You are going to die, and your hair is going to grow through the dirt with the roots. But here you are, worried about whether or not your cheeks are rouged,
By Sara Wynnabout a year ago in Poets
I used to shrink beneath their gaze, Each label they flung a chain to my days. “Too much,” they murmured, “too scattered, too weak,”
By SP about a year ago in Poets
Back and fro, Higher and higher, Until her thoughts and fears, are a little quieter, But they never get silenced, They only grow louder,
By Carol Ann Townendabout a year ago in Poets
Dust Bunnies Frolic Dark Cobweb Festooned Corners Of My Haunted Mind Nuggets Left Behind Remembrance Tickles Nostrils
By Andrew C McDonaldabout a year ago in Poets
The beginning is the end, And the end is the beginning. You are born, you live, and then you die— That's it. People worry about the end, Forgetting the middle, The important part.
By Akîabout a year ago in Poets
I stood at the beach, waiting, For a wave strong enough To sweep me, carry me away. Time went by. Waves passed by. But none were enough to sweep me,
pulling up my eyelids dragging these old bones out of bed plenty of padding guarding my ribs before you know it I'll be dead
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
You will find your own strengths and do your best to develop them to the best of your ability. You like your strengths and believe that one day you will be seen by a great person.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
The Sadness in Her Eyes The sadness in her eyes tells a tale of years of betrayal, hurt, and unspoken fears. She gave her kindness,
By Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Let Go To Transmute 🚘 Dog’s ears, Out the left window of The back-seat, Flapping in the warm breeze of A summer’s day
By Grz Colmabout a year ago in Poets
A single drop fell from the sky, Its voice too soft to amplify. No thunder roared, no tempest came, Yet in its fall, it left a name.
By Davescalesabout a year ago in Poets
I’ve been weak, trembling as we speak. I lost my way, never once questioning what they’d say. Against all odds- I rose to the cause, even before I could see the hell laid out before me.
By Briana Maeabout a year ago in Poets
