Filthy
The Language of Falling Leaves
🍂 Introduction: When Nature Teaches Us to Begin Again Every season carries its own poetry, but autumn speaks in a language unlike any other. The falling leaves are not just signs of endings—they are whispers of renewal, reminders that change, though sometimes painful, is necessary for growth.
By Nadeem Shah 6 months ago in Poets
The Last Conversation We Never Had
Story The Last Conversation We Never Had I should have said it when we were sitting on that cracked bench in the park, your scarf fluttering in the spring breeze, and I kept staring at you like I’d never see you again. I didn’t know then that I wouldn’t. I thought there would always be tomorrow, another chance to speak, another quiet moment where the world softened enough to hold us both.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Poets
Somewhere Between Yesterday and Tomorrow
Somewhere Between Yesterday and Tomorrow The sun was low, a warm amber spilling over the horizon, casting long shadows that stretched like memories across the quiet bridge. I walked slowly, the steady rhythm of my footsteps mixing with the gentle whisper of the wind.
By waseem khan7 months ago in Poets
