Sometimes I craving for people
Who does not write poetry,
After all, poems are a pain in progress and every word that detaches from an aching soul stitches catharsis to the mind,
The massacre that’s fought within Finally gets to breathe on paper,
The ink has settled for much less now. Soaked before reaction memories cluttering in disposition.
Every brokenness that was created was convinced to be beautiful.
Like the flaw in infallibility but the concealment is collapsing now it has started showing ruthless crevices of ripped emotions unknown, unheard, unspoken.
There’s room for light, I know I’ll let it in only if I know this timeIt won’t hurt like the beginning.
And even if it does I’ll still choose to be kind.
This All about beautiful thought of poetry was written by Fahima Nahid.
