Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Poets.

Fluttering.
In the depths of Ireland Willow wisps flicker around And I wonder if they'll notice me Even if I don't make a sound There she lingers in lingerie
By Anecia Lewis9 years ago in Poets
Daily Poem
You Ice is cold. And it burns Just the thought of it sends shivers down my spine Your face as I look at it- frozen Unknown whether out of stone, or in time itself
By Ramon Fonseca9 years ago in Poets
Carbon-Copied Keepsakes
Make Your Move Pay the bill? Or slay with skill? You have the choice. What do you do? Have a voice? Or just make do...
By Keenan Chiasson9 years ago in Poets
Suicide
There’s a pain I can’t describe when I think about that night, when I think about the air being sucked out of my lungs when I’m told what you tried to do.
By Danni Greer9 years ago in Poets
Superwoman
She doesn't complain that everyone calls her name She doesn't make a fit that her job she can't quit She wakes up every morning thinking what do "they" have to do
By Alexis Edgerton9 years ago in Poets
Lost and Found
I still wish someone would come save me. I could switch, but would you mind if I stayed here? To look up at the stars nothing seems far baby.
By NYILA RODRIGUEZ9 years ago in Poets
I Woman, I Tori . Top Story - July 2017.
I am woman Hear me shout Hear me Explain why I'm human Should be cared about I explain my existence As biracial
By Vaisa Haile9 years ago in Poets
Being Mixed
Growing up mixed I always had a different approach towards myself and the way I allowed myself to see the world. High school was hard and interesting, it being a majority African-American, while the Hispanic and white population hardly stood a chance.
By Alexia Villanueva9 years ago in Poets
The Marks You Left Behind
Every word that you utter is a life sentence to me. Without your words, though, I would be empty. You leave prints on the world around you.
By Rachel Dionne9 years ago in Poets
Lost Boys
We call them lost boys. We call them lost boys- not because they don't how to use a map, Or because they're always boys.
By Bridget Meier9 years ago in Poets
Fat
Fat. My husband dances around the word, but I know that's what he means. I've gotten fat. I know it's true, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.
By No One9 years ago in Poets
Alone
I wait for you Alone In the dark Looking up at the stars Wishing Dreaming Wanting Waiting For you For the light
By Hallie Hammond9 years ago in Poets