Top Stories
-
-
What Cancer Took
I wrote this poem back in 2025 because in May of 2023 I had lost my dad to pancreatic cancer and how I express things is through poems so I wrote this poem not just to help others who’ve lost someone to cancer but also for me and my family.
-
-
-
-
-
My Younger Self
A letter of compassion to the younger self—acknowledging quiet storms, releasing old wounds, and embracing the simple joy of living.
-
Last Bell
I wrote “Last Bell” as a way to hold onto the memories of my school days—the laughter, the pranks, the friendships, and even the scoldings that shaped who I am today. Each line carries a piece of the classroom that will always stay with me, even as life moves forward. This poem is my tribute to those moments that seemed ordinary at the time but became extraordinary when we looked back. It’s a reminder that while the final bell may have ended our classes, it could never end the bonds and memories we created together.
-
Flowers and the Sun
This poem is heavily inspired by the greek mythology about Clytie, who fell in love with the Apollo, the sun god. However, when the god did not return her feelings, she sat and wathched him for nine days and then ultimately dying. The gods took pity on her a turned her into a flower that would always follow the sun, which is now known as the modern day \"sunflower\". The poem explores the theme of how the unreqited love can be deathly.
-
Memory Grains
This poem was born from watching an elderly woman sitting alone at a bus stop, talking to herself. While the world hurried past her, this piece was written to imagine the fragmented thoughts of a mind fighting dementia—a quiet look at isolation, where memories drift away like ants while life rushes by.
-
Faces I almost forgot
> What I captured wasn\'t just a visit. It was awkward love - loving people whose names I almost forgot. It was time moving too fast, trying to fit 10 years into one afternoon. And the quiet after, feeling full and empty at the same time. Homesick for people who are still alive, for a version of us as kids in one yard. Family love doesn\'t disappear with distance, it just gets quiet. Yesterday it got loud again.
-
THE POET AND HER MOON
Some promises are written because you’re terrified that one day you won’t be there to keep them. I wrote this for the person I’d give everything to, just to make sure they never feel as alone as I once did.
-
-
Today... or tomorrow?
I found myself wondering why I always seemed to tell people \"I\'ll do it tomorrow\", and then when tomorrow came, look at them sheepishly with a smile, only to tell them \"tomorrow\" yet again. And if I am so ready to speak of tomorrow, why not today? After all, tomorrow eventually becomes today. And I wanted today to feel the same amused frustration I did, which is reflected in the poem. Today suspects tomorrow is an imposter, and feels triumph when he thinks he\'s figured it out, which is exactly how I felt, when I thought I\'d understood the logic behind \"tomorrow\"!
-
Ink of My Unwritten Story
This poem is an intimate confession of belonging, capturing the way a deep connection acts as both an anchor and an ecosystem for an unsettled heart. Built around the quiet certainty of finding a home in another person, the narrative translates vulnerability into raw, elemental imagery. It moves fluidly through natural cycles of light, tide, rain, and shadow to reflect how love can feel as essential and inevitable as the physical world. At its core, the piece explores the tension between unspoken emotion and full articulation. By framing the beloved as the ink to an unwritten story and the poetry a soul struggles to compose on its own, it speaks to the way true intimacy completes the thoughts we cannot name. The rhythm moves from immediate sensory warmth toward profound emotional refuge, tracing a path from inner restlessness to quiet surrender. Ultimately, it frames love not as a fixed final point, but as an ongoing journey where every ending simply becomes a space to begin anew together.
-
Magical ball of nature
Magical Ball of Nature celebrates the beauty and magic of rainfall. The poem personifies nature as a grand celebration, where clouds form a stage, the wind applauds and dances, and raindrops become sparkling pearls, inviting people to experience the fleeting happiness of nature.
-
Stranger in my own story
This poem explores the quiet loneliness of being misunderstood. It tells the story of someone whose kindness was mistaken, questioned, and slowly turned against them until they began feeling like a stranger within their own life. As other people’s words took root in a heart that only wanted to heal, the speaker is left wondering how much kindness can bleed before it stops being called kindness. At its core, the poem is about alienation, misunderstood intentions, and the painful moment when you no longer recognise yourself through the stories others have created about you.