love poems
Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
Your Sweetness
It Hurts How can your smile hurt so much, your sweet words feel so cruel? How can your blue eyes cut so deep into a heart that was long split in two?
Amaya ArevaloPublished 6 years ago in PoetsSo Many Reasons
So Many Reasons Strange how the thought of you compares little to the nearness of you and how my daydreams of you unfold sweeter
Amaya ArevaloPublished 6 years ago in PoetsLove Is Real
LOVE is REAL. It feels so long since I came undone... Ever since that day I’ve been so far from the sun. But today as the light beams through the blinds.
Steven BaldryPublished 6 years ago in PoetsA Few for You
I want to slip through the cracks of the world and go to where the sun is. I want to disappear. I need you here. I want to chase the stars each night so they can give me my wishes, one by one, until they go outta sight.
Michele HastingsPublished 6 years ago in PoetsMy Love
A love that is delivered to you through your mailbox and waiting faithfully for you at Gate A after your absence. Found in fingerprints left on typewriters and fountain pens, scribbled on the scraps of paper scattered across a distracted living room.
Katherine MallinsonPublished 6 years ago in PoetsThe B in Bee
I never thought I would be on this end Like a twisted fairytale with a tail way too bent When did the rejected start rejecting?
Harydo NeonPublished 6 years ago in PoetsReasons
Reasons To say things don't happen for a reason is just a way of saying that everything we believe is all based on a lie.
Jazmin AguilarPublished 6 years ago in PoetsThe Sitting Song
Winter rents the colour blue Spring belongs in the chains you sew Summer is lazy Fall has drifted out of reach your seasons are plenty gathered in harvest
terry simmonsPublished 6 years ago in PoetsWeak
Weak. You make me weak. Not a day goes by with you that's bleak. I don't know why you make me this happy. You make me weak.
Michele HastingsPublished 6 years ago in PoetsSilence to the World, a Symphony to Him
A symphony of laughter, yelling, and drunkard conversations swell around the bar. The dim light flickers. The mugs are slammed down as a guffaw encapsulates the room. The author grabs his pen, dipped in ebony ink. A new symphony begins. The piano starts, a single chord breathing as he writes. His sentences long, mellifluous and as full as the sighing chords. The keys hasten as does his hand, running faster, his words blurry, lost beneath the music, his soul lacing every letter. A violin slowly creeps in as he dips his pen, quickly returning to the filling page. The pen dancing as the piano sings. The sweat falling as the violin rises.
You
You've got something special Why won't you let me appreciate it? You're more than amazing, please let me sulk in it. Your eyes shine so bright that
Michele HastingsPublished 6 years ago in PoetsThose Brown Eyes
There are times when I look into your eyes I feel as though I am seeing deep into your soul These beautiful milk chocolate eyes; they're not always this color.
Deborah PortilloPublished 6 years ago in Poets