Aunty Fanny’s Funeral Auntie Fanny’s funeral—what a to-do! Thirty stone for all to see. “Did she have a mustache?”
By Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Middle Age Quagmire Out of shape and out of style / A shotgun shack for a domicile. Overworked and overdrawn / Still, I keep on keeping on.
By Chris Zabout a year ago in Poets
Grandma’s fancy dish out only on holidays filled with candies that melt in your mouth; pastel pink, green.
By Shams Saysabout a year ago in Poets
A young man asked an old man about wealth, and he said: The haste of youth is a calamity The patience of youth is wealth
By Kisama Riyo about a year ago in Poets
He said about his morning: The morning passed with hope. And tomorrow roams and boasts And watered his desires with loyalty.
A writer looked at the dirt and described it, saying: The dirt rose and calmed down Angrily at what lies Humbly walking on it
Light flies after sunset And darkness lines up on the paths A cloud chases the flash of light And takes the evening as a light to ride on
Thirst for life extended a cup The rain fell heavily, increasing his misery So he thought the cup was filled with drizzle
The heat of the world is stingy with you It brings you comfort like the sun The day burns you with heat It possesses the art of excitement with you
On the back of the wind came the clouds And rain does not strike its blow The blow of heat so he took his precautions
Oh, Jeff... I love you, too...but... Love's not always enough... can't you see The tears...the words...sometimes The timing's off...you were there...I was here
By The Invisible Writerabout a year ago in Poets
i am an embezzler of embellishments and i've come for many things you won’t even know i'm there not until you feel the sting
By Brenabout a year ago in Poets
