heartbreak
They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Close to home Darlings' Writer
For the profound writer of sweethearts, the world is a material painted with the tones of connections — red with enthusiasm, blue with despairing, and gold with momentary bliss. Their pen isn't simply an instrument; an extension conveys the heaviness of implicit words, the delight of shared chuckling, and the throb of partition. Through their verse, they catch the unspeakable: the ripple of a heart when love first day breaks, the consuming force of a yearning look, and the tranquil distress of an adoration unreturned.
By Md. Didarul Alam2 years ago in Poets
Frost's Grasp
Dear, whomever this letter reaches, In the desperation, last ditched notion of legacy, I wrote it. I want to remember, to hold onto the feeling of the quiet cold of the world awakening and the bite across my bare pale flesh as the sun shines, though its power is bereft and left us. I sit and ponder existence, purchase and agency as my skin becomes taut and blemished by the pierce of the frozen, meeting the warmth that still pumps through my body. The frost has taken its grip at Jack Frost’s behest. When you channel power toward a cause—one you have no reason to belong to—do you truly have agency? Especially when Jack’s bitter hand rests on your shoulder, promising a better future than the past you’ve endured.
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
