I wrote this poem, its not very gd, but i wanted some criticism, so i figured...well, here goes
Skeletal Kiss
Kisses from a skeleton.
A hand that cannot touch.
A nose that can't pick up the scent
Of perfumed skin, as such.
Sweet nothings from a skeleton,
Inspired দ্বারা sightless eye.
Words tainted, দ্বারা the rotted lips
Through which they must pass by.
Embraces from a skeleton.
The fault of broken heart,
Which used to rest in marrow cage
But now is gone, in part.
প্রণয় comes not from a skeleton,
From death, from lack of life.
It only lives in memory
Which lives through after life.
Ok, be honest, What do আপনি guys think?
Skeletal Kiss
Kisses from a skeleton.
A hand that cannot touch.
A nose that can't pick up the scent
Of perfumed skin, as such.
Sweet nothings from a skeleton,
Inspired দ্বারা sightless eye.
Words tainted, দ্বারা the rotted lips
Through which they must pass by.
Embraces from a skeleton.
The fault of broken heart,
Which used to rest in marrow cage
But now is gone, in part.
প্রণয় comes not from a skeleton,
From death, from lack of life.
It only lives in memory
Which lives through after life.
Ok, be honest, What do আপনি guys think?
Hi everyone this is a poem I wrote the other day, I think it's supposed to have some hidden meaning, like, আপনি know, money can't buy happiness and if আপনি try to buy it your being ripped off... অথবা something... To be honest I don't really remember what I was thinking when I wrote it. Anyways, what do আপনি think?
A Bag Of Happiness
I skip on down to the market,
With my pocket full of of magic beans,
I hand them to the vendor,
“A bag of happiness, please.”
He passes me over a drawstring bag,
Made of velvet, inky black,
I thank him with a friendly smile,
He smiles eerily back.
I hurry প্রথমপাতা and pull the string,
Glad nobody was near,
But my face fell as I looked inside,
The little bag was bare.
A Bag Of Happiness
I skip on down to the market,
With my pocket full of of magic beans,
I hand them to the vendor,
“A bag of happiness, please.”
He passes me over a drawstring bag,
Made of velvet, inky black,
I thank him with a friendly smile,
He smiles eerily back.
I hurry প্রথমপাতা and pull the string,
Glad nobody was near,
But my face fell as I looked inside,
The little bag was bare.
A little motavational poem I found link. Enjoy. ;P
At age 4, success is...not peeing in your pants.
___At age 12, success is...having friends.
____At age 16, success is...having a driver's license.
_______At age 20, success is...having sex.
________At age 35, success is...having money.
________At age 50, success is...having money.
_______At age 60, success is...having sex.
_____At age 70, success is...having a driver's license.
___At age 75, success is...having friends.
At age 90, success is...not peeing in your pants.
At age 4, success is...not peeing in your pants.
___At age 12, success is...having friends.
____At age 16, success is...having a driver's license.
_______At age 20, success is...having sex.
________At age 35, success is...having money.
________At age 50, success is...having money.
_______At age 60, success is...having sex.
_____At age 70, success is...having a driver's license.
___At age 75, success is...having friends.
At age 90, success is...not peeing in your pants.
