Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
“I love you” And “I’m sorry” Those were not things I said often And they should have been But that which Rarely escaped my lips
By Rae Fairchild (MRB)about a year ago in Poets
words like petals fall one by one from my mouth, delicately aspiring to inspire love, even while a flurry of jabs may be best in this case,
By Camille Ora-Nicoleabout a year ago in Poets
Forever Here: In the hush between each heartbeat’s call, Where shadows lean and starlights fall, There blooms a truth both soft and clear:
By Luciousabout a year ago in Poets
I bask in sun-long days, skin sizzling, shimmering with sweat, wearing shields made of lotions that smell like distant memories of the tropics,
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets
I knew you with merely a glance, Not with words or a fierce romance. Nor your soft touch calling me near-- Just seeing each other so clear.
By Adora Hooperabout a year ago in Poets
As the memories pull me into their warm embrace, I begin to wonder if it's really his face. Who do I see when I imagine that day,
By Kristen Barenthalerabout a year ago in Poets
I remember the corner— not the room, not the walls, but the one sharp edge I always found with my skin. No matter how big the space,
By Dagmar Goeschickabout a year ago in Poets
I walked into the womb of earth, a child of doubt and fear, Worn by the wounds of ruthless men, their words too sharp, too near.
By Muhammad Abdullahabout a year ago in Poets
I have something to say; will you listen? Without fear, criticism and judgment Will you hold your bias and let me speak? Even when I falter in my speech?
By Mingling with the Moon about a year ago in Poets
She brings me sunshine with her smile challenges me, coaxes my very best— even when I resist. - She is fierce, intelligent, emotionally mature,
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
She Wrote Poems Instead of Crying She never liked crying. It wasn’t that she couldn’t cry—she could. She had, once or twice, when she was younger. But the tears always made her feel hollow afterward, as if the pain had drained out of her eyes and left nothing but silence.
By Hamidabout a year ago in Poets
Another almost this time we both knew it was doomed from the start me in California; you, two states apart still my foolish heart fluttered.
By Semaraabout a year ago in Poets
