art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Insalata Nicoise
Walk down the cobblestone road Until you reach a little piazza. There you'll find a sweet old man In a cafè across from a chiesa.
Tota MundusPublished 7 years ago in PoetsEmpress of Eternal Love
Splitting inside, Going insane Testing the lies, living in pain Alone in the woods, hear me now Calling to you, without a sound
Chris GingerichPublished 7 years ago in PoetsLucid
I am lost with no direction in life Better settle down now and find myself a wife I hope that she don’t get home too early
Tyler PeerPublished 7 years ago in PoetsOf Broken Traditions
You’ll be a mother one day, she tells me You may not want it, but you will There’s some growing to be done, you see And then a household you will fill
Destiny SmithPublished 7 years ago in PoetsWake Up
red lights, green lights plain faces that empty full places those uneventful summer nights bleak words shared with no one you truly know
Angel JaramilloPublished 7 years ago in PoetsWhy I Paint Rainbows
I live in a world Where everything is grey Dreary Like iron clouds Whose only purpose Is to rain down Broken sheets of misery upon me
A. R. AmbrosiPublished 7 years ago in PoetsWhere and When
Where When Where can it be When can it be Where you are When you are Where will it be When will it be Where can you go
Daniel BrizuelaPublished 7 years ago in PoetsPanic Attacks are Hard to Describe
It is spring, flowers blooming and all. I am outstretched - absorbing every bit of sun my skin can manage to grab on to There are ladybugs and bees, and I am afraid of neither - its been so long since I've gotten stung.
Ana RodriguezPublished 7 years ago in PoetsToo Beautiful
I remember when I had skin. I used to pride myself on my shell's beauty. I was always adorned with the best gems this earth has ever created, cinched in the finest materials, and the object of beauty that brought designers visions to life. I was flawless.
Shanique WaltersPublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Maker
The child with the imagination choosesThe child, to read, choosesThe child, with wings of fancy flying about, sings and dances ‘til night’s endThe child knows what truth is beyond all truth
Althea LucePublished 7 years ago in PoetsEyes
Eyes, like galaxies, swimming with a color, So unnatural, so full of life, soulful, Beautiful, powerful, like destroyers, dark,
galaxus imprumPublished 7 years ago in PoetsUndeserving
Undeserving I am of you You've always demonstrated love that is true I tried to have my cake and eat it too Chance after chance you gave me
Garvin RayePublished 7 years ago in Poets