They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Back in the days When I still had you I didn't need anyone else at all But if I could have Looked at the future The scenes would have stained
By J.J. Caldwell8 years ago in Poets
Rip through the skin, there she is again. Fallen to her hands and knees, she looks at the mess she has made on the floor. Burgundy river reflects the mask on her head. She finally sees through the blinded eye.
By Katie-Lee McKenzie-Litawchuk8 years ago in Poets
Dear Father, Where were you? I needed you, I needed you there I needed you to catch me if I were to fall You were supposed to love me,
By Amber Williams8 years ago in Poets
I can see you in every drop of water that falls when it rains I can see you when I wake up in the night from all of these pains
By Adam Dryden8 years ago in Poets
I see your ghost you linger, still my heart calls out and yet it's chilled we stare into each other's eyes yet right on through
By Monique Watrous8 years ago in Poets
Wasted in the morning Troubled all my dreams away Dirty little secrets You don't know what I would say When I see you falling
By Paul David Anger8 years ago in Poets
Your battle isn't over, your journey isn't done This disease will fight you, but it hasn't won Your smile lights up the room, and makes those girls go woo!
By Mary harrald8 years ago in Poets
I once thought my home was pure. A specific location appeared as A sheltered safe haven, yet For so long, I trusted this
By Amelia Davis8 years ago in Poets
Despair, shaken to the core at the loss of myself. Supportive looks from the surrounding people, not knowing how to help. The world moves forward around me, time continuing its eternal march.
By Dylan Johnson8 years ago in Poets
And the truth is I’m the one to blame. I messed up. I tried to make pieces fit that really in the long run never would have.
By Amanda Zylstra8 years ago in Poets
When he breaks your heart, let yourself be sad. Let the sadness consume your entire body until all that comes out of your mouth is broken sobs and quick breaths.
By Hannah Mendenhall8 years ago in Poets
The heat. Stifling. Wilting my memory under the weight of it. It was bright even before I woke. I knew it from the orange sheen glowing radiant through shut lids, and from the flood of blindness as they parted.
By Michael Paul Michaud8 years ago in Poets
