Insatiable, Pensive & A Very Candid Girl Who Hates Monotonous Stuff & Has Concentric & Frivolous Ways Of Life & Luvs Mitigatin & Dissipatin Stuff. I Define My Own Life. I Do Not Let Others Write My Script.. I Insist That You See I Aint A Mystery.
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Raabia Tabassum Poems
The Rain Knocks On My Window
The rain knocks on my window, In the middle of an abysmal sleep. Dreams shattered and broken, I wake up again and not the first.
a bunch of flowers
i went to the tall grass where the wind was blowing gently it looked as if we were in heaven but we werent
birds in the sky
Birds fly, Birds fly. So up in the sky, And when they fly they look so small.
I Cannot Speak For I Have Lost Words.
I cannot speak for I have lost words, For you have changed & I am left bewildered. I cannot walk for I have lost hope,
Hope - A Solicit Sight
Everyday a new beginning, A hope for a change, A hope that lights up the soul; Wanting to vicissitude ways
i like to run and jump and play there are so mnay things to do it only makes it better when its with a friend or two
Its very hard to walk a mile But its very easy to give a smile
to go inside a tunnel or find jewels find the hidden mystries is called an
If I could catch a rainbow I would do it just for you And share with you its beauty On the days you're feeling blue.
Life is as sweet as a song, It is short or maybe long.
August Is Gonna End Soon
August is gonna end soon, And all these afternoons. I did nothing but enjoy, Splashin' and ridin' everyday.
Doom Making It's Way.
I can feel terror. I can feel doom making it's way. In a few hours it will be time. Though it's long but we all know,
The River Echoed
The river once again echoed, it's pain none understood. Lost in their work, So busy they were.
Death Is Nearing.
Each moment a second passes, A second that was attached with our life. Days are passing quickly I must say, Time is passing, death is nearing.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
The Rain Knocks On My Window
The rain knocks on my window,
In the middle of an abysmal sleep.
Dreams shattered and broken,
I wake up again and not the first.
In the disguise of weeps,
You snatch away my saccharine sleep.
You knock on my window,
And shatter absurd noises.
Rain beads continue,
One after the other.
And my nerves back and forth creep
Cause you don't pause and discontinue.
You take away my sleep,
You give me eerie cacophony.
Amusing you are,
You make me ecstatic too.
Sometimes, I abhor you,
'cause you disturb my abyss sleep.