Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
I was a thorn upon the breeze, A brittle voice, a rustling sneeze Of sorrow’s breath, of fire and drought— But Love came softly, burned me out.
By Muhammad Abdullahabout a year ago in Poets
--- Life is tough, the roads are steep, Some dreams may falter, and shadows creep. But in your heart, a fire burns bright,
By Huzaifa Writerabout a year ago in Poets
I didn’t set out to write poetry. I wasn’t trying to be profound or poetic or even brave. I was just trying to survive. There were days when the ache in my chest was too big to speak out loud. Days when the grief, the shame, the fear, or the sheer heaviness of living felt like more than I could carry. And in those moments, I did the only thing that made sense:
By Irfan Aliabout a year ago in Poets
In emerald veils and ruby flame, Above the clouds, the Quetzal came— A sovereign bird in sacred flight, Cloaked in dawn’s transcendent light.
A tilt of her chin, a questing beg, Stillness, the patience of a saint, Her chest vibrating lustily, Her quiet voice roaring at low decibels.
By Colleen Millsteed about a year ago in Poets
Not sure I ever mentioned it — no, i can't ... but I once missed you so much — say it because ... that I prayed for the sun to delay —
By Sam Eliza Greenabout a year ago in Poets
She didn’t like my brown body She actually liked other white girls who like country music She didn’t like my brown body rants
By Ariana GonBonabout a year ago in Poets
I am a ball of fire I am bursting I am seething I am a heat stroke ready to hit . I will not love you as you need me to
I ain't changing if you ain't changing for me All I asked for was a little more of your time and attention You couldn't deliver
By L.I.Eabout a year ago in Poets
As I watch him walk away The scream inside me claws Threatening to explode The things I would never say I love you, I need you,
By Kristen Barenthalerabout a year ago in Poets
Always taught I'm less than told I can't when I think I can too emotional when I'd cry told 'why bother?' when I'd try glared hisses 'quiet' when I'd speak
By Judey Kalchik about a year ago in Poets
Your hair falls softly against my neck— I don’t say how it hushes the chaos. Your head rests gently on my chest— I don’t say how I breathe easier beneath you.
By Annie Edwards about a year ago in Poets
