Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Typing in a while An error Ctrl Z on my keyboard I headed back ≠ Driving in a while An accident Ctrl Z in my mind
By Marie Cadette Pierre-Louis3 years ago in Poets
We played with death So, we could be alive We knew that’s a risk we shouldn’t take But we are keen on life anyway
Who still writes beyond their 280 characters? Still taps an extra space between sentences or cares for grammar? These days every word
By Kincaid Jenkins3 years ago in Poets
Small minds stare into flames with dullard expression burning what knowledge could release them The drifting embers of
Water is flowing as the forest is growing, finding comfort in the thought of knowing. Knowing the beauties that are hidden within the sand, the water, the snow, and the dirt, the rock, the mud, and all things on this earth.
By Dylan 3 years ago in Poets
I need to puff puff like Gucci the reefer chiefer! Where are my smoking buddies at?? Hmmm?!!? no where to be found I guess.
By Angelina F. Thomas3 years ago in Poets
As I fall under the ocean of words World seems to be a better place A comfort zone The sound of typing on the keyboard Unsettled running of fingers on the keyboard
By Deepanshi J3 years ago in Poets
At this point, My body trembled to the point, of breakdown, but I was not yet ready to crumble. At this point, my body trembled until,
By Sandra M3 years ago in Poets
They told me to quiet my mind, I told them to quiet their fears... They told me I’m too much, I asked if they were afraid?
You are a mystery to me now, but one day you could be everything... The fear of the unknown, Is suddenly comforted by, Your sweet words.
Sixty seeds from Provence Sixty fragrant souls move to the Ili Valley The blue patch of the earth is extending
By Christy R Davis3 years ago in Poets
My nose is red and my eyes are pink, wet like water falls down the sides of my cheeks I lay my head on the thick of my sheets and silently, I weep.
By Bri Campbell3 years ago in Poets
