vintage
Vintage poetry stands the test of time; collections and anthologies of classic poems and enduring verses from eras past.
Scars
The scars outside Are nothing compared to those on the inside The ones we use lies to hide Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in PoetsAnkylosaurus
Covered in armor and spikes They cover me from head to toe However, if you can reach it There’s a soft spot below But good luck with that
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in PoetsVillain
Always the villain Never the victim If it has happened to you I probably caused it Either through action or inaction
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in PoetsImagining the 1960s if Hitler Won in World War II
Heavy boots march, a loud, repeating sound As the Reich's evil flags are displayed around Silencing freedom's voice, creating a dark link
Infographics ShowPublished about a month ago in PoetsSatay Sonata
In bamboo's grasp, the stage is set, fragrant and bright, Marinated art, a canvas alight. On fiery coals, a smoky tune is played,
EstalontechPublished about a month ago in PoetsA Beacon in the Dark
Loneliness, a feeling so profound, A weight that's heavy, a heart that's bound, In solitude, I wander, lost and found, A soul adrift, in a world unbound.
Kageno HoshinoPublished about a month ago in PoetsWhose Life Am I Living?
I awake to the dawn of dusk in cool empty sheets In the mirror I look at the face of an uncanny being I move towards the breakfast table with six seats only to end with a quickly fleeing
Joseph HernandezPublished about a month ago in PoetsWill Nigeria Rise Again
In the land where the sun sets ablaze, Nigeria's economy struggles in a haze. Once rich in oil, now crippled by greed,
Victor Obanor OsagiePublished about a month ago in PoetsChameleon
I’m a chameleon One in a million Which only means there are a thousand others like me You may not like me My skin is rough
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in PoetsGhost in a Shell
Life is hell I’m just a ghost in a shell No one to know me No one to tell My story to Because they can’t relate Is this my fate
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in PoetsReflections on Motherhood
I repeatedly brought my mother to tears. Her cries did not appeal to me as a ten-year-old. I wish I could go back now that I am a mommy.
Ranjith KumarPublished about a month ago in PoetsConfronting the Illusion: A Journey from Impulsiveness to Self-Reflection
I'm upset with myself for slipping because I realised I was doing it. By the time I had transitioned from my impulsiveness to a more conscious mental State Regarding my decisions and actions, I had already fallen into a pattern that I believed to be far gone.
Ranjith KumarPublished about a month ago in Poets