While I rot for relish singing soporific ballads, A tune rings a mile of salient sorrow, I’m gone> to embark on the path of rapscallions.
By Unknown Sonrose2 years ago in Poets
To have empathy is to draw others to you like a butterfly to honey’s nectar. Not all are born with this compassionate gene.
By Daphsam2 years ago in Poets
How often I wish I were the wind blown off to a place far, far away Landing unweathered, alas thickened skinned 🌴 often, I reflect on when I've sinned
By Marilyn Glover2 years ago in Poets
I was in my room when I lost my mind, Like most of my dreams I waited to wake up and die, But I never did and I think it’s a luxury I’ll never find.
By Katherine Bodger2 years ago in Poets
Through a working day into a snowy slippery night The roads where slick gleaming off the moonlight Shimmering my way forward i lost direction
By Blake Robert2 years ago in Poets
Real men do cry. Saying “real men don’t cry” has always been one of the biggest lies. Real men do cry. This notion isn’t always appealing so men always resort to hiding our feelings.
By Joe Patterson2 years ago in Poets
Was it all in my head? You've left me feeling so confused. Is there someone else you want instead? What did you think once my messages were read?
By Hailey Marchand-Nazzaro2 years ago in Poets
Alexandra was always drowning in An ocean of her relentless weeping. Poor child. Will this sorrow ever end? Alexandra had constantly fallen
By Cat the Autist2 years ago in Poets
Keep out the light or hold the light inside, Folded and falling, tethered by a string; Eyes open, in the darkness, where I hide.
By Jamie LeFebvre 2 years ago in Poets
Oh Christ, I'm fucking hungry For the cigarette days full of black coffee, Tiny little jeans, and horrid aftershave When I was a nail-bitten mess
By Silver Daux2 years ago in Poets
I am dressed for the funeral of my self-respect black from head to toe except the scarf to hide the bruises of your love
By TheSpinstress 2 years ago in Poets
Mind scattered, no resting place in sight. Insides reeking of stress, nights shorter and shorter, longer and longer.
By Andie Emerson2 years ago in Poets
