Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
I walk the roads where silence speak, The moon it watches, soft and meek. Dreams fall like rains but never stay, They come, they go, then fade away.
By Shaheerabout a year ago in Poets
I told you how I didn't like prom as a concept Too expensive, too much drama, only for one night where you go home and never where those clothes again because you most likely grow out of them
By Donny Foleyabout a year ago in Poets
By Atif Jamal In the silence of your eyes, I find A world that speaks beyond the mind. No need for words, no written art,
By Atif jamal about a year ago in Poets
Kissed by him, Missed by him, Felt by him, Dreamt by him, Loved by him, No longer his butterfly.
By Angel Aguilarabout a year ago in Poets
Yesterday Lingers Yesterday lingers in the dust on my shelves, in the crack of the pavement where I tripped once, long ago,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Money talks when voices can’t Money speaks where blood runs thin, buys the lies, sells out the skin. Silence falls, but cash won’t wait,
Until the moon goes dark until the stars rain down the sun exhausts its spark and drops its fiery crown my heart will call for you
By Heather Holmesabout a year ago in Poets
I love to romanticize my surroundings. The birds are chirping, the sun is shining the Jazz music is floating through the air in the park,
By Bria Lamonicaabout a year ago in Poets
"Naive at best." "Childish at worst." "Or maybe just plain stupid." It mattered little who said the words. They stung, and his head droop-ed.
By Mack D. Amesabout a year ago in Poets
A veil of softness, A drape of shimmers, A glint of dust, Showering trust, Through the shades of blinds, over a paradise of mine,
By Parvathi Jabout a year ago in Poets
I wrote with the ink of pain, not fame, But no applause ever whispered my name. A quiet corner, a weary screen, Dreams danced, but stayed unseen.
By Mahmood Afridiabout a year ago in Poets
a mist out of reach a touch still unfelt a delay in speech scents that have not been smelled a desire unspoken the longing to be touched
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
