There are two types of murder I can think of: one is outright murder in of itself, and the second is a more subtle variation,
By Anon12 months ago in Poets
As you lay your head upon your berth Tossing and turning in your bunk Your body fighting off blessed slumber Clear your mind from the day’s stress
By Mother Combs12 months ago in Poets
Ashes of My Words He burned my poetry, all 180 poems, gone each one a thread I wrote from the tender age of 11 to the fragile woman of 17.
By Marie381Uk 12 months ago in Poets
The Spirit’s Journey This poem reflects the journey of the soul, from spiritual beginnings, through material distractions, and back to spiritual wisdom in old age.
By Katie L. Kashan12 months ago in Poets
I dream of a land where voices shine like sunlight, where truth rises with the dawn, stretching across every street, every city,
By T. E. Door12 months ago in Poets
Do You See Us Now? They called her a liar, spat in her face with gavel and grin, let the wolves circle— and you? You sat there, nodding,
Your destiny is therefore your chance. In the judgment of fate so they say when bad things befalls them. When something goes well for you, you say it is by chance or luck.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing12 months ago in Poets
Shall I compare thee to a springtime bloom? Thou art more lovely and of subtler grace. Rough winds may shake the buds that April womb,
By Farhad Hossen Fahim12 months ago in Poets
Silence– I can't stand it... and neither, can I sit in it‐ when my environment is quiet, this space behind my eyes becomes the exact opposite.
By Josh Morgan12 months ago in Poets
I have a restless guide that speaks without words, It wrestles with the deeds of the day, and dreams of the night, Demanding some peace, yet keeping all my sleep at bay,
By R0ME012 months ago in Poets
I stepped out into the snow today, felt the cold crawl up to my ankles, and walked to the mailbox. I turned to see my footprints pressed deep.
By Amber Allehoff12 months ago in Poets
the light let in today, from fire in the distance. changing what i see. the shades of the world around me. the ombre of i's, where my eyes cast brightly. shade won't show without a solid surface to be seen on.
By ⸘jason alan‽12 months ago in Poets
