Leave your kindness to wither, lose its goal.... But still, you rise, and move forward with grace...
Poems forever
By Emily Dickinson
The wind tapped like a tired man,
And like a host, "Come in,"
I boldly answered; entered then
My residence within
A rapid, footless guest,
To offer whom a chair
Were as impossible as hand
A sofa to the air.
No bone had he to bind him,
His speech was like the push
Of numerous humming-birds at once
From a superior bush.
His countenance a billow,
His fingers, if he pass,
Let go a music, as of tunes
Blown tremulous in glass.
He visited, still flitting;
Then, like a timid man,
Again he tapped 't was flurriedly
And I became alone.
By Shamsa Kanwal
As days go by and life unfolds,
Reality reveals its truest gold.
Your kindness, once abundant and free,
Now deserves to be reserved, not for all to see.
Few people prove to be genuinely kind,
While others hide behind a mask of deceit.
A few, with malice rooted in their heart,
Spread slander and blame, a wicked art.
Their words, a whispered, venomous sting,
Aimed at the heart, where love once clung.
Their actions, reflections of their soul,
Leave your kindness to wither, lose its goal.
But still, you rise, and move forward with grace,
Leaving the haters in their toxic space.
Yet, they remain, stuck in their vicious ways,
Continuing to backbite, in endless, futile days.
No more will you lavish love, so true,
On those who abuse, and mistreat, anew.
Your heart, now wiser, beats with care,
Guarding the love, you once shared so fair.
For in life's journey, you've come to see,
That kindness, though precious, must be set free.
Surround yourself with those who uplift,
And keep your heart safe from the venomous drift
By Eman Khan
I am not the echoes of their words,
Nor the shadows of the world’s regard,
I am the sun that rises within,
A light that flickers, yet will never dim.
I’ve learned to hold my heart with care,
To soothe the ache, to breathe the air
Of self-compassion, soft and kind,
A whisper in the caverns of my mind.
No longer chasing the approval I once sought,
I've found a strength that can't be bought.
In every flaw, in every tear,
I see a beauty, raw and clear.
I am the silence in the storm,
The strength beneath the calm and warm.
I've come to know that I am enough,
In every moment, I stand tough.
With every scar, with every bruise,
I paint the story I choose to use.
I am both tender and fierce in flight,
A work of art, by my own light.
So I stand, I rise, I hold my ground,
In the love I give, I am unbound.
For self-love isn’t pride or boast,
It’s the quiet truth I love the most.
By AK
Beneath the blazing sun’s warm glow,
The players step, their spirits show.
A bat, a ball, the field so wide,
Cricket calls, and hearts collide.
The bowler’s stride, so sleek, so sure,
The ball in hand, the battle pure.
With every bounce, the tension grows,
A game of nerves, where courage flows.
The crowd erupts in joyous cheer,
As bat meets ball, the sound so clear.
A boundary struck, the scoreboard climbs,
The thrill of victory, the joy of times.
The ball spins fast, the batsman swings,
A moment held, the world it brings.
A wicket falls, the game’s not done,
Another chance, another run.
