They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
She got flowers today Today of all day when she prepared a proper home cooked meal And decided to clean He chose to still be mean
By Shellon Williams4 years ago in Poets
“April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.” — T.S. Eliot The Waste Land
By Lana Broussard4 years ago in Poets
The great gray bulk of your grief and the tear you’ve lost at sea- you’ve lost your sheen, minerals leached. Huge eye brimming
By Sophie Colette4 years ago in Poets
My thoughts lie in this forest Cold and alone I wish I could go home Stop running from these thoughts Hop in a taxi and drive far away
By Soul4 years ago in Poets
Rare or Nonexistent? Pure, unconditional love. Amid a man and a woman. Absent of raging anger. Absent of words like knives.
By Molly Angie Moustafa 4 years ago in Poets
It is hard to find, Uncharted waters ageless, There will not be more. Gems, gold, and money, It became complicated, Give me real treasure.
By Desiree Wetz4 years ago in Poets
people are hiding from the rain their faces are all wet umbrellas dancing in the rain gusty winds tear at them to the southeast where the land is bare
By Sun Bee4 years ago in Poets
Bitter, blistering cold, dead of winter Needles and wax, transpiration Full and lush, flourishing pine Snow covered branches dust the ground
By Raine Fielder4 years ago in Poets
Every scar that you've acquired, someone will trace and admire. So come at me with all your desires. I believe fate is a liar.
By Camilla Richter4 years ago in Poets
dark raven covers me with his shadows I transform I sink into my fatal heart’s stone Seeping into your milky moon well I keep forgetting my true story
By Melissa Ingoldsby4 years ago in Poets
Love is a bird that flies away Leaving me with nothing but a broken heart to say The memories we shared, now just a dream
By Harshit Verma4 years ago in Poets
If walls could talk, they would also cry at the thought of everything they’ve seen, they would tell you the unfairness was unreal, the losses, the cries, the broken dreams.
By thesleeplesswriter4 years ago in Poets
