My Moonlight

My Moonlight short poem

Uploaded by Pramod Shrestha

I didn’t use to gaze at the moon,
Never I did till few weeks back,
It was a clear sky, when she shined,
So bright than rest of the stars,
Flaws seem to be a part but,
Looked so magnificent that,
You won’t care but simply admire,
Solitude may be a common interest,
And the cold breeze,
Gave me a moment of bliss,
Commenced the eagerness to see her every day,
When there were dark clouds,
Felt like crush it down,
Complete darkness let me lonely,
The crescent, a hope of reunion,
May be infatuated by her,
A self-inflicted tormentous feeling of mine,
Intangible emotions of love between us,
Far is she, I can only watch,
Her luminousity will always be there,
I won’t give up,
As I know her brightness is only for me,
Own-feelings that nobody can take,
Only mine, only mine

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of

My Only Friend

My Only Friend short poem

Am I Alive, or am I dead? Is this all just a dream inside my head? I feel like I’m losing my grip. Quick say something, anything before I slip. Nightmares slowly creeping. Has he finally come to do the

From My Journals ‘love’

From My Journals love short poem

The very essence of love is uncertain, A relentless thumping of the heart. I must speak to you by such means as they are within my reach. He pierces my soul driving me into madness. I am half agony, half

My Friend Crystal

My Friend Crystal long poem

I am the women that hasn’t been able to lose all her baby weight. I am the dad that works two jobs and always gets home late. I am the high school cheerleader trying to be someone shes not. I

From My Journals ‘anxiety’

From My Journals anxiety prose poem

The moon awaits eagerly in the same pedestal it ignited my passion. What lips, my lips have kissed, are long forgotten. The memories easily quickened as a few puddles along the way I voluntarily stepped in. What arms have lain

From My Journals ‘cinnamon’

From My Journals cinnamon prose poem

He saw things in a way that others did not, he was the only one that saw my dreams differently, I became beautiful with the light of his smiling eyes. There my soul drifted render in angle to give the