Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
"The memories linger, the echoes remain The love that was, no longer sustains The heart is empty, the soul is numb
By karthik k3 years ago in Poets
Earth, our home and precious gem In the vast expanse of space A blue and green oasis, a place for us to dwell
"The dreams were bright, the hopes were high The future seemed, to reach the sky But then it broke, like glass in hand
"With every step, I trace my path ahead, Along a trail that winds through memory. The past, the present, and the future spread,
"The music of life, a symphony untold, A harmony of emotions, young and old, With each note, a story is woven,
If I knew that I could not fail, I'd take the risks that once seemed so bold. And try the things that I'd set aside, That once seemed too impossible to hold.
By Ekagrata Kalra3 years ago in Poets
Tickety-tock Zenith and over, standstill. A time doesn’t cease.
By Deasun T. Smyth3 years ago in Poets
The night he died he messaged me. The night she died I could have messaged her. A shotgun to his face. A needle in her vein.
By Lizzie Alan3 years ago in Poets
People make the claim That time moves ever faster, Each moment a breath.
By Jackie Barrows3 years ago in Poets
Jump roping lunar cycles. High upon the tree line. Don't get tangled.
By Willem Indigo3 years ago in Poets
Between the two trees Stand the rolling hills of time. Enter its void gate.
Memories are a precious part of our lives, they shape who we are and remind us of the moments that matter most. This poem is a tribute to the memories that we hold dear, the moments that bring us joy and comfort in times of need.
By Jay V3 years ago in Poets
