, 
forever docked, 
deeply into the cliff.

A yearning spirit hides in anticipation 
behind each eye, 
quivering in excitement and childish glee.
When finally, 
one scuttling figure jumps from the couch 
and out the door.
We chase him, 
fleeting feet and unruly rain jackets, 
across the courtyard and towards the wild sea. 
The wind's intensity grows with the seconds.
We stop, 
finally,
when we reach the light.
It flashes, 
giant and glowing.
The sea roars far below us 
and the wind thrashes and screams in our ears.
I feel as if it could lift me off my feet 
and carry it as far as it pleased.
Clinging tightly to whoever is closest, 
we stand in silent awe. 
But it only last one flickering moment,
before we're dashing back 
to the warm safety of the indoors. 

But when the morning comes,
and all putter around the kitchen, 
little fragments of the night still remain. 
A crumpled flag of the living room floor. 
Muddy shoes scattered 
on the cold entranceway.
The quick sprawled footprints in the sand. 
And a lone wine-glass of water, 
on a disheveled bedside table. 
Gentle smiles pass through the house,
and the steady sea beats rhythmically on.
 
related link:
http://thearyan.com/category/poem/