Novel & Cerita Life Is But A Stopping Place Poem

[When you come into the world, something else will be born alongside you. You will start your own life, while it will embark on its journey. It moves slowly but never stops. No matter where you go or which path you choose, it will follow you every step of the way. You may run ahead while it strolls, or you may stop to rest. But it needs no such thing. [Some day, when life gets comfortable, or the most unexpected of times, you will notice a shadow beside you. But it will be too late by then, and your life will end there.]

With that we talked through the night . There are times that you would close your eyes, Those special memories of me will always bring back a smile, Calling my number repeatedly but with no response , If only you could have me back for just a little while you would say ,When I fade like the shadow of moon or like the whispers of the sea, The times of pain and the days of sorrow ,Miss me a little but not too long ,I want no cries, why cry for a soul gone to a better place, a home built with gold ,The time when living feels like dying ,Miss me but let me go , When I come to the end of the road and the sun has set for me , Miss me but let me go , For this journey is one we all must take , Bury

Living is a daily challenge. Life gives us no respite, no matter what moment we are going through, the world will not stop to wait for us to catch our breath. The train keeps moving and we cannot be left behind, even though in many moments we just want to contemplate the landscape and let the train go through the mountains.

Life is an unending journey—a journey where you should keep going despite the challenges you are facing. In this journey, there is no room for giving up. Yes, you may stop but it requires you not to give up. Sure, life is not a contest where some wins and some losses but it is a battle where in you should win every struggles.

a woman who loved hearing the praises of others! He racked his brain and found the poem he had learned in language class back then. “The white lotus grows out of the mud, yet it’s unsullied. It’s bathed by clear waves, yet it isn’t seductive. It’s hollow inside, and it’s straight outside. It neither sprawls nor branches. The farther away it is, the purer is its fragrance. Upright and elegant, it establishes itself cleanly. It can be viewed at a distance but can’t be toyed with!”

Nor do the heedless in the throng, One thought beyond the morrow give, They court the feast, the dance, the song, Nor think how short their time to live. The heart that bears deep sorrow’s trace, What earthly comfort can console, It drags a dull and lengthened pace, ‘Till friendly death its woes enroll. The sunken cheek, the humid eyes, E’en better than the tongue can tell; In whose sad breast deep sorrow lies, Where memory’s rankling traces dwell.The rising tear, the stifled sigh, A mind but ill at ease display, Like blackening clouds in a stormy sky, Where fiercely vivid play. Thus when souls’ energy is dead, When sorrow dims each earthly view, When every fairy, hope is fled, We bid the un

'Life is similar to a bus ride. The journey begins when we board the bus. We meet people along our way of which some are strangers, some friends and some strangers yet to be friends. There are stops at intervals and people board in. At times some of these people make their presence felt, leave an impact through their grace and beauty on us fellow passengers while on other occasions they remain indifferent. But then it is important for some people to make an exit, to get down and walk the paths they were destined to because if people always made an entrance and never left either for the better or worse, then we would feel suffocated and confused like those people in the bus, the purpose of th

she said with a light smile and opened the Poetry Anthology to the poem. ‘Coloured’ By De Wet Life starts with colour With a sort of spirit Only a child can give A parent is brightened By the mere presence the light projected But after time That colour fades Dimming Like a worn out jean A ghost Heavy and burdened Uncertain Seeking guidance Purpose Love But once found Once explored Colour returns to life And is reflected and spread

in response to the ongoing anti-extradition bill protests a day like this, or the train between us won’t stop - this life is too long, dear tourist - & you know this morning I have to pay the rent too – as you insist that demonstrations at Victoria Park crow an ashfall of a feathered controversy - scarred by heavy clouds – as poetry as a lesson in leaving seems like years – & everyday umbrella seems like months of our days, days of our months always like this sure it’s like this

Bo Ra asked, “What are you saying?” Ji A’s mom said, “She died this morning.” Today morning at Ji A’s place, Ji A said to her mom, “Mom, I am leaving to work. Probably I would be late tonight.” Ji A’s mom asked, “Where are you going?” Ji A said, “I am going to a blind date today.” Ji A’s mom asked, “Are you telling this? Do I hear right?” Ji A said, “Don’t mock at me. I have to move on from past. I have a life.”