They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
A Lingering Memory In a sunlit meadow where laughter was good, We danced in the fields, our hearts understood The gentle breeze whispered secrets so sweet,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
A Broken Glass A fragment of its former greatness. An incomplete piece of a masterpiece That can never see the light of day again. A shadow of its former glory. A hollow version of what it used to be. A dangerous fellow, shattered but Never to be underestimated. A piece without purpose, Without goal, without drive. A piece that carries the burden Of unfulfilled dreams, hopes, and ideas. A piece that tells the story Of forgotten glory. In the end, It’s just another incomplete dream In a world filled with more broken dreams Than complete ones.
By Nifemiabout a year ago in Poets
A Poem Just To You I wrote you this poem just for you, my dear. For my soldier out there, I will always hold near. When you wear that brave uniform, strong and proud,
It was the beginning of the end In a breath he said Make it so And thus it was The archon looked upon all creation And in the sweep of hand
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
You don’t like me You only like the fiction in your mind You don’t know me You only show me the likable version of you Show me your monster
It’s an effervescent antidepressant When you can’t pay your rent Money whores stripping us of everything As we cling to our last life line to reality
Because the road is often rough And the rewards hard-won, The traveller grows weary By the setting of the sun. ^^^^^^ Because the way is littered
By Marie McGrathabout a year ago in Poets
I'm on fire. A forest fire; a quiet, rolling roar. Warning sign: this is where I'm at. You want to cross the line, go ahead.
By Sara Wynnabout a year ago in Poets
silence always precedes — everything from the creation of everything to your last bowel movement a rumble in the sack
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
Don’t want to draw inspiration from the hurt Don’t want to write from my pain And keep repeating the same thang So over the negative feeling
By L.I.Eabout a year ago in Poets
We're all going to hell in a handbasket and you're paying the bills said the official aficionado to the fucking moron eating the pills
The male soul....!! In life, they always fight with words and thoughts and finally bury everything with a smile...!! They hide their sadness and think that they will wake up somewhere and finally laugh...!!
By Testabout a year ago in Poets
