Christmas Spoken Poetry Tagalog

“You think coming here and apologizing solves it? Do you think it’s going to ease my pain? The pain you inflicted on me?” I yelled at him, my chest burning with all the pent up anger, waiting to be unleashed. Ashton reached out to touch me, but I slapped his hand away. Hurt flashed in his eyes, but I couldn’t care less. “I’m sorry, Helen. I promise to do better. Please, give me a second chance.” I scoffed. What a joke! “We are divorced, Ashton.” Ashton shook his head as if willing himself not to believe what I was saying. “I never sent you divorce papers, Hel. And…” he trailed off while I stared at him with creased brows. “We aren’t divorced. I never signed my part.” ***** For three years, Helen tried to be the perfect wife despite being labeled as incompetent, barren and worthless. She put up with her husband’s ignorance and mother-in-law’s insults for the sake of maintaining peace and keeping her marriage. But what she didn’t expect was a video of her husband in bed with his secretary on Christmas Eve when she planned to break the news of her pregnancy to him. And worse — His secretary threw a divorce paper which her husband had drafted at her face and asked her to beat it. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she left and returned six years later with dashing triplets. But what she didn’t expect was her husband wanting her back. As if that wasn’t enough, she was about to find out that there was more to what happened six years ago, and everything she thought she knew…were all lies. Will the holiday spirit be enough to bring them together again?

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

It was a full moon, and my mate, Alpha Ethan, bailed on our son's coming-of-age ceremony rehearsal. All because his Omega mistress, Scarlett, was in heat. Then, during the actual ceremony, our son Caleb was ambushed by a rival pack. By the time I heard the news, Caleb had been shot. He was dead, lying in a pool of his own blood. I knelt beside him, completely breaking down, when Ethan's voice, faking an apology, came through the mind link: "Sorry, Scarlett needs me. I'm sure Caleb can handle things. Just make sure Caleb gets some rest early, don't let him run around and mess up tomorrow's celebration." I looked at my son's broken body, my voice trembling, "He won't be running anywhere anymore." "Good," Ethan said, sounding pleased. "Scarlett's bloodline is purer. She's better suited to give the Stone Pack strong heirs. You should understand." I cut the link. After I committed my son's body to the flames, I found the secret ritual to break a mate bond and contacted a wolf I hadn't spoken to in a long, long time: "The protection wards on Stone Pack territory are down. You can make your move."

As Christmas approached, my fiancé Marcus Shadowhowl, the next-in-line Alpha of the Shadowhowl pack, rejected my invitation for a date and instead planned to take his assistant Sienna Nightsky to the beach on a vacation. Known as the perfect Luna-to-be, I didn’t cry or beg. I even thoughtfully helped him plan the trip. He kissed me gently and said, “Lorelei, you’re the most understanding werewolf in the world.” I smiled as I saw them off—then turned around and went to have an abortion. Why? Because in my past life, I had begged him to stay with me using the pup in me. But in the end, Sienna was brutally murdered at the beach. Outwardly, Marcus still treated me tenderly, but in his heart, he blamed me for her death. When I was about to give birth, he tricked me into going to the beach and issued a ruthless order to his subordinates. “Are we really going to dissolve the Luna’s child with silver? That’s too cruel!” “Yes. She killed Sienna. This is the punishment she deserves!” It was only then, in utter agony, that I realized Marcus had always held a grudge against me. Now that I’ve returned to the time before everything happened, I didn’t stop him from going on vacation with his assistant. Everyone laughs at my foolishness. But what they don’t know is that Marcus will eventually regret it and beg me to come back to him.

Scott! Scott! Scott! Scott! Scott! Scott! Scott! He is the school hottie, He is handsome, He is cute, He is hot! Everyone loves him, Everyone fear him, He is rich, He is every girl’s crush, but; He is so arrogant. And I, Lillian Mandela despise him so much, he is too arrogant, he looks down on people. I had developed hatred for him ever since he looked down on me and spoken to me arrogantly. I will make sure he regrets what he did to me. I will make sure I tame him. In summary, this story is all about the lifestyle of high school students. This story talks about a high school girl who on her first day at school met a rich and arrogant guy. She developed hatred for him since then but as time goes on, they started developing feelings for each other. How is she going to make him regret? How do they manage to get along? What made them develop feelings for each other? What was the reason behind Scott arrogant behavior? Who fell in love first? Lets go together in this novel and find out about all these numerous questions

I was six months pregnant when my husband's childhood sweetheart showed up on Christmas Eve, pregnant too, demanding her place in his life. Smiling, I welcomed her in. "Come on in. Make yourself at home." In my previous life, I had forced my husband to kick Shirley out. She collapsed from low blood sugar and froze to death that very Christmas Eve. Matthew did not hold it against me. On the contrary, he softened, stayed by my side and took care of me while I waited to give birth. However, when the baby came, despite being an obstetrician himself, Matthew sent our healthy newborn son straight to the morgue. I begged him desperately, but his face was twisted with hatred. "If you hadn't been so petty and dramatic, Shirley wouldn't have died along with her baby!" "You're heartbroken over your son? Then go freeze to death too. Pay for Shirley’s life with your own life." Just like that, I opened my eyes again, back to the moment Shirley arrived on Christmas Eve.

Sarita has always been a good daughter. The straight A's student and quite possibly going to be the class valedictorian on her graduation day. Like every other girl, she began to notice boys when she was fifteen and one boy in particular caught her fancy; Rajveer Chaturvedi. He is the co-captain of the school's basketball team The Panthers but he has never noticed her because he has his eyes on Divya Malhotra, head cheerleader who also happens to be his girlfriend. But Divya has her eyes on Vikrant Suryavanshi, the captain of the basketball team and Raj's best friend. Sarita loses all hope of ever getting Raj's attention but by a twist of fate, she becomes friends with Vikrant whom she'd heard of and seen a couple of times in school but had never spoken to due to the animosity between him and her best friend Kalyani who happens to be his cousin. Feelings grow between the unlikely pair and a long term friendship is broken when Divya's lies are revealed to Raj and Vikrant is painted the bad guy by his friend who swore to get his revenge. Vikrant's and Sarita's relationship is put to the test when she becomes pregnant due to a situation that was beyond their control and she is forced to choose between her family and the father of her baby when a young man shows up, claiming to be her betrothed.

I’d been dead a month before my family even noticed. It wasn’t concern that brought them to that realization. It was my silence after the so-called “dinner” with Adam Rossi, the infamous mafia boss. My father scoffed like always,“She probably shacked up with that bastard. Too busy spreading her legs to pick up the damn phone.” My sister texted me a photo of them smiling under the Christmas tree, ornaments twinkling like nothing was wrong. Bitch, she wrote. You better talk Mr. Rossi into working with Dad, or you might as well be dead already. And my mother—once the softer one—was now colder than the frost on their windows. “I told you, we should’ve sent Gia to charm Mr. Rossi. Serena always screws things up.” They didn’t think I would die. Not until they found my body—broken, rotten, and forgotten—in Adam Rossi’s basement.

The novel is mainly about the forgotten British poet/writer named C. J Richards who lived in Burma/Myanmar in colonial times and he believed himself as a Burmophile. He served as I.C.S (Indian Civil Servant) and when he retired from I.C.S service, he was a D.C (District Commissioner) and he left for England a year before Burma gained its independence in 1948. He came to Burma in 1920 to work in civil service after passing the hardest I.C.S examination. He wrote several books on Burma and contributed many monthly articles to Guardian Magazine published in Burma from 1953 to 1974 or 1975. Though he wrote several books which had much literary merit to both communities, Britain and Burma (Myanmar), people failed to recognize him. The story has two parts: one part is set in the contemporary Yangon (then called Rangoon) in 2016 context and a young literary enthusiast named “Lin” found out unexpectedly the forgotten writer’s poetry book and there is surely a good deal of time gap that led him into a quest to know more about the author’s life. The setting is quite different comparing to colonial Burma and independence Myanmar (Burma), early twentieth century and 2016 which is a transitional period in Myanmar. The writer’s life is fictionalized in the novel and most of the facts are taken from his personal stories and other reference books. It is a kind of historical novel with a twist and it has comparatively constructed the two different periods in Myanmar history to convince readers, locally and abroad more about history, authorship, humanity, colonialism, and transitional development in Myanmar today.

On Christmas Eve, my father got the man I had secretly loved for ten years drunk and sent him to my bed. When I woke up the next morning, Roy pulled away from my attempt at a good-morning kiss. His voice was cold and distant as he agreed to marry me. After the wedding, Roy wasted no time submitting a transfer request. He took an overseas post and left. He did not return for five years. I gave birth to our daughter, Eve, alone and waited for him to come back home. When I heard that Roy had finally applied to return to a domestic position, I was overjoyed. I spent days preparing, imagining our first reunion as husband and wife. But even when the clock struck midnight, he still hadn't come home. Our daughter, ever so thoughtful, placed her most treasured possession—a photograph of Roy—into my hands. "Don't cry, Mommy," she said softly. "Look, Daddy's right here." I tried to convince myself that his absence was due to a delayed flight. But later that night, while watching the news, I saw him. He was on a crowded city street, holding a young girl in his arms. Beside him stood a woman, her smile soft and warm. Facing the camera, Roy said, "Being with them is my greatest wish." At that moment, something inside me broke. I wrote up the divorce papers, packed our things, and planned to take Eve to change her identity. I didn't want him anymore. The day before we left, a man I had never met came to see me. He was Roy's father. "You could call me Dad," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But I'd rather you call me Ryan." I told him everything about the past five years—how I had waited, how I had hoped. When I finished, he laughed softly, an unusual warmth in his voice. "If it was just business," he said, "perhaps your father should have tied a bow around me and sent me to your bed instead. But I hold my liquor well—if I ever end up wrapped in a bow, you can be sure it's by choice."