Another strike after another stroke Surpassing every asshole veering Left Surprising every asshole going broke Hunger anguish following wealthy theft
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Poets
The love within us. L is for the "laughter" we experienced together on the road. O is for the "optimism" you offered me every day.
By Nelo2 years ago in Poets
Nestled in a large cave you suffered less Every season except for fall’s last day As the wind turned colder with winter’s dress
Whispers of the Invisible: A Poem of Silent Echoes In the corners of bustling streets, She glides, unseen, a whisper Among the shouts of hurried feet,
By inspirational poems 2 years ago in Poets
Veiled Whispers: The Enigma of the Invisible Girl In realms unseen, a silent war, A girl confronts what lies in store. A heavy heart, a weary soul,
I found out at twenty-three that we were alone Living our short lives without any chaperone Learning, if so inclined, that the world is unkind
For the streets have claimed me as one of its own. To get out is the goal. For these stinky and sticky clothes that cover my dirty skin is not for me. I will try everything in my power to not fall victim of it. To not become one more story is the thing I want. Poem after story, we hear and say so much about it. Have you lived it? The storm of thoughts that take over your being. For some, is just so much easier to beg and plead for money that you'll never know where it'll go. Food? Medicine? Habits? I'll never understand why and how someone can reach this level. But, no one will understand my reasons of being like this either. Hypocrite, I know. Hypocrisy is keeping these thoughts flowing and the mind going. This is what I like to call: "my own habits". My version of "Being in control". Pathetic, I know. This idea of working hard is just a blur to me. I desire to be in doors with a fan or AC full blast all over the house and have some kind of calm and peace for one day. I don't want to think about: "Where do I go next?" or should I say WE? Yes, We.
By Moon2 years ago in Poets
In sign language's beauty, hearts find a way, To connect, to cherish, to brighten each day. Hands flutter like birds in a boundless sky,
By Ren2 years ago in Poets
In buildings grand, where pipes run deep, A silent threat, a slumbering creep. Water leaks, unseen, unheard, Can cause a flood, a costly word.
By Matt Sharon2 years ago in Poets
Never want to see your face again - Evermore was just a sick joke Whispered among your friends and Loved ones who stood by as
By Amanda Starks2 years ago in Poets
I used to marinate myself in emotion Now I sit here numb It’s not that bad really Just strange Feels like all has drained from my brain
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
In the garden of life, so lush and grand, A delicate bloom held in God's own hand, The child of man, a precious flower, A symbol of love, in every hour.
By Ahsan Ahmad2 years ago in Poets
