Showing posts with label Best Love Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Best Love Poems. Show all posts

Friday, January 23, 2015

A Broken Flower Love Poem by Daniela Cuellar


A Broken Flower
Don't look at it.
It's not what it appears.
It smiles. 
It laughs.
It is not real.
It's hurt.
Touch it, it'll break.
Look at it, it'll drown.
It'll cry until it hurts.
It's haunted.
The thoughts of you tear it apart.
Why can't it let go? 
What has it become?
It was once happy, now, just upset.
It was once laughing, now, cries until death.
Its heart was wide open, now, hard as a rock.
A smile.
It haunts it.
It tears it apart.
Leave.
It doesn't want you.
Why can't it let go?
A shadow.
Behind it.
Hurting.
So sore.
It will hide 'till forever.
Its want will not cease.
You will not find it.
It will not live in peace.
Yes, it will fall.
Fall as it please.
You will not catch it.
It will let go, as much as you call.
It will not answer, as much as you want.
It is done with you. 
Leave.
It will cry out the hurt.
Don't look at it.
Please.
It will let go.
It's not what it appears.
It is not the real "me".
Until someone comes back, like this it will be.
Touch it, it'll break.
Kiss it, it'll bleed.
It doesn't want to hurt you.
Please!
Leave it be!
It starts as a seed.
It blooms as a flower.
It'll grow and it'll grow.
Grow by the hour.
Please let it go.
Just let it hide.
Because after it blooms, it'll shrivel and die.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Platonic Love Poem with Picture By: Rakoon



Hear. I'm calling you in silence,
won't you feel my cry?
Nights and days have passed and 
my heart has been looking back
It's blind and sad now: it feels betrayed
and hurt and it's holding its pieces toghether 
not to fall into the bitterness of apathy.
The mind suffers for its painful friend and 
it lives in a daydream.
I find some peace there, under that
imponent, bloomy tree: I'd stand still,
a silent wind caressing the long hair away.
My eyes looking tenderly into yours: 
two mirrors that shine of a same light;
We wouldn't dare to step forward at
once, but you'd finally be won by that
most innocent desire. As if two more ancient
voices were calling each other in a desperate 
agony, we'd get closer and closer; the memory of
reality would stop us at first, but that place,
it is most hidden and far from it.
You will be just in front of me and after a little while
you'll take my hand into yours.
I'll always be here for you when
you need.
Hear me, hear my weak cry,
you should know all that...!!!