i thank you for the nice poem ihope u come back to visit my site u have good taste in pics and your words are very touching,so keep on doing the nice work,until then take care byby.
Just like a rose,
so precious and rare,
is the forever friendship
the two of us share.
~
Planted with kindness,
it's warmed by the sun
of caring and sharing,
laughter and fun.
~
It's grounded in trust
and nurtured by love,
with a sprinkling of grace
from God up above.
~
Tears of sadness and joy,
like dew,
renew this friendship
I share with you.
~
And in the heart's garden,
we find the room
to be ourselves,
to grow and bloom.
~
A blessing
of beauty unsurpassed,
our friendship's a flower
that will always last.
We said that " the life Is a wire screen and each one in fact his net " Personally I live each day while vainly seeking to find this wire which would help me to make my screen, In the middle of all these fabrics dark that my destiny tightens me like traps A each step. Rooms of torments its reserve to me to punish itself only crime which I made and gift that I am innocent: that to have been born! Thus I remain, an insect awaiting the fate which the spider reserves to him. I start all the morning with the feeling of a blind man of whith the eyes are thirsty to discover the light of day…. With the thoughts of a prisoner who dreams of freedom, keeping the hope of being able One day, cross these walls which lock up it with its loneliness and far from all what it dear in the life. Make an attempt of a torturer who will come to remove his heart to him. My face dug by the tears reflects only pessimism and sorrow. I walk, my way is only false road; if I speak, my words Are only lie; if I move my gesture it’s only violence if I sleep my dreams Are only nightmares! I do not know if had makes bad bets, or I had made some sacrileges Which is worth me to be curse until at the end of my days? Fortunately that I can make (or believe to know to make) the only good thing of which, I am able; to write. writeing until at the end my days writeing until at what ink ceases running until at what I blacken all white surfaces that I will find in front of my eyes. On even wall! Yes, I will write words right of the words only they most even do not have a direction I will write that there is some share in this world, somebody of sadder than sadness. Somebody whom misfortune follows like his .that shade misery took as a hostage. Somebody who have body without heart, but which has the limpid heart like the water of the mountain. And white like snow, that neither sadness, neither misfortune, nor misery will dirty dare .car this heart is protect by most powerful from the weapons: the liver! True the liver as Gods, which drives out any evil and any bad luck. But when until with this faith will remain in me? Because these waves of impatience’s will end up making run the boat of me will in the dark ocean of despair and the melancholy! I always try to be right; but I note that be wrong A each liver to satisfaction, which is the taste of the life? Is it True life? How is the face of happiness made? And does peace really exist it? I would also like to know what one feels when one is loved and when one likes. But you will not say anything to me of all this is not to it this step if I could at least intend You to say me that these questions do not have reconsiders; or tolke me about another things, divert me these thoughts tears (as one make for a child Who tear by what he wants have a bicycle, or new shoes….then one read gives mom’s calming his cray and complaints) But which knows… can be one day I will cross somebody who had to taste various dishes of the life. Thus will be able It to inform me about these entire beautiful things of which I am orphan. And still is it necessary that this somebody is able at good understand me… Which knows? All this for saying me? The life is it a cobweb
Royal Membership | Sites:
Dhaka
Bangladesh