heartbreak
They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Whispers of Love
I found you in quiet moments, Where words dared not intrude; In glances that felt like dawn, In silence soft and crude. I traced the constellations Your eyes carried each night; The universe seemed smaller When our hands held so tight. We learned that love is patient, A garden slow to bloom, It thrives in storms and stillness, It grows in sun and gloom. You taught me hearts are fragile, But stronger than we know; That love is not just passion, But where two souls can grow. Time will steal our shadows, Days will lose their light; But love’s quiet whispers linger, Through darkest, longest night. So let the world keep turning, Let seasons come and flee; For love’s soft echoes anchor The you inside of me. ---
By Huzaifa Writerabout a year ago in Poets
“The Sweater You Knitted”. AI-Generated.
“The Sweater You Knitted” (A Poem Between Son and Mom) Son (to Mom): In the silence of winter, when the cold winds blew, I wrapped myself tight… in the sweater from you. Threads of your fingers, loops of your care, Every stitch whispered, “My love’s always there.” You made it at night, when the world was asleep, While I chased my dreams, yours ran deep. A patch of blue, a knot of grey— You tucked your prayers in yarn that day. Mom (to Son): My boy, I remember your little cold hands, The way you’d shiver when frost kissed the land. So I sat by the fire with needles and thread, And wove all my love in brown, gold, and red. You wore it the first day you walked to school, The sleeves too long, but you felt so cool. I watched from the window, heart wrapped tight, In the sweater I gave, and your brave little flight. Son: Now I am grown, and seasons have spun, But still, I return when the day is done. Your sweater’s worn, the colors have bled, But your warmth remains in every thread. Mom: I’ll knit you a new one, if time allows, Though my fingers are slower than they were once now. But love doesn’t age—it only grows strong, And sweaters made with love last lifelong. Together: Between these threads of wool and time, Are hugs unspoken, soft and kind. A bond not broken by distance or years— A sweater of love… sewn with joyful tears.
By Ali Asad Ullahabout a year ago in Poets
