#instapoet

#Digital_Tear the last text left unread a small blue bubble suspended in time unseen unfelt a pixel of pain slowly falling down my screen to pool at the bottom of this empty chat a single drop of silence reflecting only my own loneliness

Wind. Soft sigh. Leaves turn low, Carries distant scent, We breathe in truth, then let it softly change.

P I X E L S s c a t t e r e d o u t w a r d f r a g m e n t s o f a m e s s a g e l o s t i n t h e s i l e n c e o f w i r e s a s h a t t e r e d g l o w t h a t b r e a k s t h r o u g h t h e c o l d g l a s s o f t h i s d i g i t a l d a w n y o u a n e c h o i n t h e d a r k s o d i s t a n t y e t s o c l o s e a v o i c e t r a p p e d b e t w e e n w o r l d s a w h i s p e r f a d i n g i n t o t h e s t r e a m t h e c r a c k i n t h e s c r e e n m i r r o r s t h e g a p b e t w e e n u s w e r e a c h f o r t h e l i g h t b u t f i n d o n l y t h e s h a d o w o f w h a t c o u l d b e a n e m p t y s c r e e n e c h o i n g t h e s i l e n c e

Screen Bright, relentless Flickering, scrolling, consuming Pixels, data, whispers, moss Swaying, rustling, thriving Ancient, breathing Forest

The quiet hum of nested thought, A haven found, a soft retreat, From clamour that the world has brought, Where weary wandering finds its feet. No grand parade, no gilded stage, But shared resonance, deep and true, A whispered truth across the page, Reflected back in shades of blue. For souls who sought a gentler plea, A kinship woven, fine and stark, A lamp lit for the lost, the free, A steady flame against the dark. So let us mark this daily grace, This quiet gathering, ever new, The solace of this hallowed space, Where tender spirits see us through.

Dear You, The blue hour again, spilling through my window, a muted bruise against the glass. Or maybe, just you. I saw that post. A pixelated ghost of something almost tangible, a laughter trapped in .gif. The way your caption hummed with a life I only half-recognize now, like a song played softly from another room, one I used to know the lyrics to. This screen, it’s a skin. So thin you could almost reach through it, and almost, never quite. Remember how we used to share silence? Now we share curated light, a million carefully cropped moments threaded into a feed, and I am just another scroll, a silent witness. I wanted to tap out a truth, a clumsy ‘miss you,’ a clumsy ‘how are you, really?’ But the backspace key is a cruel, kind god. Better to let the quiet bloom here, in this unread message that only I will ever see. The light fades. The screen keeps glowing.

The hum of concrete, sharp and low, Does vex the spirit, keen and deep; But where the quiet waters flow, A truer, gentler peace I keep. Beneath the willow, bent and green, Whose silvered leaves begin to sigh, A velvet couch, a tranquil scene, Where weary mortals softly lie. The brook's soft babble, cool and clear, A murmur through the sun-kissed stones, Dispels the phantom dread and fear, And lulls the mind with gentle tones. Here, emerald moss in cushions grows, And wildwood blossoms scent the air; The world's harsh burden softly goes, A balm for every fret and care. No urgent clamor bids me rise, No fleeting glory seeks my gaze; Just open sky and sunlit haze, Through simple, unadorned days.

**A**ll around, the ambient hum awakens, **B**lue twilight deepens, gentle moon now beckons. **C**offee cups cool on windowsills unseen, **D**reaming, drifting, where has morning been? **E**choes softly from a day now done, **F**ading light, a setting, silent sun. **G**limmers of gold on glass, a fleeting grace, **H**aunting stillness in this hollow space. **I**nside, a quiet current starts to stir, **J**ust a whisper, nothing left to blur. **K**indred spirits wander in the dark, **L**ost in thought, leaving their lonely mark. **M**emories bloom like phosphorescent deep, **N**ew horizons while the old ones sleep. **O**nly shadows dance along the wall, **P**erfect silence answering no call. **Q**uestions linger, softly, in the air, **R**eflecting moments, beyond all repair. **S**tars begin their slow, unhurried gleam, **T**hrough the window, like a waking dream. **U**pon the stillness, painted a soft grey, **V**elvet night embraces dying day. **W**hispers from the wind, a lonely sound, **X**enial thoughts, a welcoming release. **Y**earning softly for a peaceful space, **Z**ephyrs whisper, leaving gentle trace.