inspirational
Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.
After the Parade
At the parade, the protest rages in solidarity with strangers. At the parade, the hope surges for the possibility of change.
Jennifer ChristiansenPublished about 2 hours ago in Poets
My Tea Corner
A little child I became Not being allowed To drink coffee in quantity I used to have The panic attack forced me to change
Mirrelle BeneffittePublished about 8 hours ago in Poets
Resurrection
On bended knees, I bow my head My hands holding the ground beneath In an attempt to slow My tipping and spinning existence
Drawn in Pencil
I draw myself in pencil; Delicately, Uncertainly, Faintly. * A false portrait made to please the critics; Fearfully, Cowardly,
J. R. LowePublished a day ago in Poets
Sprouting in Silence
Author's Note: The following is the third poem in my self-challenge to write a poem a day. Click here for the last poem in this challenge. Thank you for reading and wish me luck to keep the pace ❤ Note: This poem is of a deeply personal nature only and is not intended to be taken as a promotion for or against ANY movement, whether political or sociological.
Lena BorondiaPublished a day ago in Poets
Meat Suit
My daughter has become my son And I still find him loads of fun Although it’s fine to speculate This world of ours has too much hate
Krissy AbbottPublished a day ago in PoetsBank of Those Days
Bank of "those" days When you are depressed or anxious -unable to leave the house, or the couch, or to think of anything but the depression - it can be unbearably hard.
Munawar HussainPublished a day ago in PoetsThe Elf of Dragonshire
Shaneise, a little birdie told me of your b-day There is so much good stuff for her to say You're the only one shes ever connected
Zeddicus ZanePublished a day ago in Poetsto be all, demand none
who desecrated the purity of Love by attaching expectations what abuse ignited the flames of betrayal, selfishness, and greed
Majique MiMiPublished a day ago in PoetsYour Name Is Not To Blame
I never liked my name (For that, my parents are to blame) But something new it became When the Hispanics heard it
Emily DickersonPublished a day ago in PoetsErase and Rewrite
I looked back on some photos I used to hate I still don’t love my clothes, they’re not all that great But the reasons to despise the past are melting
Emily DickersonPublished a day ago in Poets
Always
Another day another infinite hour. Locked away in my own desires. While many are free to come and go. Anxiety takes a future I yet not own.
Alvah AngelrunePublished a day ago in Poets
