- Offline Thinker
- December 13, 2020
How About My Feelings? | By Shay Zarifa | Offline Thinker
It is good to be happy, To laugh with my family, It is also good to be sad, To cry
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- Sabi Thapa
- December 11, 2020
Alleviation | Poem by Sabi Thapa | Offline Thinker
Written by Sabi Thapa Drizzling rain on a sunny day Inebriated grey clouds swimming afloat Deceit to the eyes alleviation
- Offline Thinker
- December 11, 2020
Life is Short | Sattar Samad | Offline Thinker
Our life has changed our shadow was snatched, Everywhere all where everything was snatched, No one asks me about my
- Offline Thinker
- December 10, 2020
The man in dark well | Zameer Wafa
The man in dark well The man in the dark well, Enjoys neither dill nor thrill. He has nothing but
- Offline Thinker
- December 9, 2020
I Love You | Poetry by 8 year’s Shari Sattar
(R) for Red, Red for a rose. Rose for plants, Plants for me. Me for you, I love
- Offline Thinker
- December 8, 2020
तिमी, म अनि चिता | कविः सुजन अधिकारी
तिमी, म अनि चिता तिमी मलाई हरियो नोट देउ म तिमीलाई निलो भोट दिन्छु, मेरो भोको छोरा सोध्दैन त्यो खाना
- Offline Thinker
- December 8, 2020
O’ Mother | Poetry by Zameer wafa
O’ Mother She installs you in her womb for nine, What you demand, she gives, to get you fine. At
- Offline Thinker
- December 7, 2020
Have I ever | Poetry by Islam Abdain
Poetry by Islam Abdain Reply to the complaint from a soul. Have I ever told you how much you mean
- Offline Thinker
- December 6, 2020
Mistake Happens | Written by Essa Naseer
Life is too short you know, Mistake happens and there is nothing to show. But, if you take this on
- Offline Thinker
- December 6, 2020
That’s My Hen | Writer: Mahjabeen
I have a little hen, I love my hen. Its name is Roben, I like my hen. It has two
- Offline Thinker
- December 5, 2020
A Gloomy Reacher | Poetry | Offline Thinker
Zubair is a gloomy light, He has the confidence to fight. He is as beautiful as a flower, He
- Sabi Thapa
- December 5, 2020
Letter to My Future Self | Poetry by Sabi Thapa
Letter to My Future Self | Poetry by Sabi Thapa It feels weird writing to you imagining the cluttered thoughts