Drips off my bones… like the cause of this leak has root inside generation lies Someone said that historical half-truths don't break down well
By The Dani Writerabout a year ago in Poets
Shells: used as shields to disguise when I am In retreat. Camouflaging the remnants Love leaves behind when it Evolves into
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
She sat in her car and cried at the Intersection of Hamilton and Cross, the traffic lining up behind her. It was the busiest and most
By kpabout a year ago in Poets
Living wisely in possession of one’s own schedule, having an income, and a goal in life, and always having something that one looks forward to in the future is the best life for a person. "
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
In the quest for the ebb and flow, In the hammered wheels of agility and the art of being slow. The due course of nature strides in its crafty demeanour,
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets
She breathes stillness in the early hours of dawn and late hours of dusk listening to my heartbeat elegant and enchanting
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
You should know that Truth surfaces like oil on water And you won’t achieve much With a greasy heart Slippery hands
By Diana C.about a year ago in Poets
sad girl hours. isolation never looked better on me, especially after the night’s tender air turns cool and quiet and
By Sam Eliza Greenabout a year ago in Poets
Slumber under the starry sky. It illuminates, like languished eyes, nearing the comfort of careful empathy in the echoless.
Sadly I scribble away Insignificant words filling the page Lead particles from broken pencils Eroding away each day Never a victory claimed
By Kenneth cruzabout a year ago in Poets
Waking up to multiple messages Of "we don't want you anymore" Not in those words, of course. For years, I've been writing
By Manisha Dhalaniabout a year ago in Poets
Sometimes you come to mind in the quiet of the day - those long or short moments when I see a flash of you. Everything reminds me of you, some days.
By Heather Scottabout a year ago in Poets
