This is something silly that I came up with a couple of days ago. I wrote without thinking about what I wrote, or without editing.
Poetry is words that fall off my tongue
Not the words that should be sung
in joy and peace
Rather words that have no other place to go
Words that are used to hearing no.
Poetry is pain from my heart
Not the ones that are turned into art
with colours running everywhere
ending with love and care.
Poetry is blood on my hands
They will never understand
The way maps are drawn with those words
Poetry is sharp like a sword
Poetry is blunt like a knife
And hard like your life
And high like the sky
And free like the tears that you cry.
In other news - my last ever undergrad exam inshaallah is this Thursday! and Ramadan starts this Thursday (give or take a moon)! Masters starts in about 2 weeks!
Its raining now.
Poetry is words that fall off my tongue
Not the words that should be sung
in joy and peace
Rather words that have no other place to go
Words that are used to hearing no.
Poetry is pain from my heart
Not the ones that are turned into art
with colours running everywhere
ending with love and care.
Poetry is blood on my hands
They will never understand
The way maps are drawn with those words
Poetry is sharp like a sword
Poetry is blunt like a knife
And hard like your life
And high like the sky
And free like the tears that you cry.
In other news - my last ever undergrad exam inshaallah is this Thursday! and Ramadan starts this Thursday (give or take a moon)! Masters starts in about 2 weeks!
Its raining now.
