Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Under the Moonlight Sky I see the stars, so bright tonight, Can you hear the whispers of the wind? They tell stories of the ancient light,
By ayesha nadeem2 years ago in Poets
The poets understand and share life and beauty, so listen to the poets, understand the poets and quote the poets, a friend.
By Farhat Naseem2 years ago in Poets
Scrambling through my ecstasies, I stumbled across the depths of blue, On my way to my deathbed, I and Death had a rendezvous.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
i loathe the curves of my hips that were stolen from a man. i was created to be poured into so i know the hole in my chest
By Sara 2 years ago in Poets
the green in your eyes is the green of emeralds. the white of your skin is the white of porcelain. the pink of your lips
In Ayodhya’s ancient halls they stood, Rama, the righteous prince, and Lakshmana, bold. Brothers by blood, yet more than kin, Their bond unbreakable, their loyalty akin.
By Allwyn Roman Waghela2 years ago in Poets
everyman left in misunderstanding; heard every word i speak, yell, and scream. this everyman never intended to appreciate it.
By ⸘jason alan‽2 years ago in Poets
Poetry is a powerful healer. It improves mood and gives comfort.1415 It's valuable for everyone. From writing at home to therapy, its benefits are clear.1415
By Local Man2 years ago in Poets
I still remember the smell.. of his aftershave, the shampoo he used in his hair I still remember his handsome smile His perfect teeth,
By Astride Evans2 years ago in Poets
I tried and tried, yet failed anew, Failure, both enemy and friend in view. But only foes before me stood, Ego's grip, misfortune's hood.
By Alan Schilling2 years ago in Poets
Everyone marvels at your beauty and grandeur How you span the gap with such grace They wonder at your strength That is Until the day you collapse
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
In the still of night, whispers arise, Beneath the moon's soft, silvery guise. Shadows dance in the pale moonlight, Lost in the echoes of the night.
By Byron Loderick2 years ago in Poets
