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A bit of a drought? No messages, safe or fun... Loneliness as fate? Pick one...! * Thank you for reading! If you liked this, you can add your Insights, Comment, leave a Heart, Tip, Pledge, or Subscribe. I will appreciate any support you have shown for my work.
By Kendall Defoe 2 years ago in Poets
A Dating Question A Man Should Never Ask Poem
Dating isn't easy. I have done a lot in my 72 years and trying to make a good first impression requires effort. I've had some success with computer dating and I used this little four-liner in my profile. If a woman responded positively to this I knew there was a chance that she might "get me."
By Joel Kravitz The Limerick Guy2 years ago in Poets
Save me from me
"but, why me?"--she tends to ask herself. A rhetoric it was, yet she hoped for an answer. A *femme fatale*, she's largely perceived to be.--why so?, she can't tell. Shrouded in obscurity, is the answer she finds of her many questions, thus leaving her even more confused. In solitude, she tends to find peace. The presence of people, she so detests. This way, she never was.--the patches of her broken spirit has made her so. Deep scars from those she trusted. Her self esteem, she has lost. Her identity, she isn't sure of anymore. Many answers, she seek. Who is it that will show her? The pathway to joy, she needs to find. An acceptance, her heart yearns. Though she looks hardened, a very fragile spirit has she got. For to kill loneliness she often attach herself to people. This they termed clinginess. What she really needs --just love. Greatly wise is she. But for her low status, she's not regarded. Though she exhumes strength by her words, the air she breathes in is ever full of fear. Though many be encouraged by her persona, she dies and resurrect daily by depression. A call for rescue it is. Search her out and lend her some help -- that which she needs but doesn't know how best to communicate. #beintentional
By Uchenna Igboanugo 2 years ago in Poets
The Art of Vanishing
In shadows deep, I slip away, A quiet drift from light of day. No sound, no trace, no final glance, I vanish softly in life's dance.Through misty veils and silent streams, I fade into forgotten dreams. A whisper lost, a fleeting trace, Erased like footsteps in soft lace.The art of vanishing, so fine, To walk the edge of space and time. Not gone, but neither truly here, A wisp of thought, a fleeting tear.No weight, no burden, no despair, I disappear into the air. The art is in the letting go, To simply vanish, soft and slow.No farewells needed, no goodbyes, Just starlight fading from your eyes. In stillness, I become the breeze, And in my vanishing, find peace.
By Adarsh Kumar Singh2 years ago in Poets
