Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.
It begins in the smallest way, your hand brushing mine as though it’s done so a thousand times before. There’s a quiet knowing in that touch,
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
[Verse] ]You crack a joke, but it cuts like a knife, Laughter that hides all the pain in our life. You point your finger, and the room goes cold,
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warriorabout a year ago in Poets
[Verse 1] They say you’ve gotta love yourself first Build your worth from the inside out But I’ve tried that road, and it only hurts
The exhaustive nature of constant talking is often underestimated. A truly wise person often adopts a "few words" approach, recognizing it as their best defense.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
Sail Away Beneath a silver moon I stand, The tide is whispering my name. The night is calm and full of stars, And nothing here will stay the same.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Life is so unfair. People's opinions may bring you down. When you win, they become jealous. When you lose, people say you didn't try.
By Gloria Penelopeabout a year ago in Poets
Her hair is where the story learns its manners. Long as a night that doesn’t apologize, smooth as a promise she intends to keep,
By Natalee Chandabout a year ago in Poets
Sometimes you leave me speechless Have me overthinking What are you thinking Oh wait you have feelings Thanks for reminding me
By L.I.Eabout a year ago in Poets
What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up? It's a Question that We Ask at Different Points in People's Lives... Or Some Variation of That Question.
By H.E. Dr. Cody Dakota Wooten, COIE, DFM, DHMabout a year ago in Poets
The Old Library Dust rises like ghosts from the shelves, and the air tastes of ink and forgotten voices. I walk slowly between towers of books,
Egypt The sun rises slow above the Nile, gold spilling across the water, casting shadows that stretch and yawn over palm trees and mud-brick homes.
As I separate from this world, the last tear has been wept, Falling deeper into a slumber, praying that I forget An image so horrid, to be placed away on a shelf,
By Ezekiel Xanderabout a year ago in Poets
