Family

My Burden, My Curse
Upon birth, they say, an angel did descend, warning my mother, "There will be false friends. Protect her, dear, for she carries a gift
By Dani Banani9 months ago in Poets
As I Teach Nature to My Kids
Both my little kids are pretty well-versed, in flora and fauna. They add daily, to their knowledge — and why wouldn’t they?
By Seema Patel9 months ago in Poets
Mother's Day
I saw a mother and son with a bouquet of flowers. They must be celebrating, Mother’s Day. I’m a mother too—
By Seema Patel9 months ago in Poets
Beyond The Clock.
I want to believe that I'll meet my loved ones again—that a day will come when everyone I love is together, and we no longer have to worry about a clock or the stress of days flying by.
By April Kirby.9 months ago in Poets
No Broken Bones
I have been broken But my bones are intact Words that were spoken Can’t be taken back The scars that I bear May not be seen on my skin
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden9 months ago in Poets
Girls just wanna have fund$
Don’t call it gold-digging when you’ve built kingdoms on our unpaid labor— our bodies, our patience, our silence. We don’t want your “good morning” texts,
By Cadma9 months ago in Poets
Dear Mom
Growing up, I thought you were cool, Mom, But then realized you’re kind of like a bomb. Constantly stressing that you’re going to blow,
By Tiffany Kalify9 months ago in Poets
Mother
🌸 Mother 🌸 When You Came Into This World You brought the light, You taught me to see the difference Between wrong and right.
By Rony Sutradar9 months ago in Poets
Reel Life Crisis: When Wi-Fi Becomes Your Best Friend
📱“Reel-ity Check!” — A Funny Poem on Internet Overload 🌐 In the kingdom of Wi-Fi, we all wear a crown, Scrolling and swiping, lying upside down.
By Lokesh Kumar9 months ago in Poets
Fast Food Fables: A Comedy in a Bun
Fast Food Fables: A Comedy in a Bun Hey buddy, got fries? Got that fizzy delight? Cracking open a soda feels so right— Until your belly bloats like a parade balloon,
By Lokesh Kumar9 months ago in Poets
At Any Time of Night or Day
Terrible things are happening outside. At any time of night and day, poor helpless people are being dragged out of their homes.
By Cadma9 months ago in Poets
The Last Poem He Wrote Before the Bomb Fell
The poem was scribbled on the back of a ration box—folded three times, edges singed. When I found it in the tin footlocker buried beneath rubble, I didn't know it would change my life. All I knew was that the name in the corner, written in a bold, unshaken hand, was my grandfather's.
By Muhammad Sabeel9 months ago in Poets