Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Poets.

Darkness
Darkness — simple thing, isn't it? So simple yet so complex. The things that lurk in the darkness are unseen to all. They do this for a purpose. They want to play on the strings of your mind. The glimpses of shadows you see through the corners of your eyes are real, and they see you too. The realness of the darkness captures some. Leading them to do harmful things. The darkness is depression. A void that once you gaze into for too long, it gets a hold of you. This type of entity manifests itself quite quickly destroying everything in its path. Have you ever wondered what would happen if you gave into the darkness? Would the people around you remember you? Would they even care?
By Victoria8 years ago in Poets
The Last Kiss
Don't tell me that I can't live life the way I want, Because I didn't tell you anything, when you were smoking a blunt! You were laying there, suffocating, asking for help,
By Roman Maksimov8 years ago in Poets
Fealty
I'm like a Father I'm the head of the house Cheif of the tribe I'm a holy mystic A glowing shaman I expand worlds when I give secret books
By Duanyell Williams8 years ago in Poets
What I Mean When I Say Depression
When I say I'm depressed, I mean I can't get out of bed. Not that I don't want to. I want nothing more than to get out from under this gigantic elephant that's pushing down on my chest to the point it feels like my ribs have shattered
By Kailey Lynn8 years ago in Poets
Seasoned
Here's to you: the seasoned sailorof these tempestuous wordsthe autumnal expert leaf turnerbook openerchapter beginnersecret enjoyer of craft pumpkin-spiced beveragesthe jaded cliche artistof suburbia's forgotten dreamsseptember beginsfor youconnoisseur ofdark corner cafésyeah, this one's for you:caffeinated poetof redundancieswith your enigmaticphilosophical tendenciesthere aren't enoughold wool sweatersand calf lengthboots to disguiseyour lax grip on the season's fashionis effortless the ephemera extraordinaireimmortalising the fleeting momentslingering in
By b g8 years ago in Poets
A Perfect Day
Damn. It is a perfect day outside. The breeze brushes the acorns and the smell of charcoal reminds me it's the weekend.
By Ti Ana8 years ago in Poets
Rare Gem
I stand on a beach, made of pink sands I bend down to pick such beauty with my hands As I stand up. I see this figure, a lady
By Harydo Neon8 years ago in Poets
I Am From...
I am from Old buildings, streetlights, and abandoned train tracks I am from hardworking, spread-out family that does odd jobs
By Kailey Lynn8 years ago in Poets
When the Sun Comes Up
Your nimbly stencilled, night-sky black Butterfly tattoo That used to be daintily doodled across Your beautiful baby face
By Victoria Simons8 years ago in Poets
Taking Action
Why do we wait, Until it’s too late, Before we try to make a change? Maybe because, We’re too ignorant or arrogant, To realise our initial mistakes,
By Felicity Lyons8 years ago in Poets
Volcano Called Love
What the hell is love? How do you define it? Does it come only in summer, winter or maybe spring? I was once a peaceful city
By Harydo Neon8 years ago in Poets
Absence
i look over the water i see i hear the lone seagull perched on the pier as if sitting upon the edge of my thoughts today i am present
By b g8 years ago in Poets