The flow has started,
Her mood, broken-hearted,
Cramps and pain, unbearable,
Everything seems so terrible.
Her emotions are on a ride,
Just being near her, you’ll have to abide,
With kindness and love, by her side,
You can help her through this strife.
Tag: girl
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Period Blues
Broken-hearted, Cramps, Emotions, girl, kindness, love, Mood Swings, pain, Period, poem, poems, Poetry, support, terrible, Unbearable
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A Tribute To A Girl I Once Loved
A Tribute To A Girl I Once Loved
Her eyes, like twinkling stars so bright,
A smile that lit up the darkest night,
Her laugh, like music to my ears,
A love so pure, it overcame my fears.
We danced beneath the moon and stars,
Our love a flame that burned so far,
But life came and tore us apart,
A piece of me left with her heart.
Now memories of her sweet embrace,
Remind me of a love I cannot replace,
She’ll always hold a special place,
In my heart, her love will never efface.
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The Most Beautiful Girl
The Most Beautiful Girl
The most beautiful girl,
With eyes that shine like stars,
A smile that lights up the world,
And a heart that knows no bars.She walks with grace and ease,
Her laughter fills the air,
A gentle soul with a kind heart,
And a spirit that’s beyond compare.In every curve and line,
There’s a story to be told,
Of love and happiness,
And a heart that’s pure as gold.She’s a wonder to behold,
A true gift from above,
Her presence brings joy and peace,
And fills our hearts with love.
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You Girl, Do Remain Sane
You Girl, Do Remain Sane
You girl, do remain sane,
In a world that’s sometimes insane.
With chaos and noise, and endless demands,
It’s easy to get lost, in the shifting sands.But hold on tight, to your inner peace,
And let your light shine, and never cease.
For in this world, we need your grace,
And your strength and courage, to face what we face.
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The Sunset’s Glow #Erotica #poetry
The sunset’s glow falls on your breast
My cock is hard and pointing west
It is erect and does not bend
Your nipples chilling in the wind
We’re standing naked in the sun
Our shadows cast as day is done
Your mound of Venus, shaved and bare
Does not hide the magic there
My head is bent. My mouth is full
Of ample breasts, I suck and pull
My fingers penetrate your mound
Your hand around my girth is found
We move together, faces greet
Our tongues entwine, their tips to meet
Your breasts compress against my chest
My hardness rubs against your nest
My cock’s responding to the scene
You spread your thighs and back you lean
And guide me with your gripping hand
Deep into your promised land
You’re hot and moist as in I glide
You’re pussy’s tight with me inside
You’re softly moaning in my ear
We watch my hard length reappear
Your lower lips cling to its girth
My swollen cock now show’s its worth
My swinging balls bang on your ass
As we make love, my beautiful lass.©VishalDutia
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Maybe too perfect for me
Eyes like too full moons
Face of an angel and heart as pure as it can be
You are the perfect girl
While I’m as imperfect as any other human
I am just another face in your eyes
But your so kind you make me feels special by juts looking at me
You’re too perfect
Maybe too perfect for me.© VishalDutia
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In Darkness (Thoughts of a girl)
We lay together in darkness as your hand trails down and rests between my thighs.
Your light caresses send me shivering into a world not entirely my own.
Your fingers dance in me, sliding through puddles, finding hidden doorways I’d thought long gone.
I brace your wrist, fingers encircle.
Don’t stop. Never stop.© VishalDutia
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Dream Girl That I Never Had #Poetry
My dream girl that I never had
I really wanted you so bad
The lust I felt you’ll never know
Or of the lengths that I would go
To please you and to make you ***
Until you are properly done
There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
Just for the chance pleasure you
No one would try harder than me
To make you scream in ecstacy
My fantasy and beauty queen
You are the woman of my dreams.– VishalDutia
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Celebration of Incompleteness
She celebrates her incompleteness
And dances with the music of her broken heart
When her soul sings the song of darkness and chaos
She matches it’s rhythm with her sobbing to create an art
She knows that this world will never be kind to her
Hence, she decorates her wounds with pride
For she can witness the world taking pleasure in her pain
She drinks her tears like she never cried
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A Tale Of Spice
I’m the sugar you’re the spice
as the sun and the blue skies,
we differ, but compliment
out each other’s nourishment,
a symbiosis perfect score
one that’s kept safely in store,
words come sweet and at times tangy
piquant ginger truly tasty,
sweet a muse that will define
my brains boiling out the brine,
through that shocking pretty look
I can’t get off from your hook,
I got entangled and ensnared
Feel of lost being impaired.
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A Women
A women whose life
isn’t surrounded by
a lie anymoret
is worth everything,A women who masters
the courage to bring
the truth to light,
deserves a man’s
understanding.
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She Killed Herself
She was walking alone on the dark street,
Unaware of the monsters who were chasing after her,
When she noticed them, it was too late,
They grabbed her,
She was begging for help but they were unmoved,
No one was there to help and save her from those beasts,
Somehow she managed to free herself,
She knew that she can’t save herself from their evil intentions, as they were more in number,
They tried to seize her again, threatening her with knife,
She grabbed that knife, And
Killed herself to protect her dignity,
Leaving behind some questions for society.
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A fight of purity by woman
Hey guys!!!
How will you feel,
If you are stopped from entering in kitchen for next five days???
What will you do,
If you are ordered to sleep on mat leaving your comfortable bed for next five days???
Will you not have a fight, if they stop you from entering in a temple saying you are impure for next five days???
How will you feel if you have two big fights every month,
The fight with bleeding pain,
& the fight with society…
I can easily defy the pain,
But tell me how to fight with this society,
How to answer this question on my purity???????
Cause if this is impurity,
Then the one who made these rules is himself impure!!!
& you all are also impure!!!
If it’s impure then God is also impure!!!
Sabrimala
Body is a temple
Bleeding is divine
Womanhood is spiritual
In ways that an intolerant devotee like you cannot understand
So when you barr me from entering Sabarimala
Remember that you can’t stop a goddess
Saraswati is wise but her rage is wild and merciless
Lakshmi will create earthquakes that will devastate
Durga will pierce your heart with her spear
Parvathi will leave her abode and run into the streets
Kali will destroy you in unimaginable ways
They reside within us
We will cut our feet on your shattered glass
We will shout till our voices become hoarse
An army of neglected women will create a tsunami
Till you’re on your back, crying
Till you give up your apparent ‘religion-saving’
Helpless, wailing
And bleeding
The Supreme Court of India ruled that not allowing women in their “menstruating years” into the Sabarimala temple is against the constitution, and all women should be allowed to enter the temple. This was met with a lot of opposition from the conservatives and the entry of women into the temple was blocked by protestors.
The Supreme Court of India ruled that not allowing women in their “menstruating years” into the Sabarimala temple is against the constitution, and all women should be allowed to enter the temple. This was met with a lot of opposition from the conservatives and the entry of women into the temple was blocked by protestors.
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Insecurity #Poetry
Love..
he called her fat
coz he was thinhe called her pale
coz he was darkhe called her emotional
coz he was heartlesshe called her nagging
coz he was secretiveyet she loved
and he cheatedhis insecurities
killed the love
killed the girl
killed her entityshe hanged
and he died
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She’s a witch #Poetry
Candles light up her room
it smells like herbs
and flowersfall is her favorite season
she enjoys the rain
while dancing trough the woods
barefootedshe’s one with nature and the sun
but in love with the moon
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She was like Music #Poetry
She was like music,
and I longed to dance.Her heart was the beat,
and I begged for the chance.Her words were the vocals,
and I was put in a trance.Her smile was the melody,
and I fell in love at first glance.
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She Simled #Poetry
She smiled
But her eyes didn’t light up nor did her cheeks flush red
She smiled
As if she was showing her teeth for inspection instead
She smiled
Like she hated it, like she was wincing in grimace
She smiled
Like she would cry if given the chance
She smiled
But it was deviod of the bliss
It reminded me of judas’s kiss
Stripped of its passion and all wrong
It was a pharisee’s worship song
She smiled
With out smiling at all
That smile was a hollowed porcelain doll
And the way it played out on her face
Somehow reminded me of an empty flower vase.
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Unstoppable #Poetry
They kicked her
To the ground, and
Buried her
Along with her
Dreams and aspirations
But
Just like seeds
Sprouting
From beneath the soil,
She grew once again
And
Proved to the world
That she is
Unstoppable.
@2018. VishalDutia. All Rights Reserved.
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Rapism (INDIA)
In our great country INDIA,
These types of animals are found in addition to animals in INDIA.
first they rape.
second who support rape.
third those who support rape victims on the basis of religion.
others just watch the show.
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Motherhood in Childhood. (India)
Writing What She Feels.
I need help from someone
I made a promise that it will be difficult to keep
But I’ve never broken one before so i must keep it
But its such a scary thing
I must loose my virginity and get pregnant by july 1st
I will cry but it must happen
Which means i will be 17 a sophmore in highschool having a child
My child will be 2 years old when i graduate
They will be 2 when i am 19
When they are 16 and i will be 37
Life’s Hell.
These Things Need To Be Changed.Every Person Is Born To Live His Own Life
In His Own Way He/She Chooses Too.
India remain among the countries where a girl is extremely likely to be married before she is 18, and have a child while still a teenager a result, acc. the United Nations reports
Every year some four million teenage girls in India have babies, the UN said earlier this year.
For every 1,000 girls aged 15 to 19, there were 76 adolescent births in India in 2010 compared to 49 worldwide and 53 in less developed regions.
Stillbirths and newborn deaths are 50% more likely among infants of adolescent mothers than among mothers aged 20 to 29, according to the World Health Organization in 2012. Infants who survive are more likely to have a low birth weight and be premature than those born to women in their 20s.
Underage marriage and teen pregnancy are major health and economic concerns. Some 70,000 teen girls die every year from complications in pregnancy and childbirth, mostly in the developing world, the report said. The report did not say how many of these deaths take place in South Asia.
In India, nearly half of women marry under the age of 18, the report said, citing the most recent Indian government data available. In some states, that percentage is even higher even though the practice is outlawed throughout the country.
The worst state for child marriage is the eastern state of Bihar, among the poorest in the country, where nearly 70% of women in their early twenties reported having been married by the age of 18.
Although it is illegal for girls to get married under the age of 18, there’s cultural acceptance for the practice and law enforcement rarely gets involved.
“Everyone thinks that the earlier you get the girl married, the less money you’ll have to give,”
National crime data from 2012 showed that a third of all rapes that year happened to girls aged 18 or under. Marital rape is not a crime in India unless the wife is under the age of 15, and is not counted separately in crime statistics. Shameless Indian’s.
The Biggest Questions
Can We People Change?
Yes, But We Indians Won’t
Because We Are Greedy Of Manly Power That Our Society Has Addicted To Us.Greedy MotherFuckers We Indian’s Are.
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Growing Rape Culture In India
We live in INDIA where no means convince me and flirting is a green light for sex.
Where women are told, don’t get raped and men are rarely told, don’t rape.
Where slut shaming is encouraged and victims are blamed.
Where speaking out about rape is a call for attention and rape victims are silenced.
We live in INDIA where rape culture is normal and that is **unacceptable.
I know was supposed to be away from WordPress but can’t hold back by thoughts,
I Can’t Hold Myself Back After Kathua Rape Incident
I Am With #HangKathuaRapistPlease Support🙏
I Also Demand Death Penalty For Rapist, But Only After Cutting There Testicles Benchod..
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A Girl #Poetry
she was tall,
she had beautiful eyes,
she has a family,
friends.but they all have to,
understand,
that,
she’s just a human being.
she doesn’t need a lot of,
followers, nor especially,
a hater.all the wanted for them to understand is,
she’s just like you, she can feel,
cry and smile too.she’s also God’s Creation.
she’s just,
A girl
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No healers, All wounded #Poetry
She sits and cries,
She cries and waits,
She waits for someone,
Someone to help,
But no one comes
No one helps,
So
She waits as she cries
She cries as she sits
Next to a boy
Who sits and cries.
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Poem About Healing From Rape With Writing. (Heart Touching)
Rapism Is A Shameless Crime Committed By Human‘s On Human‘s Ever.
I can‘t talk to anybody,I feel like nobody understands,So I pick up some paper and grab me a pen.You see me smile, but if you only knewThe things that I hold ontoAnd just can‘t seem to let go.I know I must forgive, and I said that I do,But I don‘t really think that I actually do.Forgive my mother, my uncle, stepdad, and aunt‘s boyfriendFor the pain they put me through as a kid.I spoke up, no one listened.So it continued on and I just didn‘t mentionThe things that went on in the middle of the night.It happened before, so maybe it‘s all right.At 5, at 8, at 9 and 10.Over and over and over again.She caught him, forgave, got married, nothing changed.I‘m over it now, I really am.I think about it every now and then.Have trouble sleeping at night.I laugh about it now, especially when I used to sleep with a knife.I know the only way to get over it,Is to open up and speak,But when I spoke when I was younger,No one heard me.So you tell me, WHAT THE HECK DO I DO,When that voice in my head keeps saying,You‘re wasting your time, no one cares about you.I can‘t shake that, I‘ve believed that my whole life.I‘m just glad that God gave me a pen, paper, and the ability to write.‘Cause when I feel like no one hears me,I just write.Lets Raise Our Voices For These Shameless Act
Note: These Poem Is Written By A Girl Undisclosed
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Dangerous for Girls #Poetry
It was the summer of Chandra Levy, disappearing
from Washington D.C., her lover a Congressman, evasive
and blow-dried from Modesto, the TV wonderingin every room in America to an image of her tight jeans and piles
of curls frozen in a studio pose. It was the summer the only
woman known as a serial killer, a ten-dollar whore trollingthe plains of central Florida, said she knew she would
kill again, murder filled her dreams
and if she walked in the world, it would crackher open with its awful wings. It was the summer that in Texas, another
young woman killed her five children, left with too many
little boys, always pregnant. One Thanksgiving, she triedto slash her own throat. That summer the Congressman
lied again about the nature of his relations, or,
as he said, he couldn’t remember if they had sex that lastnight he saw her, but there were many anonymous girls that summer,
there always are, who lower their necks to the stone
and pray, not to God but to the Virgin, herself oncea young girl, chosen in her room by an archangel.
Instead of praying, that summer I watched television, reruns of
a UFO series featuring a melancholic woman detectivewho had gotten cancer and was made sterile by aliens. I watched
infomercials: exercise machines, pasta makers,
and a product called Nails Again With Henna,ladies, make your nails steely strong, naturally,
and then the photograph of Chandra Levy
would appear again, below a bright red number,such as 81, to indicate the days she was missing.
Her mother said, please understand how we’re feeling
when told that the police don’t believe she will be found alive,though they searched the parks and forests
of the Capitol for the remains and I remembered
being caught in Tennessee, my tent filled with windlifting around me, tornado honey, said the operator when I called
in fear. The highway barren, I drove to a truck stop where
maybe a hundred trucks hummed in pale, even rowslike eggs in a carton. Truckers paced in the dining room,
fatigue in their beards, in their bottomless
cups of coffee. The store sold handcuffs, dirtymagazines, t-shirts that read, Ass, gas or grass.
Nobody rides for free, and a bulletin board bore a
public notice: Jane Doe, found in a refrigerator boxoutside Johnson, TN, her slight measurements and weight.
The photographs were of her face, not peaceful in death,
and of her tattoos Born to Run, and J.T. caught inscrollworks of roses. One winter in Harvard Square, I wandered
drunk, my arms full of still warm, stolen laundry, and
a man said come to my studio and of course I went—for some girls, our bodies are not immortal so much as
expendable, we have punished them or wearied
from dragging them around for so long and so we gowearing the brilliant plumage of the possibly freed
by death. Quick on the icy sidewalks, I felt thin and
fleet, and the night made me feel unique in the eyesof the stranger. He told me he made sculptures
of figure skaters, not of the women’s bodies,
but of the air that whipped around them,a study of negative space,
which he said was the where-we-were-not
that made us. Dizzy from beer,I thought why not step into
that space? He locked the door behind me.
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