Blue Pink

Blue Pink Poems

Tomorrow never comes too slow.
A bit of toil and it is near.
Coming towards for the real.
Always ready to play its game.
...

When the water turns murky,
while the conscience is clear
There's no amount of screaming,
that can reach my ear...
...

I dread... the fourteenth of November
to come my way.
It will all become an illusion.
An incomplete transformation
...

How i love the rise of the morning sun...
The coolness and gentleness of air that caress my heart...
How i love the azure sky...
The green leaves of trees that caught my eye...
...

I have crossed countless mountains and trampled thousands of tarmac.
I have traveled every desert and got thirsty along my way.
There were no foods no water.
My stomach looks for prey.
...

Empty and void in a dusk room,
As her blood ceased running its veins.
Every space filled with pretensions,
Unhappy and guilty to presence.
...

A dirty mirror of herself.
Black dark dusk in a bastille.
Millions of miles away from breathing.
Sadness. Sadness. Sadness.
...

The Best Poem Of Blue Pink

Tomorrow

Tomorrow never comes too slow.
A bit of toil and it is near.
Coming towards for the real.
Always ready to play its game.
Play without expectations,
As it's either you will lose or win.
Pondering what good it brings,
or what another battle to fight in.

As you see the sun rising.
Be ready for another day.
It will rise again.
And again. And again.

But what should to tell tomorrow,
when we are in obscure battle of
the unknown - joy or sorrow,
something we never know.
Between the irony of no expectations
yet looking forward for a pleasant flow.

If we can command the sun,
when to rise and when to set...
If we have authority over the stars
and the clouds and rains...

What life can it be?

But tomorrow is today. And this day is tomorrow.
And tomorrow is its day.
Unending cycle of, tomorrow.

Are we prepared?

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