They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Rooms Without Voices Some rooms hold, the weight of absence, heavier than anything, I could ever carry alone. Chairs remain still,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 10 months ago in Poets
I often play a game of hide and seek with my heart I will turn my back Count to seemingly infinity When I open my eyes it is ii where to be found
By G.10 months ago in Poets
You were a nice person You had difficult times while you grew up Many enemies, people you thought were your enemies, but they weren’t
By Fatemeh Azimi10 months ago in Poets
I write you in the shade the mirror saves for after-hours— The color stores call cherry, the kind my mouth calls courage. The page is a small white room.
By Milan Milic10 months ago in Poets
I gather you walking down the hall, your hands reaching for doors that have moved. I gather your voice calling names that do not belong to me,
By Tim Carmichael10 months ago in Poets
A villanelle by Eliara Rae Silence never pays where words should flow For you no longer yearn for me like I do you, Yet I ache for those days long ago.
By Eliara Rae10 months ago in Poets
We struck a match together The inaugural burst of sizzling flame blazed bright Orange light flickering across our faces Dancing reflections of mirrored flame in our eyes
By Amos Glade10 months ago in Poets
Beneath a vast sky, Where sand meets sea, The cosmic theater! A meteor shower Rained light And we counted Seventeen Shooting
By C. Rommial Butler10 months ago in Poets
Focus changed Mind too busy daydreaming Here and in lala land Everyday About him A guy who will never love me A dangerous place to be
By L.I.E10 months ago in Poets
How Do I Get Top Story Please? I pour my heart out, line after line, hoping one day Vocal will look my way and finally say
Returning to the scene of the crime I’d be lying if I said it didn’t matter This is the place that separated The before from the after
By Christa Leigh10 months ago in Poets
I found a shoebox in the dark behind a winter coat. Its cardboard spine is still whispering like a paper-throated throat. Inside: thin flags of afternoons we thought would never fade—
