Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
I open up the app to find a friend, A way to make the lonely feeling end. I swipe through faces, happy, smart, and kind,
By The 9x Fawdi3 months ago in Poets
We are the products, you're the buyer, Scrolling through the digital fire. Our photos, polished, bright and clean, A marketplace of "might-have-been."
First, a match, a spark of light, Conversation flows throughout the night. Plans are made, a hopeful start, Then silence falls and breaks your heart.
So many faces in my hand, A sea of smiles across the land. A thousand wins, a "Match!" so bright, It fills my lonely screen with light.
We build our altars to the algorithm's god, And curate faces on the polished sod. A marketplace of smiles, a digital sea,
Not from a lofty bough does it depend, But from a tender, layered, leafy friend. A cheerful yellow crescent, curved and sleek,
your music tastes like strawberry You read like perfume Toasted spices that feel like warm, soft, dainty, hugs But I have no experience toasting any spices ever in my life
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 months ago in Poets
The House next door is always quiet, It's a bit spooky, and there's something that just doesn't feel right. I have never seen a single soul around,
By Hardy3 months ago in Poets
It begins in the smallest way, your hand brushing mine as though it’s done so a thousand times before. There’s a quiet knowing in that touch,
By Printique Studios3 months ago in Poets
An inch and a mile An inch and a mile were sailing down the Nile They did it in such style Made it look cinch
By Christopher Beard3 months ago in Poets
this is gonna hurt me so i’m gonna have to make it hurt you more it's not gonna be pretty but i have to settle this score
By Bren3 months ago in Poets
BRIDGE: Not Alright VERSE 1: I’m alright I’m doing good Pray to God I know I would Born and raised In London East End….
By Haychie_Artist3 months ago in Poets
