Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Walking through decades We have found hope within pain These years were the same
By Dany Jean-Pierre3 years ago in Poets
Humanity's gift Was no guarantee from Earth Oblivion, found
By Jonathan Lawrence3 years ago in Poets
What is a poet? A writer of dreams? A speaker of lies? A heart of many feelings Pouring out onto paper? It’s all of these things
By Mell3 years ago in Poets
He’s running Running on a time loop Running in and out of windows Running through the Vecindad Tumbling around Is there anything we can do to help this little one?
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
Shivers of terror Run through Earth’s spine Curled in as a newborn As moon light hits upon her delicate back A storm is coming
Lost gems shared anew with strangers in the future, Universal truths. You are invited to explore our stories and images from around the world at NORTHERN LIGHTS STUDIO. www.NLScreativemedia.com
By Iris Brooks3 years ago in Poets
Punctuality. Immortality—liter -ary? Lit'rally! • • • The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Illustrations by Henry Keen, published in 1925.
By Ángel Sierra3 years ago in Poets
In the forest where the trees dance, A symphony of nature's grace. Their leaves rustle with a gentle prance, In this sacred and peaceful place.
By thamee 163 years ago in Poets
A child in the well, oh what a fright Alone in the darkness, no end in sight Crying for help, but no one to hear Lost in the depths, consumed by fear
By JACK3 years ago in Poets
Unsure and careless. Fear masks their faces and hearts. A great depression.
By QC (A.K.A Soul Writer)3 years ago in Poets
There’s two coffee places on campus. One is in the main building where people hang out in between classes. The place is called The Cabin but it’s actually a Starbucks.
By Sabrina3 years ago in Poets
An elderly man, Sits in his tranquil respite. Time is slowing down.
By Halden Mile3 years ago in Poets
