To have empathy is to draw others to you like a butterfly to honey’s nectar. Not all are born with this compassionate gene.
By Daphsam6 months ago in Poets
In the dark of night, where shadows creep, The circle of death whispers cold and deep. Zombies roam where the lost souls weep.
By Nathan Harker6 months ago in Poets
How often I wish I were the wind blown off to a place far, far away Landing unweathered, alas thickened skinned 🌴 often, I reflect on when I've sinned
By Marilyn Glover6 months ago in Poets
I was in my room when I lost my mind, Like most of my dreams I waited to wake up and die, But I never did and I think it’s a luxury I’ll never find.
By Katherine Bodger6 months ago in Poets
Through a working day into a snowy slippery night The roads where slick gleaming off the moonlight Shimmering my way forward i lost direction
By Blake Robert6 months ago in Poets
Real men do cry. Saying “real men don’t cry” has always been one of the biggest lies. Real men do cry. This notion isn’t always appealing so men always resort to hiding our feelings.
By Joe Patterson6 months ago in Poets
Was it all in my head? You've left me feeling so confused. Is there someone else you want instead? What did you think once my messages were read?
By Hailey Marchand-Nazzaro6 months ago in Poets
Alexandra was always drowning in An ocean of her relentless weeping. Poor child. Will this sorrow ever end? Alexandra had constantly fallen
By Catherine Burford6 months ago in Poets
Keep out the light or hold the light inside, Folded and falling, tethered by a string; Eyes open, in the darkness, where I hide.
By Jamie LeFebvre 6 months ago in Poets
Oh Christ, I'm fucking hungry For the cigarette days full of black coffee, Tiny little jeans, and horrid aftershave When I was a nail-bitten mess
By Silver Serpent Books6 months ago in Poets
I am dressed for the funeral of my self-respect black from head to toe except the scarf to hide the bruises of your love
By TheSpinstress6 months ago in Poets
Mind scattered, no resting place in sight. Insides reeking of stress, nights shorter and shorter, longer and longer.
By Andie Emerson6 months ago in Poets