Poems About Feelings Novels & Stories

My heart started to beat fast in my chest. How many times had she seen us at our worst? How much had we hurt her without even realizing it? Feeling overwhelmed, I turned to the next page and found a short poem scribbled in her neat handwriting. It was about stars, rivers, and memories. Reading her words, I felt a sense of peace and calm wash over me. It was as if Val was speaking to me through her poetry, reminding me of the beauty and wonder of life.

You don’t know this, but you made me feel nostalgic For something that hasn't even happened yet. Dear K, You can't possibly understand how I feel about you Because I don't even see how these words could translate it I don't know what to name it or how to address it So I’m not even going to try to describe it There is a gap between my brain and my heart And no adjectives in the world could ever fit * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

* I saw the beauty of the sky Colors so vibrant you'd think they never die * I saw the beauty of the waves Every splash telling a story of younger days * I saw the beauty of the rains Every drop falling freely like horses without reins * I saw the beauty of the night For only then were the stars alight * I saw the beauty in the flames of a fire Each one burning with a different desire * I saw the beauty of Gold Glistening with bitter stories untold * Oh I saw the beauty of dust and clay Simple reminders of our end someday.

Before going to bed, I took my diary and wrote down a quote from Lise Kiberwa's poetry collection called "Wind", Completely for no reason at all!: >>Like the wind, I don't want to belong anywhere. Just like the wind, I want to be felt but not seen. Like the wind, I want to both strengthen and extinguish the wildfire. Like the wind, I want to stress some poor old lady gently sweeping her compound by bringing all the dirt she's been removing.

That was how reality played. “Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind Possessing and caressing me…” Her voice was soft and gentle. It was like a cold, soft breeze that would brush against his skin every morning. It felt like a soft blanket on a cold, rainy day when he would sip into the hot chd like always because that had been the very reality that they were bound into. They still had a life of their own that was waiting outside their bubble.

I will miss our trips to the nearby pool, We'd rather read books there and pretend to be cool, I want to say goodbye one more time and cry with one more kiss, Goodbye, my mother, it's you I will forever miss, When the storms fill my eyes, and all the feels make me cry, I'll remember your sweet lullabies as I say, 'Goodbye. Jeremy leaves the microphone, and everyone next to me pats my back. I never knew what to say at funerals. Poems were the only words that made sense to me. Of course, they don't make sense to other people, but to me, that poem wasn't for them. The sparrow in the tree spreads its wings and flies out into the clouds. I know deep down that's the last time I will ever see that

She asks, lost in his eyes, lost in the soft sensation of his touch. "I'm scared of an ending Even a happy one. I never finish a sentence Cause I fear you will not be there to answer. I never end a thought Cause I fear you will not be in the next one. I never feared death Cuse I thought I am imortal. But you, my love Are poison for the Gods." He whispers the poem in her ear like the rest of the world is not supposed to hear the words, like the wind is not supposed to carry them anywhere else. They are just for her.

I ask, my voice holding no emotions which is contradicting the way I am currently feeling. You know the kind of feeling you get when you know you have been betrayed? The feeling when your stomach is in pains and you feel tremors in your legs. When your heart palpitates and your throat begins to close up. When the entire world seems to have slowed down and you just want to curl up in a corner and cry. That is how l feel. Just about a thousand times much worse than that. But I have a lot more to listen to. There is more to hear. And there is also more to grieve over.

Wearing his clothes, he took out a piece of paper from the book, but his movements halted, seeing the page filled with ink, his heart skipped a beat reading the poem, Like the moon you are flawed, then why you are the only source of light in the darkness. Like the moon, you are far, then why do you go with me everywhere making me feel a little less lonely? Like the moon, I am scared we will never be together that there are no forever. Like the moon, I adore you from afar,Always. Like the moon, you bring tides of emotions, flooding me in saving me from the numbness, this world can offer. Like the moon, you are not of this world, For you, are my moon in the heart that beats for you,

I lie here awake but I’m not one to pray, everything’s changed but now I’m okay. I’m rattled this time, can someone lift my chin, keep my head above water before I’m too deep in. I’ve never had problems, where do I begin, but it’s not a problem because I’m just being human.’ I had always liked poetry and this particular one actually got to me because I felt I could relate to it in a weird kind of way. “Poetry is light, poetry is love. That’s a poem written by an anonymous poet on i*******m. Pstar7….”