Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Silver fingertips gliding, gently grasping Silky water, clanking Smoke, billowing from the stove top with forgotten dinner leftovers
By Stephanie Bojanek 3 years ago in Poets
Thoughts Thoughts are populating In my mind deep inside I keep on running at my pace But I’m running out of time All these things I have to do
By Caelen Trice3 years ago in Poets
I feel the absence of your hands all over my body when I want to be touched I feel the absence of your lips over mine
By Mashal Haroon3 years ago in Poets
The glow of the tv holds more than blue light. It holds my distraction, my companions for the night. I sit and stare, laugh with the track.
By Campbell Diesel3 years ago in Poets
Soft blankets and pillows surround me The rain pitter patter outside The fire crackling embers The smell of peppermint tea
By Alessandra Felice3 years ago in Poets
Gave you chances say you’re sorry In the end your ego rose So you know I’ll write my story On this beat I will expose Pricks like you I’ve seen too many
By Haychie_Artist3 years ago in Poets
Creative writing is a passion when putting your ideas on paper and explaining to anyone what is in your head. Whether it is a fantasy story, a poem, or even a short story you choose to tell.
By stephanie borges3 years ago in Poets
I looked for me ofttimes She looked at me always As much as I abhorred her She was always there I was slim She was fat
By Marie Cadette Pierre-Louis3 years ago in Poets
I was handsome with the cursive as a young man Dancing on purpose, to slow jams On paper I can do more than...just relate, damn!
By El Poet3 years ago in Poets
Live it up Only for you. Be selfless Be gentle In the presence of others. Be selfish when it comes to your happiness.
By Jordan McCoy 3 years ago in Poets
What is your name? So simple. A question, Asked again and again. I always know the answer. Simple Im me. But my name is not my identity.
Estas cosas están sin sentido, Aún, ellos se arrastran su camino hasta nuestra garganta, Para quemar palabras en silencio.
By Laura Lann3 years ago in Poets
