Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
The moon glows, gentle on the quiet street, Soft light weaving gold on tangled sheets, We lie side by side, but worlds apart,
By Ameliaabout a year ago in Poets
I saw you once, and time stood still, A glance, a smile—I felt the thrill. The world grew quiet, soft and wide, With you, my heart had found its guide.
There's a sense of understanding when it comes to letting go Life gets a little less demanding when you no longer ebb and flow
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
Pay close attention to the subtle cues learn how to read a room And if it seems no one's missing you then you know what to do
I used to count the freckles on your shoulder like stars that promised something bigger than time. We weren’t saving seconds—
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
The Train That Took Him Away The train that took him away howled at the dawn like a curse steam biting the wind, metal grinding the dirt from its path.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
I don't believe in magic anymore, Been tricked too many times before. You say that I don’t trust you anymore, You’re right, you lied too many times before.
By Calvin Londonabout a year ago in Poets
We gather not with placards or parades, but with pens, syllables, and spirit— in the ink-soaked silence of notebooks, where protest bleeds not in fire,
By Jacky Kapadiaabout a year ago in Poets
***if you are in immediate danger, call 911. for confidential support and resources, you may contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1.800.799.7233(SAFE)***
By ⸘jason alan‽about a year ago in Poets
Has anyone pretended to have a boyfriend/girlfriend from Canada? No? That was just a thing on TV? Oh, well. Here's a poem inspired by that concept.
By Sarah Loydabout a year ago in Poets
By Nadeem Shah I. Wilt You loved me the way a fire loves paper— brief, wild, and ending in smoke. I built a home out of your warmth
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Poets
He Cut Off My Long Hair He cut off my long hair said it was too wild, too free said men stared, and he was tired of sharing me
