Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Silly dances, funny faces, invisible bees chasing us down a street tripping over feet, running into spiderwebs, listening to songs on repeat
By The Invisible Writer3 years ago in Poets
My King sits in observance over the nations of this earth He remains steadfast and true Certain in His victory Confident in His Strategy
By Mia Janaé Carmickle3 years ago in Poets
To shoot or not to shoot, when I had on the blue suit. It was a mistake. No, these feelings aren't fake. I understand my wrong, and I deserve to be gone.
By J. K. Anderson3 years ago in Poets
Hello everyone!!! Comment Below your topics i will write poet or story based on your topic so lets go comment below and get first
By Zulqarnain Haider3 years ago in Poets
Forever is a word so bold, A promise that cannot be sold, For when we say it, we declare, That nothing can ever compare.
By Samantha Mia3 years ago in Poets
n the fields of green and gold, Where the sun sets and the day grows old, The sky is painted with hues so bold, Of orange, pink, and purple to behold.
Your eyes, they tell a story true, A tale of honesty, through and through, With every glance and every stare, They speak of truths beyond compare.
By Safeera Sathar3 years ago in Poets
Homeless people wander the streets, Their plight often goes unseen. They are the forgotten souls, Living in poverty and without means.
She waits in solitude, with patience and grace, For the one she loves to return to this place, Long years have passed since he sailed away, But she's held on to hope every single day.
A beautiful poem was alive in my head- Pillaged by a new thought, all the poetry fled. What were the words? I cant remember!
By Kristen Balyeat3 years ago in Poets
Life's absurdities are quite mean, Like a pineapple being green. We laugh and we cry, As we question just why, But joy in the chaos is often seen.
By Emily Curry (Rising Phoenix)3 years ago in Poets
I work a job I hate I can't get a date. All I want to do is write At work all it seems I do is fight When Monday rolls back around it always seems I'm running late.
By DJ Robbins3 years ago in Poets
