Pages From My Diary

  This is a poem inspired by a poem I read in my English textbook, "I asked the little boy who cannot see" the title is same, however I created a version for myself. Honestly, it was not easy to mold, and it did took me several editing attempts to even it out, I still think it could've been better, but I couldn't edit it anymore at the same point :\ (I'm genuinely convinced that I'm slopping down on poetry). One thing I like about it is the unintended whimsical effect, every time I red it I think I can imagine the descriptions, do let me know what you thought about it:   I asked the little boy who cannot see What do seasons feel like to thee Winter is like a long-kept secret Whispers of wet wood and crackle of bonfire  Spring is like a hug from a distant friend That's long-awaited yet evergreen Summer is always the taste of honey A loyal wooden swing, and scent of the seas  Autumn, well its like a bygone era Songs of the past that smell very young 

Poetry, this one came to my mind last night, while writing my daily night journal, I've never really discussed a prompt like this one, yet there it slipped in, I think this poem could've been longer, but I like it the way it is already, the last stanza is my personal favorite.  A poem made out of thin air, residing in the depths of my heart: Of all the things I've ever felt All the experiences I've gone through All the things I've seen, had, or wanted All the people I've ever met All the papers I've read All the pages I've wrote There's an endless list of possibilities Of what could be yours, and what not To everything and everyone and everywhere I say with all my heart that I'm yours I wanna tell them of how deeply I feel about the affair I wonder if love and affection could be measured If yes, then how But why measure love Why set it in limits For something that's so vast, so extensive Wouldn't it be unfair if boundaries were marked And...

Here's a poem, I won't say much for this as it is wrote for the sailing vessels and the valorous souls on board and my reflections over the current affairs. The seas turned silent The winds came to a halt Calls from the vessels Traveled thousands of miles Spread over the skies I sat there saying my prayers A leaf fell in I looked up at the moonlit sky And saw the constellations But not of Leo or Ara They were the constellations of Sara, Noor, Zain and thousands of others They looked down on me Questions in their eyes 'The vessels call you' They said 'Do you dare to answer' My heart leaps I wish I could answer them Say yes to the call Burn the boats like they did But how am I supposed to tell them That I'm behind the bars The bars I've created for myself The bars so nugatory compared to the ones Sinwar faced The bars I can break, But am not brave enough to The constellations disappeared Air rustles again Scent of the seas fills my chamber I sit there on m...

This is a poem about which I can say with conviction that I will never compose anything like this ever again. It gives two conclusions about this piece:  1. Its very special 2. I haven't really enjoyed the process of it, and don't plan to go through it ever again I got the idea at sharp 7:30 PM Thursday 25 September 2025, and I guess this piece is  special because this is the first ever piece on my blog that came to my mind, made it to my diary page and was actually published on my blog within two hours! (Big achievement) So background for this one is quite diverse: I was randomly reading through the lyrics of several English artists and it occurred to me that what I thought would be a great deal of work, thinking, and brainstorm  is actually not, in fact 'song writing' is poetry at its core. And that's when the idea came to me, If I can write poetry, I can write a song too. The idea of a 'song' was rejected immediately as it did not seem creative to me but ...

Another day, another poem. This one is my latest piece, and also quite dramatic. I had been thinking for a long time on the core concept of this prompt: People. I was feeling like we are slowly losing the value and importance of people in our lives, embracing loneliness and driving away from relations has been more on the trend. This felt like a piece in my mind from a long time, and writing it down felt like venting out my emotions in my diary and was quite relaxing: In a world full of people The light goes out It's silence for a moment And then I hear shouts But I can only hear them Unable to see the faces and their expressions For its total blackout Someone bumps in me 'Oh sorry' I hear I walk a few steps And stamp a feet 'Hey watch out' 'Sorry' I voice out I try to hold someone's shoulder 'Let go', and they run off I fall back onto somebody 'Hey, watch out young lady'  'I'm sorry, but I'm a gentleman' I regain my balan...

So I'm back with my poetry , since I had posted a writeup I felt it should be okay to post poetry.  Some background for this piece: One sunny morning, I was sitting by the fields and it just occurred to me that I've never really shed any light on the workers of this domain.  I had initially thought it to be a little tacky, but to my surprise, it was quite simple as if it had been there for a long time, and that I had always been writing about it. Rereading this now reminds me of "Amal unbound" a book I read a long time ago about a farmer's girl and her passion for reading and teaching, maybe somewhere I was inspired by that idea too. I'm personally very grateful that it tuned out to be so perfect:  You see that skinny boy walking amongst the fields Bending down every now and then, sowing the seeds The summer sun shines, hot on his face The winter wind slaps him, right in the face But he never stops, takes a day off Sowing the seeds today Shooing off the birds ...

 Hello, I'm back, expecting an essay or story, well, you'll have to wait for another post but believe me, I will strictly refrain from posting any more poetry until I haven't published one or two essays or stories, even if they're bouncing in my diary to be published. Well, to be honest, I have a couple of essays and stories in my diary, but I'm too lazy to publish them, I know you might be wondering why am I too fast regarding poetry then, that's because poetry takes less time to jump in my mind, scribble on the paper, and type on the blog (I'm too lazy in typing :\ ). So excuse me for now, and feel free to skip through it if you're tired of my poetry. A little bit of background for this poem is that, unlike the previous one, it didn't take any time to write, I did focus on balancing words and rhymes in it. and a quite interesting part is that I wrote it while sitting outdoors in a park, the sun was setting and washed over a sudden wave of nostalgia...

  Hello readers, I'm back after a short break. I think this time is enough for a break, not too long, nor too short So today's poem is on the topic of the ongoing Palestine issue, maybe I'm quite late in this regard, and I should've done this pretty sooner, well, I had intended to do so, but ideas won't come to me and yet, when they had finally sprung up, I picked up my pen and started filling pages of my diary. Shall I tell you a story? A story of excitement and happiness A story of love and hugs A story of peace and prosperity A story of the clear blue skies, and the lush green land of figs, olives, and prophets A story of the names embroidered on my family tree A story of my old home A home long lost Shall I tell you a story? A story of tears and sadness A story of harshness and bitterness A story of shoves and hatred A story of loss and despair A story of patience and resistance A story of the dark, grey skies And the grey, barren land of the dead A story of nam...

This is honestly the last poem on my blog (for today at least), this one, I wrote 'with someone' as a memory, it's not much focused on the balance and words, rather it's quite silly and childish, also very short, you may not enjoy it much, but well, it means 'something' to me. The sky is so high It makes me wanna fly I wanna touch it's end But I know it's very high I do want to discover What makes it change its color

So here's a poem, I call it the masterpiece of my diary, a little sentimental because I actually wrote it for 'someone', 'someone' very special to me :) The bright, smiling face The big, shining eyes That lit up my mode And haul me out of loneliness The letter in scribbly handwriting Wrote by the warm hands With a quilt and an ink The scent of lavender and the sight of duck's feathers Will always remind me of you And those happy moments spent with you

Hello, I'm back with my poems again after a three-day gap. As I couldn't accomplish my goal that day, (maybe that's my problem) I had to turn up here again to publish the leftover stock, but trust me, it's gonna be over today. This poem has a pretty long story, but I'll try to keep it short. I had been scribbling in my diary for long enough, and my diary had been in a pretty rough condition. I felt sorry for it and decided to write something for the thing that had been providing me inspiration and space to dump my writings in, initially, I had started by writing some traditional, letter-to-my-dear-diary stuff, but halfway through it, I changed my mind, and decided to turn it into something creative and more inspirational, 'a poem', that was the idea that came to my mind (I don't know why, but since I had attended the writing workshop, I have been writing poetry, poetry, and only poetry) so moving on, instead of writing that dear-diary stuff, I wrote this...

Okay, so another post.  The bad news: is it's a poem, the good news: is it's on a different topic:  Hope, a word that germinated when life began Hope, a word that gives new dimensions Hope, a feeling that enables a person to fly Hope, a nutrient essential for human growth Hope, a necessity for a person to bloom Hope, a drought of water in the desert of life Hope, a star in the dark. rainy night Hope, a sight of color in the black-and-white world Hope, a bloom of flowers on a hard concrete floor

 Another poem!!, fed up with them? I know, but I have to keep posting, as I have to hit my goal for today, which is to post all that I had stored up for six-plus months. This one's also about feelings, but trust me, it's the last one :> Pleasure is a pleasant little thing A thing that takes you to the height of enjoyment The feeling of happiness The smile on the face As you go through an experience An experience that goes through pleasure

Hey, I'm   here again, it's only been a minute since I posted my last poem, and here I am, typing another one, I figured out that maybe I should try to post as many writeups as I can for today, as I have another busy day looming up. This one's quite longer than the previous one and way better too, personally, I turned out to be very happy with it  So often it does happen  When you feel nothing You decide to do something But you end up with nothing There's a whirlpool of thoughts going on inside you But you think nothing You so badly want to do something But you do nothing If it ever happens to you It means that you live You feel You think You act You may not understand it sometimes But think upon it Try to catch the feeling And enjoy the moment The unique moment in your life The moment of emptiness And the feeling of nothingness P.S: It just occurred to me that all the poems I have posted on this blog are related to emotions and feelings, I'll try to write on some o...

 Hey fellas, I'm here with another poem, well since I have been very unpunctual, I decided to recompense it by posting as early as I can, I had this poem written in my diary, waiting to be published, and now that I have finally found some time, I decided to give it a go. It's really very short and uneven, but anyhow, I had promised to post all of my writing and poetry pieces, so I had to, I tried my best, so please don't judge :| The tear-stained face The sad eyes The frown on the forehead The sauntered stroll All shout out a note: 'Feeling depressed'

 Hey guys, I'm back. I know, I know, I'm very unpunctual on my blog, And I also know that I had promised a lot of stories and essays, but well, I've been really, really busy with my exams, visits to Karachi, visitors from Karachi, online workshops, courses, and a lot more!  I'm really very sorry about it, too feel quite bad about it, and well, I wanted to return and punch a few words here, but I simply couldn't find time. We plan a lot of things, but we never know what Allah has planned for us and what lies ahead, So excuse me for now, and just enjoy my latest poetry piece :)  I wrote this while attending a writing workshop, the assignment was to write a poem, and I wrote this one: I'm sitting in my room all alone Not a cup of coffee, not a single book, not my mobile Just me, my room, and my furniture What do I feel Nothing What do I do Nothing I hear music from the next house Cheers, laughter, and lots of people partying What should I do Nothing What do I think...