Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.
“We colour the world. We are shades between the lines, Lines which we have drawn.” The challenge was for a poem, 100-200 words. A poem to evoke and challenge, open eyes, paint a new picture of the world for others to see.
By Bec Lougheed5 years ago in Poets
It’s freeing up here, looking right then left at two groups who both swear they’re right. In a world of black and white,
By Rieneke Helder5 years ago in Poets
Black windows black walls, Oh, the corners feel so empty. As I sit here with my eyes closed, I see the dark outer space running in a spree of galaxies.
By Kayla John5 years ago in Poets
The way I walk is what people see, my choice of purple that shows my royalty. The suggestive taste of different hues, is sometimes noticed with my choices of blues.
By Terri Jones5 years ago in Poets
Black The first thing we don’t see and the last thing we don’t see Black holds all the colours of our lives lived and lives yet to live
By Lisa Willen5 years ago in Poets
I. I stay behind for a while consumed raised on hyacinth peaks of the moment who uses her autopsy record hysteria means attracting
By Andreea Felciuc5 years ago in Poets
Be still my soul and wait For a peace that is not to come I am not kidding in the least My soul would never stand to wait
By Joseph D Hamilton5 years ago in Poets
16,558 days since September 18th, 1975 16 breaths per minute 960 breaths an hour 23,040 breaths a day 381,496,320 breathes in 45 years
I have been searching maybe more like lurking cease the stagnation allow for admiration of beautiful life no need for strife
By Maximino Rodriguez5 years ago in Poets
I'm missing home on this cold winter day And I'd like to return more than words can say But alas I cannot now and not ever
The morning sun emerging gifted the rich sky a burgundy hue, Marking the start of the day my soul has been envisioning for what feels like eternity,
By ruby emmott5 years ago in Poets
Writing poems about the colors you love, is just dull and just nostalgic enough, if you isolate gray thereof, and recall with closed eyes the confusion, all of.
By Aryan Dhar5 years ago in Poets
