fact or fiction

Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about what makes a good poem and the poetry rules that were made to be broken.

Echoes of Myself
under bed, scary no, with voices in my head terrorising me * Thanks for reading! Author's Notes: For the Haunted Echoes challenge. As ever, I took a very personal approach. Nothing scarier, in reality, than my own head.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
Where Lava Meets The Sea
Beneath a sky where Pele breathes, And molten rivers kiss the seas, A man arrives with heart ablaze, To spark a flame that never strays.
By Tony Martelloabout a year ago in Poets
The DROP
The world leans forward, slow and inevitable— As if some unseen hand runs a thumb along the horizon, smearing golden residue into gray,
By Stefano D'angelloabout a year ago in Poets
The Mask of Goodness
We post our mercy, polished bright, Animals saved in fleeting light. Likes like applause, gentle and small, Yet hungry children wander, unseen by all.
By Life Hopesabout a year ago in Poets
When Love Isn't Enough
Forced love is always easily overlooked, readily replaced, and even instantly forgotten, leaving you with only loneliness from beginning to end.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
Killing Thoughts. Top Story - September 2025.
Killing Thoughts Killing thoughts crawl the edges of the mind. Silent, patient, they wait. They do not shout, they do not strike at once.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
The Fragile Soul
The Fragile Soul The soul is fragile, delicate as a leaf in wind, it bends, it twists, it breaks without warning, and the world keeps moving
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Our Love Belongs to a Parallel Universe.
I used to believe love was bound to this world alone—to the narrow passage of time, the frail borders of memory, and the fragile lives we lead. But when you left, when the echo of your footsteps vanished into silence, I began to wonder if this world was truly the only stage where love could exist.
By Muhammad Ilyasabout a year ago in Poets
Guardian of the Vale
Watching from on high Everyone going by Seeing all that is done Overlooking none The good and the bad The happy and the sad
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Poets
Haunted Playground
Haunted Playground The swings move alone in the midnight playground, moonlight glinting on cold chains. Children’s laughter drifts through the dark,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
The Black Death
The Black Death The Black Death came silently, creeping through streets and fields, through doors left open, through markets crowded with life.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Surfing With My Lover
Surfing With My Lover We walk across the warm sand The boards under our arms Salt air clings to our skin And the sea calls us closer
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets