…As Clear as Humanly Possible. Smithereen nomenclature setting, off to Build-A-Bear. Doubt they’ll have the correct parts for the four horsemen.
By Willem Indigoabout a year ago in Poets
Today I time traveled, You know those moments that feel like magic when space and time align just right you are transported back to a memory so vivid so real, it’s as if you never left
By David Williamsabout a year ago in Poets
No matter how expensive Succulent Opulent And fragrant They may be You'll never smell the flowers on your grave ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By Matthew J. Frommabout a year ago in Poets
i hated the loblaws washroom tucked away behind pallets and boxes, shelves and products no one really cared for it was unseen, a blind spot
By Oneg In The Arcticabout a year ago in Poets
I am not okay. Numbness echoes through me. Some days it's hard to stay. To fight the urge to be free. To escape the pain.
By Luna Verityabout a year ago in Poets
Snow falls, weaving lace from a forlorn sky that caresses the tender edges of sand dunes. Indigo waves buoy lamented lullabies,
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets
Surrounded yet alone Deafening talk all around None directed at me I wait, feeling tense, unsafe Questioning if I am wanted
By Savannah K. Wilsonabout a year ago in Poets
Life doesn’t pause—it shifts its shape, It doesn’t heal, it learns to drape Soft silence over empty chairs, And plants new flowers in the tears.
By Zakir Ullahabout a year ago in Poets
You are the seed, planted deep in the soil of possibility. Even in the darkness, growth is stirring— quiet, steady, waiting for you to notice.
By Aima Charleabout a year ago in Poets
I am invisible. The desperation in my eyes. I am disposable. The deafening silence of my cries. I am broken. The love I gave... and gave... and gave.
Alone is not the enemy, though we’ve dressed it in shadow and fear. It is the sound beneath the noise, the breath we hold to hear.
By Gabriela Toneabout a year ago in Poets
There’s a kind of love that doesn’t scream to be heard— it hums beneath the surface, soft and sure. And that’s what this is.
By Annie Edwards about a year ago in Poets
