They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
I wanted to scream. Grab you by the collar. Ask you why, beg you to stop, force you to leave. Why wasn't I enough...why? Wasn't I enough?
By A Poet8 years ago in Poets
Like a tornado she strikes everything with in her reach, a beautiful disaster she is, but I can’t help to love her;
By Gabriela Linares8 years ago in Poets
I remember you from years ago, A person among my childhood, As you faded your memories lingered, I always knew you’d mean something to me.
By Noah Renee8 years ago in Poets
i fall in love with the little things, like half smiles and freckled noses, like lip chewing and bad liars. and you fall in love with little things, too?
By spooky g 🕸🎃8 years ago in Poets
You know what sucks Every time I see a photo of you I can't resist the thought of remembering all the reasons why I fell in love with you.
By Ashley Jimenez 🌻8 years ago in Poets
You must have grown tired of this weary place, lost trying to find yourself, yet couldn't find a trace. Your journey wasn't an easy, this we all knew. You fought a battle within, and we never had a clue.
By Donna West8 years ago in Poets
We loved with a fire comparable to the sun We were young and crazy Lighting flames as we danced across the sky Playing with fire without a care in the world if we got burned
By Cassidy Wilson8 years ago in Poets
Wake up in the morning not wanting to move Tossing and turning don’t know what to do I know how I’m supposed to feel but I bring myself to you
By Alexis Cantu8 years ago in Poets
It's like a boulder A huge boulder in the back of my throat When all this was just shrugged off my shoulder I forget and forget until it suddenly rolls down my cheek
By Kailey Lynn8 years ago in Poets
How it feels to love anotherWho clearly does not love you,Does far more mental damageThan any hurricane can do. I trusted you, believed you,Every time I searched your eyes.In the end, I'm just another hole,Who fell for all your lies.
By Jessica Snow8 years ago in Poets
The pencil, the letters of charcoal you punctured across the emptiness of my heart, slowly accomplished a whisper of hope,
By Sharlene Alba8 years ago in Poets
I'm bitter because I've given away too much of myself to decaying souls. I'm a writer because it's my way to escape this endless screaming film my thorn encrusted hands created.
