Most recently published stories in Poets.
Don't look it in the eyes, It might turn me, It could be contagious, My monster may come on out just like her's. It was unexpected,
By Noah Renee8 years ago in Poets
I was welcomed by the London Eye.Big Ben stands beyond the fog.We never noticed the grass was wet. Namco Arcade warps us to BlackpoolAnd Las Vegas with flashing lights,Colourful mascots and underground bowling.
By Chloe Gilholy8 years ago in Poets
Whenever I do work... Writing essays, editing, and the sort, I like to have my girl, Ashley, close at hand. You know...
By Duanyell Williams8 years ago in Poets
Surgery went good, I guess, I woke up and my face felt weird, My lips were extremely swollen, I look like Angelina Jolie,
By Crystal Korpan8 years ago in Poets
So silent, where before, I heard your voice. So dark, where before, I felt your light, your warmth. So empty, where before, my heart was full of love both given and received.
By Leslie Baldwin8 years ago in Poets
You act like we do not understand what you deal with when you know full well we've been putting up with it our entire lives.
By Amber Crocker8 years ago in Poets
Our conversation lulls for a moment too long, and I feel awkward, uncomfortable… unsure what to say or do next. So I pull out my phone.
By Nathan Heard8 years ago in Poets
When I was a pixie I wanted to be a pink princessSo I hired an army of teddy bearsAnd ate my crownYou can be a princess too: but my kingdom is cuter
I am the jaded giant fading amoungst the clouds. In a circumstance of forced compliance Peering worrisome above the crowds.
By Dennis LaLiberte II8 years ago in Poets
My words strike out and flail around like your arms and fists... Did I strike this time? I cannot see cannot hear cannot feel.
By Kris Kaila8 years ago in Poets
My inspiration has run dry, like a river named denial. I will find myself again. I will find my way through the woods on this broken yellow brick road.
By Amanda Zylstra8 years ago in Poets
Seven billion people // fourteen billion faces. We bend down to help only to have someone untie our laces. We are masters of unsaid words but slaves of those we let slip out.
By n vash8 years ago in Poets
