Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
We relate sis you & I Toughened up that’s what we did…. Went through struggles made us cry Look at us that’s what we needed….
By Haychie_Artist3 years ago in Poets
Working hard Is all I know Even though don’t like to show You can see It on their face…. Miserable Is all I know Bunch of yes man I say no
Through the darkness, a flicker appeared that gentle presence drawing me near, With every step, my heart raced anew This time I must catch you
By Karun 3 years ago in Poets
Why do you deny yourself peace of mind? Why do you deny yourself love ? Why do you deny yourself joy ? Why do you deny yourself happiness ?
By Angie the poet3 years ago in Poets
Paripalaya Raghunatha Paripalaya Raghunatha Harinama Smaranambulu Virulaura Raghunatha Paripalaya Raghunatha Paripalaya Raghunatha
By GOKUL3 years ago in Poets
The storms seem to shutter, souls, the boy is locked in his mind to suffer. He lost his abusive father as a kid, no one left
By Jeff koli3 years ago in Poets
I found a love for me Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me
Dear Alien, this is a rainbow Full of colour; a spectrum of light You're never guaranteed to see one It’s elusive, evading our sight
By Sian N. Clutton3 years ago in Poets
Love is as comfortable as slipping into a well-worn, cozy sweater on a crisp autumn day. Love is as gentle as a breeze caressing a field of wildflowers, tenderly brushing each delicate petal
By R.S. Colorado 3 years ago in Poets
i am in need of a genie, who can grant me a few wishes the things that i cannot buy with endless riches ask me. “what do you need?”
By Kiesha’s Diary3 years ago in Poets
The ripples of each life Slowly lick at the tapestry of fate But mine have become waves Which rip it in their wake I have lived like a storm
By Vicious Avarice3 years ago in Poets
My alien friend of mine The only place I must show is a place to dine In a home where wisdom aged like fine wine Where the forests meet the lake and smell like pine
By Matthew Mccahey3 years ago in Poets
