They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
The day arrived soon, Her silence broke Her heart busted and she continued to choke; *************************************************************
By Maryam Batool2 years ago in Poets
Tangled elbows and tender knees Tastes of loves sweet aftermath Our kisses burn and only lead To smoke and whitewashed ash
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 years ago in Poets
The morning comes with whispered breath, A chill that stirs the earth from rest, And in the hush of dawn’s embrace, A silver sheen paints nature’s face.
By Christopher Gomes2 years ago in Poets
You convince yourself all communication is conflict, so conversations become arguments in a split second, and you pull out crazy insults with no hesitation.
By Kay Husnick2 years ago in Poets
Mother do you hear me Mother why won't you listen to me I'm making this for you But it feels like you don't want me to I know we've had it rough
By martin Thomsen2 years ago in Poets
Motherhood has lost its meaning Every child in the world suffers It was said: The mother is a loss for the children For each of them she humiliated
By Kisama Riyo 2 years ago in Poets
Still entering that flame I knew the wormwood a long time ago Wormwood was not by beating She knew sadness in her time nor
You will help me spread your grace, O wind And I say that you are ambitious to the heights Your high determination will take you to the top
Our world was indestructible. I rested secure in the knowledge That we could survive anything; Together … forever… Spinning around the sun daily
By Andrew C McDonald2 years ago in Poets
The first frost whispers in the quiet dawn, A silver breath on branches, lightly drawn. It paints the world in delicate disguise,
Introduction Another personal poem, inspired by that image, something that happened on Vocal this morning, and these lines from Bob Dylan's "Joey" that perfectly describes me:
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Poets
May the ink drown in tears, When the pen touches paper, it sears. Had you stayed on the ground, Why would I search the clouds all around?
By khadija 2 years ago in Poets
