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What Lies Beneath the Earth
What Lies Beneath the Earth Beneath our feet the silence sleeps, In caverns no one dares to tread. Where darkness guards forgotten keeps, And whispers wake the long since dead.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
The World Stands on Standby again
The World Stands on Standby again It feels like the world’s on standby again, Holding its breath through unbearable flame. The sky wears a fever no rain can erase, As summer returns with a psychotic face.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
THE DAY THE WORDS REFUSED TO RHYME
THE DAY THE WORDS REFUSED TO RHYME This morning all my poems woke, yet none would speak to me, They hid themselves between the lines, where no one else could see.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
THE SHOP THAT SOLD TOMORROWS
THE SHOP THAT SOLD TOMORROWS I found a little shop one night, with no name upon the door, Its dusty shelves held tomorrows, hundreds, maybe more. Some futures shimmered bright as gold, some faded into grey, Some vanished when I reached for them, then quietly slipped away.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
THE LITTLE GOLD RING
THE LITTLE GOLD RING My mam and dad bought me a child’s gold ring when I was one, They had no savings, so I know it must have been hard for them, It sat upon a shelf inside our living room for years, I don’t think I ever wore it, but it was bought with love and care.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
NEVER POINT YOUR FINGER
NEVER POINT YOUR FINGER Never point your finger when your hands are far from clean, You may think you hide your dirt, but I can see what lies between. You throw your words like daggers, thinking I will take the blame, But shit often gets flung back, and it rarely misses the same.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
WHO PICKS THE ROADS WE TAKE?
WHO PICKS THE ROADS WE TAKE? Who picks the roads we take when the morning starts to rise, Do we choose the paths before us, or are they written in disguise? Some roads are bright and shining, with the sunlight dressed in gold, While others hide beneath the shadows, where the bitter winds blow cold.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
I Squawk
I am a bird in a cage. I squawk. You call it singing. It isn't. It is the sound of a beak striking silence until silence breaks.
By Tina D. Lopez3 months ago in Poets
MIXED MARRIAGES — 2
THE KITCHEN WALL REMEMBERS You taught me how to cook the food you loved, Indian spices dancing beneath my hands, You showed me the flavours, the heat, the way, And I tried so hard to understand.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
THE WOMAN WHO WOULDN’T WALK THREE STEPS BEHIND
MIXED MARRIAGES — 1 THE WOMAN WHO WOULDN’T WALK THREE STEPS BEHIND You came from a country where women walk three steps behind their man,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
THE MAN WHO COLLECTED STRANGE FACES
THE MAN WHO COLLECTED STRANGE FACES He kept them in a velvet room, Behind a door of polished bone, A thousand faces watched him sleep, Though none of them were truly known.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
My Vice, My Style
My Vice, My Style Purple like a poppy that’s broken and bleeding, A beautiful warning to those who come needing. I bloom in the shadows where secrets run wild,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets