black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.

M.K. Standby

The leaves know when to let go – if only I had the same instinct.
M.K. STANDBY

Instinct Known Leave Let Go
Born in one country and raised in another – seperated by ocean, but tied in blood.
M.K. STANDBY

Blood Country Immigrant Ocean
A fight of a thousand years – the smart mind and the hopeful heart.
M.K. STANDBY

Fight Heart Hope Mindset Smart
Your kisses fell on me like sand through an hourglass – a thousand tiny moments, for an eternity of stillness.
M.K. STANDBY

Fall Heart Kiss Moment
I’m scared of mediocrity, of scribing my soul on fading pages, each destined to the fate that met those before it – gently laid to rest in a growing pile of unwanted words.
M.K. STANDBY

Fade Growth Mediocre Myself Page Scare
It started the way it always does. A broken heart, and a blank page.
M.K. STANDBY

Heart Broken Page Start
I wished to every fountain, prayed to every god but some futures are set in stone – so here we go again.
M.K. STANDBY

Fountain Future Myself Prayer Stone
Leaves dance on twisted arms, swaying on the breeze as though choreographed by unseen hands. Even the faithless could find themselves converts, by the smell of dampened earth and its blossoming rose.
M.K. STANDBY

Blossom Dance Earth Faith Hands Leave Rose Twist
Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.
M.K. STANDBY

Haunt Heart Ink Ourselves Poet Story
Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.
M.K. STANDBY

Beyond Hold Language Limitation Scope
Peace found me in a wordless embrace – in the rising of autumn sun, and the sound of turning pages.
M.K. STANDBY

Embrace Finding Page Peace Sound
Scribbled lines and crumpled pages – piles of rejection and resurrection. There will never be the right words to amend a lost goodbye.
M.K. STANDBY

Goodbye Lost Poet Rejection Right Writing
14 days, but I can’t change my sheets. Your scents still marks my pillow – and its all that I have left.
M.K. STANDBY

Break Up Change I Miss You
My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
M.K. STANDBY

Myself Plagiarism Thinking Writing
The bond of friendship as tight as any lover – where shoulders carry shared burden, a devotion unmatched by any other.
M.K. STANDBY

Burden Devotion Friendship Lover
The smell of oak reminds me of summers spent sleeping under canvas, crackling fires and roasted coffee, the soft sound of guitar and voices in unison.
M.K. STANDBY

Fire Guitar Reminder Softness Sound Summer Unison Voice

Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.

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Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.

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Popular Authors

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