They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
My favorite broadway play was Phantom Of The Opera. My parents would collect posters of this dramatic and gothic musical. On any given day, you might find me belting out parts of this sone. I have wanted to write something that was an inspiration from the main song. Here is my Villanelle for it.
By Daphsam7 months ago in Poets
Liquid courage from my can of bliss slows down my thoughts, Heightened hippocampus from my cannabis reveals mysteries, Accepted that a friend was against me, and it had me distraught,
By Asea B Moore7 months ago in Poets
In the stormy night, a cup in hand I hold, A mocha frappuccino, tempting fate, The moment life's trajectory was told.
By Becky Allred7 months ago in Poets
Hear hear, let the poor and downtrodden sing The song of their captivity to poverty Full of woe for what tomorrow will bring
By Paul Stewart7 months ago in Poets
I did not want to reach this part, To watch you turn your gaze away, Where nothing soothes my fractured heart. * You sought to see me at the start,
By Hannah Moore7 months ago in Poets
In the quiet dawning of a chronic morn, When shadows linger and hope seems torn, A body, weary, in the weight of strife,
By JNemezys7 months ago in Poets
you will wake up and close your eyes again just because you can. you will wonder if your heart is beating because you barely
By Sara 7 months ago in Poets
Lingering on each moment, On what could have been said, Or unsaid. If it were meant to be, It would have been. But if it couldn’t have been,
By E.B. Mahoney7 months ago in Poets
I understand the pain Like your soul concentrated traveling through your veins. But brother, let me explain I too loved her
By G. A. Botero7 months ago in Poets
My father was always late I’d sit sadly sulking on the stairs, and trying not to shed a tear He was always worth the wait
By Alexis Dean Jr.7 months ago in Poets
My one true home is far away I escaped that place as I cried, “Home’s not always where you stay”… • I dream of where I used to play,
We stand by mistletoe… Should we kiss or go? Should we hold on to tradition, that was created long before? Which keeps Christmas spirit alive and living today..
By AL. K.7 months ago in Poets