Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
At the end of the road I found love My soulmate, the joy I’d been longing for One woman whom I’ve come to dream of I lift up my eyes to the heavens above
By José Juan Gutierrez 10 months ago in Poets
If tomorrow starts without me and my days on Earth are through I hope my time remaining is spent making love to you ❤️ If tomorrow’s sun is hiding
By 𝐑𝐌𝐒10 months ago in Poets
Moments of life shedding light on the way, Serenely reflecting, life in full swoon, Memories illuminate darkest days. Longing for connection, loving, and play,
By Thomas Durbin10 months ago in Poets
i am a dotted line, you tore me at the perforation, weary is the wolf inside me bound by chains, i have loved you past the point of perspiration.
By Daniel K10 months ago in Poets
wherever I go I see your face, if I told you that you'd think I lied, you haunt the walls of every place. / in the hallways of my mind, you tend to pace,
You told me once we were unsuitable, called me up to twist that knife, I guess time proved your words immutable. * you lured me in, that’s not refutable,
of all life's tests, you're the one I failed, my room still smells like your favorite flowers, please don't tell me our ship has sailed
I've learned that nothing is what it seems When dreams dreamt, meet the hard concrete Was it real or just a dream * When happiness left me filled with grief
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden10 months ago in Poets
As I try to move forward, you haunt my dreams You knock, and I am an obliging host Every apparition pulls at my seams - Your phantom is never as real as he seems
By Grace G.10 months ago in Poets
In shadows cast by dreams that softly fade, The traces of your laughter haunt my mind, A hush in the night, where love once played.
By Tim Carmichael10 months ago in Poets
Your box of Barbies sit on the shelf A keepsake of sorts, a conquest, a shrine Good sir, are you proud of yourself? ~~~~
By Mikayla Rose10 months ago in Poets
The Tree That Remembered Faces The tree waited for me, its bark carved with faces, a hundred silent watchers pressed into the wood.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 10 months ago in Poets
