Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.
We need all the hidden rainbows that make the unseen seeable, the unheard audible the unknown possible. Within me is a cornucopia of
By I Am the Ocean 5 years ago in Poets
After I cried the colors of the world I lived in were infused with a new lucidity because of my tears. By their condensation
By Jim McFarlin5 years ago in Poets
I am a rainbow I am all the colors projected in the sky The words that follow, my explanation why I am blessed, I can see from my heart
By Erin Michelle5 years ago in Poets
This one goes out to all of my natural girls since before they said your curls was poppin'. Before the TV met the Wifi, you had barely just begun
By Mikhaella Norwood5 years ago in Poets
I choose Silver Silver means to be persistent, be consistent. Be yourself with no hesitant at least that’s what it says in my guidebook
By Taylor Bryant5 years ago in Poets
A hundred coloured dots upon a chart And I am lost at sea, cannot connect The constellations. “Find the number nine,” The school nurse softly pleads. I search in vain:
By Michael Sargood5 years ago in Poets
My eyes are the kind of blue, the kind you see every day. My hair is a certain brown - a color you expect to see. Sometimes it curls
By Timothy Mitchel Avitt5 years ago in Poets
Being gay Isn’t necessarily feeling gay I feel human, I feel real I feel color, I feel still Being gay Isn’t rainbows and unicorns
By Kristian Wiseman5 years ago in Poets
I choose Silver Silver means to be persistent, be consistent. Be yourself with No hesitant at least that’s what it says in my guidebook
Are you COLORFUL? Are you FUN? Do you spark SMILES? And love a little PUN? Then let me ask, "HUE are you?" Are you BRIGHT? Are you LIGHT? Do you soar like a COLORFUL KITE IN FLIGHT?
By Joy Baldoz5 years ago in Poets
What color is my skin? Doesn't matter. What color is my soul? I'm made of all colors I'm the pot of gold. At the end of my rainbow,
By Tiara Young5 years ago in Poets
I grew up in the sunshine Ran through dappled fields of gold I sometimes hid in meadows, But I did what I was told I was the floral princess
By Deborah Stokol5 years ago in Poets
