Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
... Lost...
Who am I? How did I get here? I used to know myself but now I am lost... You came to my life and make it so beautiful. I still remember those butterflies and the way you make me feel. I was happy YES once upon a time I was happy but now I don't remember how that feels. I don't remember how to laugh how to sing how to dance in the rain. All I see, it's darkness. You give me everything at the beginning and now you're taking it away. All the tears drama fights. You just don't care anymore but guess what neither do I. I will stand by myself and I will stand tall. I bring that girl I used to be back maybe not today maybe not tomorrow but she will come back I make sure of it... and you well I only have one word for you KARMA...
By Asiakeu ........8 years ago in Poets
Singing in Thunder
Sometimes I hear myself singing. It can be anywhere. My body starts to hum foreign melodies over my skin. Goosebumps prickle into symphonies and pirouettes beneath each hair. Legs start to shake with the heavy thrum of sound that gyrate in each vein. Oxygen floods to my head and the silence is something each nerve dances to and breathes off.
By Chloe Jade8 years ago in Poets
Cloud Ships
As i lay there quietly drifting through waves unseen in countless seas i dream. Softly wind goes blows the waves through the fields of grass i lay. clouds i see sailing waters pure and clean. So silently i sit so still indeed i see the clouds, there sails change wind so abrupt. There as i lay with peace of mind i lose it all, as i see a cloud so strong a ship it is to sail the skies. But as the old men said the stronger they are the harder they fall. With a thundering crack, the cloud goes dark as the creek of a broken mast hits my ear drums. Size uncompared to my eyes as long as the imagination and as wide as my mind's intuition. A hull the likes of witch no one has ever seen falls from the sky. The earth unprepared shatters as the giant hull hits the dirt. The ground shakes, i fall to the ground my knees weakened. When the dust settles and my mind releases me from its prison. I think to myself, should have brought an umbrella.
By Corbin Thomas8 years ago in Poets
