They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
My shattered dreams lie at my feet, A million pieces on the floor, The life I had imagined, Will never be the same anymore.
By Muhammad Mohib4 years ago in Poets
Dear Life, I hope this letter finds you well, As for me, it's hard to tell. I've been on this journey for quite some time,
By Aadithyan4 years ago in Poets
Celery, Green and Crisp Celery, oh celery, green and crisp, A vegetable often overlooked, dismissed, Yet packed with nutrition, a powerhouse indeed,
By Andrew4 years ago in Poets
After the verdict, The media outside the court asked her how she was feeling; "Vindicated." She replied, tears in her eyes,
By TheSpinstress 4 years ago in Poets
My sweet, sweet Keda, In my aching chest, my heart wreaks devastating havoc on my body. The pressure divides me into bits of intoxicating, melancholy pieces, and I’m left behind in a star-struck state of stupor and lovelorn tumor-like agony.
By Melissa Ingoldsby4 years ago in Poets
Dear Steve I cried when I heard you died Not even a year since being a groom Your bride shook at the viewing, I watched in silence
By Antoinette L Brey4 years ago in Poets
He died at fourteen. That statement alone sounds like a tragedy. When I add that the aforementioned he is my dog, I am greeted with at least he had a good life.
By S.R.B4 years ago in Poets
We were meant to be Just as we were destined to end This love was not to be forever It was not written in the tomes of eternity
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warrior4 years ago in Poets
Her eyes are as green as the Rhine River swirling around the Stone she languishes on While warming her soul And beckoning you with the promises
Dear Husband, I found a part of me that was locked away Hidden deep in the depths of my water, there she laid Resurrected with a kiss from my soul
By A. P. Cooper4 years ago in Poets
the moon, reflected in the rear-vision mirror, stretches & twists over the valley. although she was born in a phase of dismemberment, she refuses to be
By Stevi-Lee Alver4 years ago in Poets
To the archaeologist that may dig up this grave someday, These ashes, In their pastel tin Wrapped with silhouettes of lighthouses,
By S. C. Almanzar4 years ago in Poets
