“Real love will make you blind, Like myself when I started to write poems about her.”

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.

She is still healing in a quiet way.

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.

Losing her was plenty.