I comb your shadow hanging on the dream wall
swinging on the dim ceiling
sometimes you grin up there
sometimes you laugh so sweetly in the silence
my fingers are always thirsty, touching your dark jaw
your waving mane
so fragrant in the night air
I will pull a piece of the blanket
letting your shadow crawl to my side
and fall asleep together until dawn erases your shadow
Caffeine vapor billows
blowing with the raindrops
the ceiling says
my body wanders
to a part of nowhere
glowing like a warm air
as if it were true
The reflection of the latte under the yellow light
the foam forms a crescent
like the curve of your smiling eyes
Petrichor tonight is so foreign
because only the gentle wind
between your body is familiar to me
I begin to enjoy the thunder
thundering beats
rhythmically
with the same beats
like an album cliché at my fingertips
jumping from time to time
Raindrops intertwined with nostalgia
melancholic rhythm
irony and romance
instantly combined
now flowing away
The heat creeps into the empty fabric
only getting colder
inside the tightly closed gray jacket
no warmth of jokes and laughter
nor embraces that are increasingly glowing
please, close your eyes for a moment
let me kiss between your reddened eyelids
bitterness of isolation
And if it's tomorrow
take the time for a final greeting
when I'm still stuck at the end of the road
so that the pressure on our shoulders will lighten
If it's still 20 counts
let's turn away before the bitterness ends and silences
before regret and suffocation grip us even more
before forgiveness and love are expressed again
I would follow you anywhere,
Across the fields where oak trees stand,
Their moss hangs heavy in the air,
Like secret banners, soft and pure.
Two rivers clear, they shine apart,
And yet they meet beyond the hill,
As if they knew the longing heart
That cannot choose, yet loves them still.
You read your books, I watch your eyes,
Each word is more than words to me,
It lifts me upward to the skies,
It opens doors I long to see.
Would you wait for me by the shore,
Where grasses bend in evening rain?
Would you be kind forevermore,
And take my joy, and be my cure?
I do not ask for golden years,
I only ask to walk beside—
Through laughter bright, through hidden tears,
Where all my secret dreams abide.
For I would follow, unafraid,
Wherever your bright footsteps lead;
The path through sun, the path through shade—
Is all the home I need to know.
Love didn’t follow you from junior high,
It lingered in corners like and made you sigh,
Your eyes sought faces, but none remained,
Only silence where your laughter reigned.
The halls are long, the lockers gray,
You walk alone through the first day,
Your broken mirrors—your beating heart,
Like ocean waves that drift apart.
Outside the windows, the branches lean,
Bushes and trees filled with leaves of green,
They whisper of summers already gone,
Of childhood’s song and its softer dawn.
Flowers bloom in the tender light,
Opening slowly to morning skies,
Dear blossoms rising, their petals near,
Touching the heavens, unclouded, clear.
But you—still waiting for love to start,
Carrying quietly heis fragile heart,
Dreams that shimmer but fall away,
Like glass at dusk, like mist at day.
Yet somewhere hidden, a promise grows,
In roots unseen where your gardener knows,
That even the loneliest soul will find
A gentler hand, a heart aligned.
So you walk beneath the sap filled trees,
Your breath a prayer, your steps a plea,
And the morning answers with fragrant air,
You are you and yes, quite rare.
Roaming in the corridor,
The fairy chuckled,
Mesmerized by the beauty of her own dress,
She grew self-assured in her little fairy school.
The multi-colored tutu,
inlaid with wild flowers;
Rivaled her silver sandals,
Which gleamed like her sparkling wings behind.
Then came the final day,
Bidding farewell to her tiny realm,
She moved ahead.
With sadness and excitement intertwined,
She decided to work through,
Until she became the best.
The moment she stepped into the real world,
She realized,
The tutu she wore was nowhere near the fairy gowns.
The praise and love she once received had faded into lies.
Maybe the tutu she wore was the best tutu, but not the best gown.
Carrying the weight of sudden change,
She still chose to enhance her tutu’s grace.
She rushed to the fashion store and cheerfully exclaimed:
"Get me the Cancan underskirt, fabric and shimmery pearls packed!"
The seller shot her an irksome look,
and Demanded fifty golden bricks.
The helpless fairy turned hopeless,
For she could have earned those bricks—
Only if she had a fluffy gown dress.
DOUBT NOT
Like Jesus, doubt not;
You too, are a child of God:
Believe in yourself:-
Today in english we had a free write.
I wrote about you, I always do.
I hate writing about you, but it's all I do.
My teacher says my work is amazing.
I wonder what she would think if she met you.
If you were amazing then.
After it all.
OF LIFE’S JOURNEY
At birth, life’s journey is planned;
While there will be many tolls,
God’s GPS will guide you:-
I'm missing you all over again
And it's not because you gave me hope
It's not because I love you more now
I miss you every day, especially at night
And it's because I gave myself hope
Because I saw you, now I see you everywhere
they say boys don't cry,
so he bleeds instead.
silent screams hidden
under hoodie threads.
he skips meals
like skipping pages
in a book that no one wants to read-
his ribs start spelling out
"notice me"
but no one speaks that language.
"you're a boy, tough it out,"
they said
when his voice shook like glass$and his hands begged for
anything
but silence.
so he carved the words
he couldn't say
into skin that never asked
to be a canvas.
they see the hoodie,
not the harm
they see the smile,
not the storm.
he hears
"girls have it rough,
you wouldn't understand,"
and swallow another truth
like it's poison wrapped in
a plastic fork
and a lie that boys are born invincible.
he's drowning
in a sea of
"man up"
"get over it"
"stop being dramatic"
but his lungs
never learned how to breathe
in a world where being okey
is the only option for boys.
they don't see him.
not really.
not when he whispers
"i'm not okey"
and they laugh
thinking it's a joke.
but this isn't a punchline
this is a lifeline.
unraveling.
and if you look close enough,
you'll see
a boy
not broken-
but breaking.
As I sit by myself in a room full of
Strangers,
I listen to the cacophony , The Chaos of
Voices, laughter and conversations ;
It feels very familiar,
and I can't help but wonder how soon it
Will end .
And again after a few months or
A year later,
I'll be somewhere else
between strangers,
Who might or not be kinder.
Life's no banked river...
Life's roving waves frothing shores...
Life's oceanic...
IN THE HEAT OF DAY
A peaceful warm day.
Scents of flowers fill the air;
So do summer flies!
My high school reunion:
old classmates,
old friends,
old adversaries,
old strangers
meet after decades
trying to discern
who's who,
who's lived,
who's passed,
who's disappeared...
lost youth commemorated...
survival celebrated.
Specific Types of High School Poems
Definition | What is High School in Poetry?