They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
I do not feel depressed I do not feel depressed I do not feel depressed cry I am fine, I swear it. I'm a valuable member of society
By Hillery D. Keefer4 years ago in Poets
--------------------------------- The shore is swampy, full of reeds. Roots deep in the peat. The touch of stones and cold water is caressing.
By Maximilian G. Wolf4 years ago in Poets
Kashmir, the land of lofty peaks, Kashmir, where heaven on earth meets, Kashmir, where the sky kisses the land, Kashmir, where nature's beauty is so grand.
By Shams Ul Qammar4 years ago in Poets
The sun shines brightly in the sky, A golden orb up high, It warms the earth with its rays, And brightens up our days. It casts a warm and gentle light,
By sedhu sundar4 years ago in Poets
She opens up her suitcase and it’s loaded to the brim, She simply doesn’t have the time to squeeze more baggage in , Shes looking at her hold-all and all memories start to flood in but the words are trapped inside and her eyes start stream ,
By Dawn Earnshaw4 years ago in Poets
There's nothing I want more than to have One last look at his face before I take my leave. To stare at Its beauty, In peace,
By Nani4 years ago in Poets
In the depths of my heart, Lies a sad love story Of a love that was never meant to be A tale of heartache and misery We met on a sunny day
By Karun 4 years ago in Poets
Her heart was heavy like a stone, weighed down by a love unknown. He came into her life one day and stole her heart without delay.
During the first year of World War I, while German U-boats swarmed the Atlantic and ground fighting intensified in Europe, William Butler Yeats articulated one side of the debate in “On Being Asked for a War Poem” (1915):
By usman09174 years ago in Poets
No 1. Proud peacocks prance, Parading pretty plumage. Pine needles paint Picturesque panoramas. Patiently, pensive poets
By zain Ul Abedeen4 years ago in Poets
They say, "Look into their eyes and you will see anger and hatred", But I only see fear and darkness, They say, "Look at their houses which
By Touseef Ahmed4 years ago in Poets
His nose tickles my cheek and my neck as he pulls me closer. There is music playing. Something that has played a million times, but with his fingers grabbing my belt loops swaying my hips to the rhythm of his breath in my ear I don’t mind.
By Hannah Moore4 years ago in Poets
