They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Water ceremony this morning Too cold? Or is it? I'm mourning What is going on in Minnesota? Assassination of innocents! Firing squad like! Wounding twice
By Denise E Lindquist8 months ago in Poets
The Ship of Fools No stars above. Just ash and smoke. The mast is cracked. The hull half broke. They sail through oil-slick, blackened tide,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 8 months ago in Poets
1. Begin by assuming the pain is hypothetical. It happens to others...distant others. People you were told made bad choices. People you don’t know. People you don’t have to imagine.
By Cadma8 months ago in Poets
The Sly One, The alley cat man He walks where trouble likes to stay, In shadows, corners, out the way. A smile that hides what hands have done,
The storm didn’t leave politely. It ripped the screen door loose, knocked over my favorite plant, and stole the power for hours.
By Milan Milic8 months ago in Poets
Putins War Bloody war, why do they want it? Men in high rooms with dry lips, speak of glory while boys fall. They never hear the last breath.
A Depressed Man What kind of man will live today, a replica of yesterday? To stay in bed and smell like stale cheese, to not walk, but slide around on his knees.
He was late. The soft bed surrounding didn't do much to ease my worries. He was late, again. The bed I was laying in was going to be empty another day.
By 143Rosey8 months ago in Poets
Dirty House with Dirty Curtains Dust hangs thick in the air, not moving even when I breathe. The kettle sulks on the ring that’s never clean,
it's a wilderness in here big dreams, obvious obsessions shepherded fears in flight from hope i run into the arms of tomorrow
By ⸘jason alan‽8 months ago in Poets
The Keeper of Nightmares In the stifled hush where no light survives, roams. the Keeper of Nightmares, where horror thrives.
7am on a Saturday morning By Ross E F Lombardi . You know what would be Far nicer than making comments on Fartbook and Twatter at 7am on a Saturday morning?
By Ross E Fortune Lombardi8 months ago in Poets
