Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.
seventeen a significant measure of years,but when it's in stone, a curse let's run the numbers: twenty-fourteenheight five foot fiveage twenty-threeand weight two hundred and thirty-three pounds
By Penny Gotch8 years ago in Poets
At once, I thought I didn't know them. A stranger amongst a stranger crowd. I found myself a shy little fly amidst an array of lightning bugs.
By Jenisa de Castro8 years ago in Poets
I've heard many times You're way too young What have you lived through? They laugh in my face and say you'll fall on your chin, Boo
By Blargha blarg8 years ago in Poets
It's okay to not know where we are headed And to not know what to do. What you've learned from experience is what you don't want
By Christine Lopez8 years ago in Poets
You say you know me But when's the last time before this moment you told me that? Couldn't tell me off the top of your head
I wonder if you're fine now, And everything's alright. I wonder if your smile came back, And you stuck around to fight. I wonder if you realize,
By Alex A.8 years ago in Poets
Feel the tingling and the echoes of the earth Beneath your feet As you chase a thousand sunsets Slightly turn your head back towards the people that you love
By Cyd Macapagal8 years ago in Poets
Just a look from you Puts me in a place like paradise You share your vibes and while I may receive them I don't know how to feel
Wake up earlier and watch the sunrise. Pet more dogs. Read more books. Smile at strangers. Write in your journal more. Give more compliments.
By Rachel Maria8 years ago in Poets
I confess! I know how to play the piano. My ears desiring, when my fingers touch white & black keys. Together — making a savory soul dance.
By ShondaWho8 years ago in Poets
Glistening eyes Peer through the dew-damp window From the dusty Cozy cottage Where in the warm candlelight Nostalgia floats like a silent haze
By Jade Morris8 years ago in Poets
we come to terms as people merely eating our own fecal living in society and the sinners of sobriety become comfortable and complacent,
By b. h.8 years ago in Poets
