Poems for fika
May 5, 2025
We gave you Fika, a soul made of light,
A laugh that could shatter the silence of night.
He danced through this life with fire in his stride,
A spirit so fearless, with nothing to hide.
He cracked jokes like thunder, turned sorrow to song,
Made burdens feel brief, no matter how long.
He gave without counting, expecting no praise,
A giver of warmth on the coldest of days.
May 6, 2025
She was the flame in midnight rooms,
A voice that shattered shadowed tombs.
Chains broke when her whisper came
She called on Heaven, and fire knew her name.
She prayed like storms fierce, unafraid,
A watchtower soul, forever stayed.
She stood where many dared not go,
And brought back life from undertow.
May 7, 2025
She waited high on rusted steel,
Not to love but watch you kneel.
Her eyes, unblinking, tracked your fall,
A quiet queen above it all.
She did not chase, nor did she plead,
She fed upon a deeper need.
To stand unmoved as he unraveled,
While paths to life grew dark and gravelled.
May 8, 2025
He rose with the sun and packed his soul,
Box by box, goal by goal.
Five long hours behind the wheel,
Every turn a prayer, every mile surreal.
He sweat blood under the weight of goodbye,
But not once did he pause to cry.
For what’s a little pain, a little delay,
When your heart is finally on its way?
May 9, 2025
He was laughter once
A spark in the crowd,
A stag who danced with storms
And made the broken feel proud.
Thirteen years under vows and roof,
Not of joy, but of silent proof
That love can die without a sound,
While duty still walks around.
May 10, 2025
Life threw storms with ruthless aim,
But he stood unmoved, without shame.
Till his last breath, he fought the tide,
Rising, stumbling, still with pride.
He bore the weight, the fire, the fight,
And smiled through the darkest night.
Hope in his voice, though hollow within,
He wore a mask, but never gave in.
May 11, 2025
The owl worked for years with patient spite,
Each step concealed, each move just right.
No warmth to fake, no love to feign
Just quiet loathing, tightly reined.
She cooked it up, a flawless scheme,
To end his light, fulfill her dream.
And when he fell no trace, no clue
She flew away like morning dew.
No guilt, no tie, no price to pay
Just silence as she slipped away.
May 13, 2025
He said, “Everything’s under control,”
A mantra meant to calm the soul.
With steady hands, composed and sure,
He built a life he’d not endure.
The signs were there obscure, subdued
A glance, a pause, a shifting mood.
But we, too wrapped in daily pace,
Missed all the cracks beneath his face.
May 13, 2025
His voice still lingers like smoke in the air,
A whisper of grief too heavy to bear.
“They’ll suffer,” she said, with venom so deep
And now, every breath is a struggle to keep.
We never saw hatred behind her smile,
Never thought silence could grow so vile.
What did we do? We search through the past,
But the answers elude us, fading too fast.
May 14, 2025
Because you are here, and he is gone
a life cut short, a light withdrawn.
You cried your tales in silence loud,
wove storms from sorrow, fierce and proud.
You cast him in a cruel disguise,
a villain framed by careful lies.
Denied him voice, denied him peace,
you bound his truth and gave no lease.
May 15, 2025
Some souls are born with light in hand,
A quiet grace, a love so grand.
They bloom like spring in every room,
And lift the hearts they help exhume.
They are the reason joy takes flight,
The calm that breaks a stormy night.
Their presence heals, their laughter stays
A blessing wrapped in human shape.
May 15, 2025
He opened the door with a trembling hand,
To a shadow he swore he’d never withstand.
They wore a smile stitched tight with lies,
A serpent’s grace in a lover’s guise.
They spoke of change, of pain, of light,
Of demons battled in the lonely night.
And though the truth rang false and thin,
His heart was weak, he let them in.
May 25, 2025
They used him, not just time or hands,
But dreams he built like castle sands.
They drained his light with hollow praise,
Then vanished in his final days.
He gave like rivers to the drought,
A silent strength, a soul devout.
He held their storms, their night, their pain,
And never once asked back again.
May 17, 2025
They say the lens reveals the soul
A mirror framed, complete and whole.
But sometimes light conceals the ache,
And every smile’s a small heartbreak.
One photograph, so clean, composed,
Yet missed the war the heart imposed.
A second before the shutter clicked,
One soul stood still, heart worn and sick.
They didn’t want it, not the frame, not the act
But chose the peace, ignored the fact.
May 27, 2025
She greets with charm, but masks a snare,
A queen in shadowed, deadly lair.
She does not love, she seeks to own,
To sit on thrones not hers alone.
She whispers poison in his ear,
Inflates his pride, then feeds his fear.
She builds him up to bring him low,
And feasts upon his weakened soul.