Free Verse

Words
Words, yes what you and we all write, think, and everything belongs to words, they born, grow and die, also they teach, flow, fly,
By P.A.Vinura Jayasanka2 years ago in Poets
Refugee's Journey
With knapsacks filled with memory's weight, They flee the land where shadows wait. No trumpet sounds, no marching band,
By Ahmed Latreche 2 years ago in Poets
Ice cream sandwiches
Please give me an ice cream sandwich To return to childhood from when I was young until now still lingers in the memory
By Ngoanbibo2 years ago in Poets
I FEAR
I fear my dreams will never meet my expectations Who am I without purpose? and what's purpose without a path to Embody. Does a soul know its destiny before the carrier is corrupted with malady
By Irvin 2 years ago in Poets
Did You Know You're a Writer?
Did you know you're a writer? That you have an amazing ability that not many possess The power to manipulate words, molding and transforming them into life like worlds.
By Jasmine Aguilar2 years ago in Poets
The Sun-Bleached Photograph
Cracked edges, a yellowed hue, a story trapped in time, Sun-bleached faces smiling, on this fragile, fading rhyme. Two figures standing close, beneath a summer sky,
By a broken heart2 years ago in Poets
The Rusted Swing Set
Empty laughter echoes, where children once did play, The swing set creaks, a rusted monument to yesterday. Chains hang limp, like forlorn, outstretched arms,
By a broken heart2 years ago in Poets
Leonie's Heart of Darkness
"Carnal desire mixed with dark and depraved inhibitions coursed through his veins as he grew bolder, waiting impatiently to release his magic on her. Knowing she didn't matter to him, he ignored her fears. A prop. That's all she was. Her innocence; irrelevant. Leonie. Sweet little Leonie was nothing more than a prop in his play, and he forgot all about her while he prepared the final potions." ~ King Stefan, the Darkness ~ An excerpt from Chapter 1 ~ The Banishment ~ The Origins of Darkness
By KA Stefana 2 years ago in Poets
Imagination Island
As I daydream About what Could be I imagine That I am on a Floating Island In the sky Watching men fish For flying fish
By Mother Combs2 years ago in Poets
I am a killer
I am a killer, my mind is a graveyard. My ideas, my stories, my children; all lie broken and mangled. Mauled, misshapen, aborted, mutilated. All lie in the graveyard of my thoughts or the mausoleum of my computer files.
By Chris Heller2 years ago in Poets
Holding On. Top Story - March 2024.
We are hanging by a thread, suspended like a spiderweb that has been broken. Flailing in the wind, unattached, but for that one solitary strand
By Randy Baker2 years ago in Poets
Shipwreck
I lit the beacon Of the lighthouse Hoping you would Find your way Safely to my shores Through the rocky inlet To the warm
By Elizabeth Arnold2 years ago in Poets