Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Licking at the facade Worshiping a nameless god Only to realize All efforts will be forgot Break your back all you want
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
I'm over this! I swear, I'm so over it. About five seconds from starting a little fit. It's like everyone is waiting for my combustion, the fall of a curtain.
By J. K. Anderson3 years ago in Poets
Garden's Peace In the garden's arms, where flowers sway, Peaceful whispers greet the day. Butterflies dance, in the morning light,
By Made Jake3 years ago in Poets
In the heart of ancient woods, where sunlight softly gleams, Whispers of the forest sing in tranquil, timeless streams. Through the canopy they wander, gentle leaves that sway,
In the heart of Vienna, an old mansion stood covered in vines, holding a mysterious tale. People said there was a lost song hidden inside, written by a composer named Maestro Valtor. His music was said to be magical, touching hearts deeply. But as years passed, the song vanished, leaving only whispers behind.
Rain in the city has always comforted me. Thunderstorms are music to my ears. Amongst all the chaos, there is rain to wash away all the sorrows.
By Angel Adagio3 years ago in Poets
I scream for answers In this world of cancers The ticking of the clock never ceases Like my hamster dropping endless feces
By Scott Christenson🌴3 years ago in Poets
It’s a waste of time to worry all the time You got to keep something positive on your mind to have a peace of mind Just smile even when you have no reason to smile
By L.I.E3 years ago in Poets
The balance of the heart and mind. In the dance of light and dark, we find, A chance to mend, to keep on spinning. With every dawn, a new beginning,
By Pam Zee3 years ago in Poets
In the heart of darkness, secrets lie, Beyond the stars, where dreams defy. Whispers of ancient tales unfold, In shadows deep, where legends hold.
You are not a sin. Now, that line rumbles through my spine, decaying old scripts that were woven into my being. I have held hands with the devil and fell in love with God's angels.
By g. whiles3 years ago in Poets
It's 2024, but I'm not feeling like celebrating. I just don't get what's there to celebrate — the proof that a more year slipped from your hands like sand, or you getting close to oldage and your death?
By Sheena Dawar3 years ago in Poets
