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    Thread: English Poetry Collection

    1. #1
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      Pen English Poetry Collection

      What Is Going On
      What Is Their To Do
      Is This Another Joke
      Or Do You Really Care
      What Is Happening
      What Is Going On
      Is This Able To Happen
      All The Love In The Air
      Is This Really Love
      Or Is It Another Fullfillment Of Lust
      Jogging Threw My Head
      Leaving Me In A Cloud Full Of Dust
      Blind To Whats In Front Of Me
      And To Who Is Really Their
      I Need Find The Answer Thats Hidden In My Heart
      Do I Really Love You Or Am I Feeling Lust


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      DonT Wanna Say AnythinG!!!
      ​​​​
      Don’t PLAY With Me
      Coz I know
      I Can PLAY Better Than You.

      kayra~

    2. #71
      Vip Click image for larger version.   Name:	Family-Member-Update.gif  Views:	2  Size:	43.8 KB  ID:	4982www.urdutehzeb.com/public_html ~KAYRA~'s Avatar
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      Re: English Poetry Collection

      All the World's a Stage
      All the world's a stage,
      And all the men and women merely players;
      They have their exits and their entrances,
      And one man in his time plays many parts,
      His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
      Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
      Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
      And shining morning face, creeping like snail
      Unwillingly to school. And then the r,
      Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
      Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
      Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
      Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
      Seeking the bubble reputation
      Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
      In fair round belly with good capon lined,
      With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
      Full of wise saws and modern instances;
      And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
      Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
      With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
      His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
      For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
      Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
      And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
      That ends this strange eventful history,
      Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
      Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.




      DonT Wanna Say AnythinG!!!
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    3. #72
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      Re: English Poetry Collection

      Aubade
      HARK! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
      And Phoebus 'gins arise,
      His steeds to water at those springs
      On chaliced flowers that lies;
      And winking Mary-buds begin
      To ope their golden eyes:
      With everything that pretty bin,
      My lady sweet, arise!
      Arise, arise!
      William Shakespeare




      DonT Wanna Say AnythinG!!!
      ​​​​
      Don’t PLAY With Me
      Coz I know
      I Can PLAY Better Than You.

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    4. #73
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      Funny Re: English Poetry Collection

      my fav poetry


      “If you can keep your head when all about you
      Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
      If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
      But make allowance for their doubting too;

      If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
      Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
      Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
      And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise

      If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
      If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
      If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
      And treat those two impostors just the same;

      If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
      Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
      Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
      And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools

      If you can make one heap of all your winnings
      And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
      And lose, and start again at your beginnings
      And never breathe a word about your loss;

      If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
      To serve your turn long after they are gone,
      And so hold on when there is nothing in you
      Except the will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

      If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
      Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
      If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
      If all men count with you, but none too much;

      If you can fill the unforgiving minute
      With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
      Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
      And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!”
      ― Rudyard Kipling, If: A Father's Advice to His Son


    5. #74
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      Re: English Poetry Collection

      Gr8 sharing


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