Describe Myself Poem With Rhyming Words นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I was a failure, a disappointment, unworthy of the love and affection I so desperately craved. I clenched my fists in frustration, the anger boiling within me like a tempest raging in the depths of my being. "I wish I wasn't in this world at all," I muttered bitterly, my voice laced with bitterness and despair. But even as the words left my lips, a small voice whispered in the depths of my mind, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. "You are worth more than you know," it said, a faint echo of encouragement in the midst of my self-loathing.

“Why the fuck didn’t you give it to me?” Gasping for air, he instantly digs into his pocket, pulling out the envelope. I take it and chuck him away from me. He soothed his bruised throat as I opened the envelope and took out the paper and read: Poem:- My spirit is as free as a bird I’m like the wind of the world. Unhitched, I’m that kinda girl Hunt me but you will never find me. So you see, it will never be This is my life for eternity.

Remember I'm right here in your heart~ Forever~ The words belted from me in as everywhere heard me. They all had their attention on me. By the end of the poem, I was struggling to stay upright. The strength in my legs was failing me and I wanted to collapse onto the muddied ground. The cold was seeping through underneath my skin and making a permanent home for itself within me. I would probably let it.

I tried to glance outside through the small window, but I failed enormously in my attempt to get a glimpse, the rain was falling dangerously on the streets of New Delhi and I could feel the shine of the moon on my heart. there must be thousands of poets wondering tonight what they write about the glorious beauty of the sky, there must be hundreds of lovers trying to hide in the wisdom glance of the moonlight and I am here with nothing in my mind wandering about my life. I still remember yesterday, as it is right in front of my eyes, I still remember when there was no one for me, and I still regret, regret all the times. the loud voice increased again making me lose my mind, my throat was dry

The most astonishing thing was that every title tried to minister to me so much more that I was confused. There is a poem titled 'HOPE', there was 'VAGUE AS AIR', 'DEATH AND IT'S PEACE' and other incredible poems all written by Trevor. I read each poem and felt as if he was talking to me directly. His choice of words, sentence construction and presentation of life scenarios embedded in words is just beautiful. Now this guy was not just a devilishly handsome man with a great sense of humor but a writing god. Then I came across the piece I termed my best. I read it over and over again muttering each line. The poem is titled 'SPEAK TO YOURSELF' and it reads thus...

It's that same silent persona that refuses to tell him about my poems, that part that said i liked cooking when i can't boil an egg right. It's that same version of me that watches from the sidelines, the part that has said i-told-you-so so many times, it's now cliche. That quiet profile that is painfully aware of the fact that anyone that comes too close to me dies. We were sparks of light, dancing, twirling, brightly, in perfect symphonic twists of alchemy. We were something in between flames of fire and the ashes of a smoke. Something in between infatuation and obsession, in between Juliet's romeo and Luscious' cookie.

My other self is walking towards me, about to crown my head with thorns of pain and beauty. Beauty through the pain, My other self is staring at me through a broken mirror. Mirror of my broken self, mirror of the broken soul She is screaming, Screaming silently at me for leaving her to decay. Leaving her lost, to burn To end. The end is walking fast. Moving like the wind Moving till I can’t see.

He gave her his widest grin and pecked her lips this time around. "Hmm, lemme pour my own new poem for you. It's a lonely night Silently watching the heaven above that has no gap Quietly wishing it also has the small crack That is separating my heart from being one and whole The stars are getting acquainted to each other Helping the other twinkle And I wish they'd look down at me and flicker the dying Light in my soul and bring it back to life Still watching as the old dry palm branch shaped moon Slowly drifts down to the appointed term

At least no one could see me like this-broken, humiliated, and so painfully vulnerable. The world seemed to echo my misery as dark clouds rolled in overhead. Moments later, the sky broke open, and heavy rain poured down, soaking me instantly. It was almost poetic, the way the heavens mirrored the storm inside me. The cold droplets mingled with my tears, washing them away but doing nothing to ease the ache in my chest.

My thoughts kept circling around Zinnia, and I kept pushing those thoughts away. Suddenly, a poem popped into my head; In my head, I am fighting fire with fire. The flames are getting bigger and brighter. I can hear it crashing. I can feel it burning. I am tossing, and I am turning. I am burning, and I am screaming. I am crying out for help. Why are they not putting the fire out? They are making it bigger. It is burning faster. I can feel it spreading through my body. Why are they making it worse?