Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
I can't keep going around I can't keep bringing us down Baby I'm sorry I'm the one you found I try to just turn around But there's so much sound within my crown
By CotardDelusionz2 years ago in Poets
I trace your name in whispers, love, though lips have never formed it yet. You are the dream that lingers on, a light my heart won’t soon forget.
By Gideon James2 years ago in Poets
You're the peanut butter to my jelly, Smooth and sweet, never too smelly. I’m the soft bread, you’re my spread, Together, we’re a love well-bred.
By Tale Weaver2 years ago in Poets
Ya amar, bury me across your ribs— where wind writes, my love in the dust of your silence. Your absence is a sama without stars.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH2 years ago in Poets
I left a prayer on my bedside table, Didn’t know what to say, just hoped He was able To read between the lines of the words I left out.
By Marvelous Michael2 years ago in Poets
-*- One step at a time, planning every move; carefully mending and no intent to reprove. -*- There is so much pain because of the gash,
By Alex Torres2 years ago in Poets
There you are, by my side when my world falls apart there you are, tucked inside of the whole of my heart There you are, holding tight
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 years ago in Poets
Time moves in waves, just like the tide… one moment crashing against the shore, the next pulled back into the deep. * I can feel it in my bones—
Poem of the week Whisper Of The River By Adnan RJ Whispers of the River The echoes of old days still whisper In the river’s flow in the cold wind’s touch
By Adnan Rasheed2 years ago in Poets
To the tide, to the wind, to the hands that might find me— I place this letter inside a bottle, a wish folded in ink. It is the twenty-fifth of February, twenty twenty-five,
The wrong embrace You were a blade hidden in silk, A quiet ache behind a kiss. Your touch, a whisper of thorns, Promising comfort, delivering hurt.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 years ago in Poets
Why do you still treat me like a fool? How many calls went unanswered, Phone ringing, echoing in an empty room. A silent stage where you played absent,
