“Victory won’t come to me unless I go to it.” This quote emphasizes the need to be active in pursuing our dreams. To take each stepping-stone
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff7 months ago in Poets
“Keep trying no matter how hard it seems. It will get easier.” Life can seem like a nightmare sometimes with its many challenges,
I dipped a quill into the inkwell of my soul Drawing forth bits and pieces of a fractured whole Splotched them liberally upon a page
By Andrew C McDonald7 months ago in Poets
It’s so easy to stand up for yourself When you finally have the strength To do so From someone who brought you down It takes time
By Jennifer lindquist7 months ago in Poets
I walk all alone on the darkest of nights; I look for the answers, I search for the light. I search on for hours, the question so clear,
By Edward Val7 months ago in Poets
Some people are there to remind you to turn around. In everyone's life, there will be moments when change is necessary. It doesn't happen suddenly; there are always signs. It’s just that we often don’t want to admit it.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing7 months ago in Poets
She only stopped hitting when it made her hands hurt. Burying the joy, a body piled in the dirt. - All those windows watched and
By Reece Beckett7 months ago in Poets
The Hour That Watches Back The eye does not blink, it listens, gears whisper in its quiet pupil, a thousand small teeth turning,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
the battlefield is our mind the enemy is tireless in his quest he traps us snaps us claps us into performing isn't life grand?
By Colleen Walters7 months ago in Poets
“Who are you?” The fat worm asked me. I asked him which version he wanted— the one I thought of myself, or the one others thought of me.
By Natasha Collazo7 months ago in Poets
I thought you were dead A memory long gone An infection of illusion I sang your death song Threw dirt over your corpse In hopes you’d never darken my minds door
By Atomic Historian7 months ago in Poets
The Missing Pieces Speak Half a face, and still it breathes, still it tries to remember its own shape, lines trembling where the edges break,
