Cinquain
Scars to your beauty
What magnitude of pain can hurt? What is the measuring capacity of the human heart to bear, to accumulate in its precipice before it finally seeks redemption, before it concludes to itself no more? How ironic and disbarring it is to moan about the loss of someone after their demise after they bury themselves on the deathbed or even more unbearing when they bury themselves in their essence. If they bury themselves in their breaths, they break their souls, they pierce their hearts and shed every ounce of their aching identity that constitutes their trace.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
Family Tree
It's Sunday, and what makes the tail end of this weekend special is that it's also Family Day in the United States. Family networks are rich and complex. Their members may pursue different interests and paths, yet they have ties that bind. That doesn't change, no matter how we try to cut them. They may grow in varied, new ways, but they have a rich and deep identity when united.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin2 years ago in Poets
