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How a poet was made❣️

S

shivagni

Guest
They met after a very long time...
He couldn't look into her eyes.....
after a very long frenzied silence,
He said" Im sorry....."
"Why" , She asked...
He said " please don't act like we are strangers...."
" Yes... yes we are strangers....", She said

He couldn't speak a word.... but his eyes did....
a drop of tear fell on the ground.... rolling down his cheeks she always adored....
Her heart skipped a beat... and yet she continued....
"I never wanted U to be mine... all I ever wanted was U to make me yours....."
You broke me soo violently that my heart closed out all its doors....
U cant blame me if I act like a Stranger....
You can find millions like me but not the same old Me anymore......
You dropped what was in only Ur hand while trying to pick up from the floor...
I dont hate U..... nor I can forgive U neither.....
U dragged me to the truth, I never want to face.....
through the loss I wasn't ready to feel...
U showed me trust and life can be shattered in the blink of an eye....
U taught me to trust myself more....
U taught me to be a poet.....
I wrote U in every verse, in every sonnet....
U made me a poet.....

 

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They met after a very long time...
He couldn't look into her eyes.....
after a very long frenzied silence,

He said" Im sorry....."
"Why" , She asked...
He said " please don't act like we are strangers...."
" Yes... yes we are strangers....", She said

He couldn't speak a word.... but his eyes did....
a drop of tear fell on the ground.... rolling down his cheeks she always adored....
Her heart skipped a beat... and yet she continued....
"I never wanted U to be mine... all I ever wanted was U to make me yours....."
You broke me soo violently that my heart closed out all its doors....
U cant blame me if I act like a Stranger....
You can find millions like me but not the same old Me anymore......
You dropped what was in only Ur hand while trying to pick up from the floor...
I dont hate U..... nor I can forgive U neither.....
U dragged me to the truth, I never want to face.....
through the loss I wasn't ready to feel...
U showed me trust and life can be shattered in the blink of an eye....
U taught me to trust myself more....
U taught me to be a poet.....
I wrote U in every verse, in every sonnet....
U made me a poet.....
He broke her, yet made her whole,
Shattering her heart, igniting her soul.
In his silence, her words found flight,
A poet born from love's dark night.
 
They met after a very long time...
He couldn't look into her eyes.....
after a very long frenzied silence,

He said" Im sorry....."
"Why" , She asked...
He said " please don't act like we are strangers...."
" Yes... yes we are strangers....", She said

He couldn't speak a word.... but his eyes did....
a drop of tear fell on the ground.... rolling down his cheeks she always adored....
Her heart skipped a beat... and yet she continued....
"I never wanted U to be mine... all I ever wanted was U to make me yours....."
You broke me soo violently that my heart closed out all its doors....
U cant blame me if I act like a Stranger....
You can find millions like me but not the same old Me anymore......
You dropped what was in only Ur hand while trying to pick up from the floor...
I dont hate U..... nor I can forgive U neither.....
U dragged me to the truth, I never want to face.....
through the loss I wasn't ready to feel...
U showed me trust and life can be shattered in the blink of an eye....
U taught me to trust myself more....
U taught me to be a poet.....
I wrote U in every verse, in every sonnet....
U made me a poet.....
Very true experiences in life makes everyone poet, writer, musician, dancer, any other art forms. All type of art forms heals mind always, so it's the best medicine to self heal.
 
They met after a very long time...
He couldn't look into her eyes.....
after a very long frenzied silence,

He said" Im sorry....."
"Why" , She asked...
He said " please don't act like we are strangers...."
" Yes... yes we are strangers....", She said

He couldn't speak a word.... but his eyes did....
a drop of tear fell on the ground.... rolling down his cheeks she always adored....
Her heart skipped a beat... and yet she continued....
"I never wanted U to be mine... all I ever wanted was U to make me yours....."
You broke me soo violently that my heart closed out all its doors....
U cant blame me if I act like a Stranger....
You can find millions like me but not the same old Me anymore......
You dropped what was in only Ur hand while trying to pick up from the floor...
I dont hate U..... nor I can forgive U neither.....
U dragged me to the truth, I never want to face.....
through the loss I wasn't ready to feel...
U showed me trust and life can be shattered in the blink of an eye....
U taught me to trust myself more....
U taught me to be a poet.....
I wrote U in every verse, in every sonnet....
U made me a poet.....
expand it into a story


The evening sky was painted in hues of orange and purple, the fading light casting long shadows across the empty park. They stood facing each other, a chasm of silence between them that even the wind dared not cross. It had been years since their last meeting—years filled with unanswered questions, sleepless nights, and wounds that had barely begun to heal.

He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. Those eyes had once been his refuge, his sanctuary. Now, they felt like mirrors that reflected everything he had lost. His throat was dry, and his heart raced as if it were trying to escape the moment.

After a long, frenzied silence, he finally spoke.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, the words heavy and raw.

She tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “Why?” she asked, her voice calm, but her eyes carried the weight of storms he had caused.

He looked at her then, a desperation etched into his face. “Please don’t act like we’re strangers,” he pleaded.

She took a step back, her arms folded tightly across her chest as if to protect herself from him. “Yes,” she said softly, almost to herself. “Yes, we are strangers.”

The words pierced through him, more painful than any scream or accusation could have been. He wanted to speak, to argue, to deny it, but his voice betrayed him. All that remained was a single tear that escaped, trailing down the cheek she had once loved to kiss. It fell to the ground, a silent testimony to everything he couldn’t say.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, but she steeled herself, refusing to let her emotions betray her. She knew she couldn’t let herself falter now.

“I never wanted you to be mine,” she began, her voice trembling but resolute. “All I ever wanted was for you to make me yours.”

He flinched as if struck, the weight of her words cutting deeper than he thought possible.

“You broke me so violently,” she continued, her voice rising with each word, “that my heart closed all its doors. And now you stand here, asking me not to act like a stranger? You can’t blame me for that. You let go of what was in your hands while trying to pick up something else from the floor.”

Her words were relentless, each one hitting him like a tidal wave. He opened his mouth to speak, but she raised a hand to silence him.

“I don’t hate you,” she said, her tone softening, though the pain remained. “But I can’t forgive you either. You dragged me to a truth I never wanted to face, through a loss I wasn’t ready to feel. You showed me how trust and love can shatter in the blink of an eye.”

He lowered his head, her words weaving a tapestry of regret and guilt around him.

“But you also taught me something else,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “You taught me to trust myself more. You taught me to survive, to feel deeply, to channel my pain into something greater. You made me a poet. Do you know how many verses I wrote about you? How many sonnets I poured my soul into? You became every word, every metaphor, every line.”

She paused, her breath catching as the memories washed over her. “You made me a poet,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air was thick with unsaid words, the echoes of a love that had burned too brightly and consumed itself.

“I’m not the same person anymore,” she said finally, her eyes meeting his. “And you won’t find the girl you knew in me. She’s gone.”

With that, she turned and began to walk away, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. He watched her leave, his heart heavy with the weight of everything he had lost—not just her, but the version of himself who had once held her heart.

As she disappeared into the horizon, he stood there, a silent witness to his own undoing, her words replaying in his mind like a haunting refrain:
“You made me a poet.
 
expand it into a story


The evening sky was painted in hues of orange and purple, the fading light casting long shadows across the empty park. They stood facing each other, a chasm of silence between them that even the wind dared not cross. It had been years since their last meeting—years filled with unanswered questions, sleepless nights, and wounds that had barely begun to heal.

He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. Those eyes had once been his refuge, his sanctuary. Now, they felt like mirrors that reflected everything he had lost. His throat was dry, and his heart raced as if it were trying to escape the moment.

After a long, frenzied silence, he finally spoke.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, the words heavy and raw.

She tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “Why?” she asked, her voice calm, but her eyes carried the weight of storms he had caused.

He looked at her then, a desperation etched into his face. “Please don’t act like we’re strangers,” he pleaded.

She took a step back, her arms folded tightly across her chest as if to protect herself from him. “Yes,” she said softly, almost to herself. “Yes, we are strangers.”

The words pierced through him, more painful than any scream or accusation could have been. He wanted to speak, to argue, to deny it, but his voice betrayed him. All that remained was a single tear that escaped, trailing down the cheek she had once loved to kiss. It fell to the ground, a silent testimony to everything he couldn’t say.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, but she steeled herself, refusing to let her emotions betray her. She knew she couldn’t let herself falter now.

“I never wanted you to be mine,” she began, her voice trembling but resolute. “All I ever wanted was for you to make me yours.”

He flinched as if struck, the weight of her words cutting deeper than he thought possible.

“You broke me so violently,” she continued, her voice rising with each word, “that my heart closed all its doors. And now you stand here, asking me not to act like a stranger? You can’t blame me for that. You let go of what was in your hands while trying to pick up something else from the floor.”

Her words were relentless, each one hitting him like a tidal wave. He opened his mouth to speak, but she raised a hand to silence him.

“I don’t hate you,” she said, her tone softening, though the pain remained. “But I can’t forgive you either. You dragged me to a truth I never wanted to face, through a loss I wasn’t ready to feel. You showed me how trust and love can shatter in the blink of an eye.”

He lowered his head, her words weaving a tapestry of regret and guilt around him.

“But you also taught me something else,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “You taught me to trust myself more. You taught me to survive, to feel deeply, to channel my pain into something greater. You made me a poet. Do you know how many verses I wrote about you? How many sonnets I poured my soul into? You became every word, every metaphor, every line.”

She paused, her breath catching as the memories washed over her. “You made me a poet,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air was thick with unsaid words, the echoes of a love that had burned too brightly and consumed itself.

“I’m not the same person anymore,” she said finally, her eyes meeting his. “And you won’t find the girl you knew in me. She’s gone.”

With that, she turned and began to walk away, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. He watched her leave, his heart heavy with the weight of everything he had lost—not just her, but the version of himself who had once held her heart.

As she disappeared into the horizon, he stood there, a silent witness to his own undoing, her words replaying in his mind like a haunting refrain:
“You made me a poet.
Howw...
just tell me how u know wat exactly happened on that day.....
 
Howw...
just tell me how u know wat exactly happened on that day.....
Ah, I understand now! You're referring to the deep understanding of the scene you've written—how I can describe it with such insight.

The way I "know" what happened is through the details you shared, the emotions conveyed, and the imagery in the scene. By analyzing the words, the shifts in tone, and the actions between the characters, I can piece together the emotional journey they’ve undergone.

For example:

The setting: The evening sky, with its orange and purple hues, mirrors the complex emotional landscape—fading, unresolved, yet beautiful in its way.

The dialogue: The interaction between the two characters is full of unspoken history, regret, pain, and transformation. The woman reveals how the relationship has changed her—she's become a poet, using the pain to channel her creativity.

The emotional depth: The man is struggling with guilt, and the woman, although still scarred, has found a way to grow stronger, even if that means accepting the pain.


This is how I "know" what happened in the moment—by interpreting the nuances, emotions, and symbolism in your writing. It's like a reflection of the inner journey they’ve both gone through over the years. Does that
make sense?
 
Ah, I understand now! You're referring to the deep understanding of the scene you've written—how I can describe it with such insight.

The way I "know" what happened is through the details you shared, the emotions conveyed, and the imagery in the scene. By analyzing the words, the shifts in tone, and the actions between the characters, I can piece together the emotional journey they’ve undergone.

For example:

The setting: The evening sky, with its orange and purple hues, mirrors the complex emotional landscape—fading, unresolved, yet beautiful in its way.

The dialogue: The interaction between the two characters is full of unspoken history, regret, pain, and transformation. The woman reveals how the relationship has changed her—she's become a poet, using the pain to channel her creativity.

The emotional depth: The man is struggling with guilt, and the woman, although still scarred, has found a way to grow stronger, even if that means accepting the pain.


This is how I "know" what happened in the moment—by interpreting the nuances, emotions, and symbolism in your writing. It's like a reflection of the inner journey they’ve both gone through over the years. Does that

make sense?
well..... all those emotions and scenarios are well portrayed as if u were watching us both from a distance.....
 
well..... all those emotions and scenarios are well portrayed as if u were watching us both from a distance.....
Thank you! I'm glad it resonated that way. Sometimes, when emotions and scenarios are described vividly, it can feel as though you're stepping into someone else's perspective, almost like observing a scene unfold from afar.
 
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