A poem about dogs Dogs are a great thing Spending time together I can't think of anything Better in stormy weather Some dogs do not like The loud booms And owners too I think Want to hide in their rooms You comfort the dog The dog comforts you You pet the dog calmly The dog protects too Side by side As the clouds clear Both you and the dog Together facing your fears ©Schizology

Schizology

Blazing Shadows (Rhyming Version) Clouds made of suns are again around me, I was trying to be relaxed, they don’t let me be. They make their visit when I least expect ’em, Burn my skin with their ruthless flame. I don’t like these clouds that are circling around, And turning into a cyclone to drag me down. I’m losing my vision, my breaths are falling short. To continue this fight, I of’n lack my forte. Pretty distractions can't shield my head, No umbrella for the dread. Morning comes, and they're still there, With flames so hot, too much to bear. ’Twas after so many days I was feeling alright, Turned out I flunked to escape, maybe in’t I’m a neophyte. ©Saurav Banerjee

Saurav Banerjee

Flipping through the pages of a book is like embarking on a journey of endless discovery. Each page turns into a new adventure, unlocking timeless wisdom and boundless imagination, reminding us that every moment holds the potential for extraordinary growth and transformation. ©twisha ray

twisha ray

A poem about dogs Dogs are a great thing Spending time together I can't think of anything Better in stormy weather Some dogs do not like The loud booms And owners too I think Want to hide in their rooms You comfort the dog The dog comforts you You pet the dog calmly The dog protects too Side by side As the clouds clear Both you and the dog Together facing your fears ©Schizology

Schizology

Blazing Shadows (Rhyming Version) Clouds made of suns are again around me, I was trying to be relaxed, they don’t let me be. They make their visit when I least expect ’em, Burn my skin with their ruthless flame. I don’t like these clouds that are circling around, And turning into a cyclone to drag me down. I’m losing my vision, my breaths are falling short. To continue this fight, I of’n lack my forte. Pretty distractions can't shield my head, No umbrella for the dread. Morning comes, and they're still there, With flames so hot, too much to bear. ’Twas after so many days I was feeling alright, Turned out I flunked to escape, maybe in’t I’m a neophyte. ©Saurav Banerjee

Saurav Banerjee

Flipping through the pages of a book is like embarking on a journey of endless discovery. Each page turns into a new adventure, unlocking timeless wisdom and boundless imagination, reminding us that every moment holds the potential for extraordinary growth and transformation. ©twisha ray

twisha ray