“She is still healing in a quiet way.”

If any one dares today I am in pain.

In life, we’re all experiencing similar things in different places and points in time.

People are in control of their choices and sad to say we are not chosen.

It’s good to be loved without being left Behind.

There are some things that are meant to have and not just meant to keep.

Books and poetries. These are things I have always loved to write and share with you.

In my poems we made memories.

She, three single lettered word yet still, my heart’s deepest wound.

Her heart is like poetry a modern poetry only understood by some and accepted by few.

In his eyes she was both poetry and prose.

Her eyes made me feel better.

I’m a poet, a sad poet, who wrote about her, always and forever.

The quiet hearts speaks the loudest prayer, hoping someone would hear.

Some of the magical moments in our life are from the smallest moments.

There were things that he wanted to write on paper, about everything he couldn’t tell her.

Sometimes, we express our words through writing, even though it needs to be spoken.

Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature.

Don’t show the world how alone you’ve become.

Nothing you have not given away will ever really be yours.

What broke you, won’t heal you.

Look well into thyself; there is a source of strength which will always spring up if thou wilt always look.

Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.

Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.

The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places.