They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Late nights, sleepovers, being held by you, mind games, laughter, mystery, happiness, constants, in the moment, forehead kisses, massages, loss of sleep, trying to break your layers to get the depth from you was work.
By Genesis Mendoza8 years ago in Poets
I love you Three words that mean nothing When used by a guy Just three simple words That always become a lie What am I to do
By Visionary Ghostwriter8 years ago in Poets
Getting back with your ex Is kind of like Picking up a grenade That didn't explode And handing it back to The person who pulled the pin.
By Marisol Luna8 years ago in Poets
To create is to ache. The marriage of being happy and being creative is rickety, built on lies. Fleeting. Artists know. We know the broken heart is what makes the art.
By V. Renae8 years ago in Poets
There are some people in life That you are destined to walk beside Fated to keep at an arms length Your lines never crossing
By Samantha Reid8 years ago in Poets
I think I'm finally ready To try to unscramble my head It's impossible to explain in person So I guess a poem will work instead
I left my love at home this time. I forgot it was both of us in this room. Room of love so spectacular that I would always blush.
By Crissy DXCII8 years ago in Poets
My seafoam hair comes out in clumps, tangled strands winding around my fingers every time I brush back my bangs or twirl dry and splitting curls. I am used to it now, dropping
By Kye Earley8 years ago in Poets
Sometimes bad things happen So good things can take their place Sometimes we go through hurt and pain So we can get stronger
In a world full of madness and chaos You remain the same You look so innocent But you're eyes say a different thing Hurt and pain fill your iris's
By Anaica Rivera8 years ago in Poets
Tell me if you love me If not don't let me be the last to know? Please don't make me feel like a fool. I am in love with you.
By Authoress Shavonda Robinson8 years ago in Poets
She is perched on her rickety wooden chair, grinning at her textbook like it cracked a joke when she cracked its spine. I want to ask her why
