Fathmath Sana

Fathmath Sana Poems

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read,
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree,
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down,

glittering, shimmering,
little miss fairy goes,
as she walks up to girls,
fulfills their dreams,

it is a story,
i always wanted to tell,
Once upon a time, i had a sister,
who is DEAD!

Friends are like stars,
Friends are like clovers,
Shining and giving luck at the same time.
Friends are like brothers,

i'll tell you about night,
which brings me fright,

when the sea swallows the sun,

I have a pencil,
My daddy gave it,
He brought it from the council,
Where he works and his life is fit.

oh mother!
you are a great patient!
listening to my com

He is a sailor,
but a handsome one.

He is a sailor,

A star is,

In my life,
I have a friend,
Close and cute,
Bright and hot!

eyes blue,
lips red,
cheeks rosy
and brows nice but bushy.

love is something,
love, is somebody,
love, what you do,
love, is what you get,

every time,
i help someone,
they say.
'ooooh what a good gal! '


Trees are so wonderful,
They grow with care,
They have seeds that is blessful,
Flowers which are bare,

]This a story about a human girl,
Who was torn between two boys,
Who were once humans too,
Once torn between a girl,

I have a sister,
All caring and wonderful,
Not even jealosy,
Traces her face,

Once a mermaid lived,
Deep in the ocean, where no one dived,
Beautiful and graceful,
Fair and glittering,

When I am gone, release me, let me go,
I have so many things to see and do,
You mustn't tie yourself to me with tears,
Be happy that we had so many years.

In blue fire, the final darkness is banished,
In blood, the final price is paid,
Four to stand between the light and the shadow,
Four of blue fire, power in their blood,

Cant you see?
Whats she lending me?
She cares for bees,
And cares for their buzzes,

The Best Poem Of Fathmath Sana

The Most Beautiful Flower.

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read,
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree,
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down,

And if that weren't to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play,
He stood right before me with his head tilted down,
And said with great excitement, 'Look what I found! '

In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petal worn-not enough rain, or too little light,
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a smile and then shifted away,

But instead of retreating he sat next to my side,
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise,
'It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful too,
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you, '

The weed before me was dying or dead,
Not vibrant of colours, orange yellow or red,
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave,
So I reached for the flower, and replied, 'Just what I need, '

But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it midair without reason or plan,
It was then that I noticed for the very first time,
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind,

I heard my voice quaver, tears shone like the sun,
As I thanked him for picking the very best one,
'You're welcome, ' he smiled, and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day,

I sat there and wondered how he managed to see,
A self-pitying girl teenager beneath an old willow tree,
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight,

Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see,
The problem wasn't the world; the problem was me,
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that's mine,

And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose,
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose,
And smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in his hand,
About to change the lives of and unsuspecting young couples!

Fathmath Sana Comments

Tim Colton 15 January 2014

this poem is a rippoff of another poets work........fake

0 1 Reply
p.a. noushad 16 January 2010

i love your poems very much

0 0 Reply

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