First Draft

Political Seventeen
Note: you may not be aware of this, but many in the American conspiracy community believe that the seventeenth letter of the alphabet is connected to Q, which is:
By Kendall Defoe 9 months ago in Poets
The Quiet Shape of Violence. Content Warning.
Violence does not always scream— sometimes, it hums behind the teeth, a lullaby in broken keys, the rattle of breath before a blow.
By E. hasan9 months ago in Poets
The Person We Should Say
.. ''Thank you'' .. Someone .. who doesn't care about us He is teaching us.. To live.. without him
By Rohitha Lanka9 months ago in Poets
Echoes of the Past
I have gone far To the past To the sweet memories of the times spent with you.. Today, when I see the beautiful places I met that day, my heart has become dark..
By Rohitha Lanka9 months ago in Poets
When First Love Met
First love met... A breeze blew, and the war faded A wasp came and cried, the heart was sad A poem was composed, you died
By Rohitha Lanka9 months ago in Poets
Coal (raw)
It’s almost 3AM  there’s a breeze slipping under the door  the room is filled with darkness  and I don’t know why I thought of us again,
By Glyds9 months ago in Poets
She Walks Her Own Way
Duty is her direction Experience is her capital Habit is her destiny Complex things, but do it easily, she is an expert
By Rohitha Lanka9 months ago in Poets
I remember her. Content Warning.
I remember her; Lost in a room behind a quiet door, she curled into the hush of pain— clutching her belly like it could hold her together, a little longer.
By Glyds9 months ago in Poets
LIGHT VERSUS DARK. Content Warning.
Written, created, edited, produced into a story directly from my brain adventures of dreams and living in a paint bucket amidst a tortured economy and chaotic political climate in 2025.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 9 months ago in Poets
One Day I…
The sun sat low in the sky, spilling its last warmth over the land. The air was still, yet my chest held a storm. I sat alone on a flat rock, toes digging into the dry earth, watching shadows stretch long across the savanna. This moment—this endless stretch of quiet—should have been enough. But I wasn’t here.
By Elsa Rose N. Cheping9 months ago in Poets
The Plaything
Do you know what its like to feel the rainbow see the many colours but then to realize that its nothing but a dream? I felt the heat of love as I slept
By Kia T Cooper-Erbst9 months ago in Poets
A Poem for No One in Particular
If you find this poem between grocery lists and laundry piles— it’s for you. You, who forgets to count themselves
By Malik Kashif9 months ago in Poets