Tag: Poetry
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New Neighbor, Old Ghost #WriteAPageADay #620
A moving truck, a familiar face, and a past that refuses to stay buried. When an old friend returns as a new neighbor, the echoes of childhood stir, weaving memory and reality into an unfinished story.
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Books That Made Me Go ‘What??’ An Odyssey of Literary Chaos #WriteAPageADay #1050
I reach the last page. Or so I think. It folds into another. And another. The story writhes, refuses to conclude, characters resurrect, plotlines unravel, an author laughs from the shadows. I try to close the book, but the pages flutter like a trapped bird, refusing to be caged, refusing to be finished.
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Happiness is an Inside Job: A Poetic Exploration Across Perspectives #WriteAPageADay #825
Happiness isn’t a destination, a prize, or a fleeting emotion—it’s an ongoing dialogue between the self and the world. This poem takes you through shifting perspectives—to reveal that happiness was always within, waiting for you to listen.
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My Rules to Getting Stuff Done #WriteAPageADay #700
Completion is a mirage. No masterpiece is ever done, only abandoned at the right moment. I do not chase the end—I let it find me when it is ready.
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What Would I Do If I Knew I Would Not Fail? I Would—(No, I Already Did) #WriteAPageADay #850
I would—(No, I already did). I built cathedrals in the wind, unzipped gravity, and breathed in failure like oxygen. I sculpted oceans from reflections, burned maps, and let hesitation bloom into something unbreakable. What would you do if you knew you would not fail? No—what will you do, now that you know?
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Fracture Hymn: The Beauty of Breaking and Healing #W3Prompt
Broke once. Broke twice. Screamed into the hollow of myself, but the echoes stitched me back.
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The Aftertaste of Triumph: A Reflection on Fulfillment #WriteAPageADay #725
Three victories. Three symphonies. And yet, I remain undone—a conqueror and captive, seeker and settler, alive in the unfiltered ache of existence. This is how triumph tastes when the echoes of longing refuse to fade.
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The Room is Unfamiliar: A Journey into the Self
The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. The walls hum in tones I’ve never heard. Not whispers. Not words. Just a vibration. A presence. The room is not just a place—it’s a mirror, a canvas of fears, memories, and truths. In its stillness, I find myself.

