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How Do You Change When You Don’t Know Where to Start
How Do You Change When You Don’t Know Where to Start I stand on the edge of a moment, wondering which way to turn, the days roll by like a repeating song,
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
God Walked Beside the Blind Man
God Walked Beside the Blind Man He lived in silent shadows, no sunrise touched his eyes. His nights were long and endless,
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
The goal machine of football . AI-Generated.
1. The Goal Machine ⚽ Cristiano Ronaldo is the all-time top scorer in men’s football history, surpassing 850 career goals. His ability to score in almost every way—left foot, right foot, headers, free kicks, penalties, long shots—makes him one of the most complete forwards ever.
By Mudasir Hakeemi 3 months ago in Poets
Rise, Ye Dead!
Thrice the graveyard’s bell hath knell’d,  Thrice the corpse from earth rebell’d,  Bones do rattle, coffins quake,  Sleepers in the ground awake!
By Christian Bass3 months ago in Poets
Your Name on the Leaf on heavens tree
Your Name on the Leaf on heavens tree Each life is a leaf on heavens tree, When the leaf falls the angels collect, And your time on earth is done,
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
I Knew He Was a Weirdo by the Way He Eats His Toast
I Knew He Was a Weirdo by the Way He Eats His Toast In the quiet dawn, he stands, a mystery at the table, His toast arrives, and it’s not quite stable.
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
Normal
I want to feel normal again Not to go back where we began But the ephemeral euphoric place between The then and now The only question is
By Atomic Historian3 months ago in Poets
Forever more and evermore:
You are my love, I hold so dear... I love you so, always and forever my darling boy... my precious boy, I see you clear mine and always
By Cryptic Edwards3 months ago in Poets
Could Write A Million Words
Could Write A Million Words I could fill the night with ink, spill the sky with thought and fire, but even then my heart would whisper,
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
What My Poetry Means to Me
What My Poetry Means to Me It is the breath I never speak aloud, a whisper that hides behind my eyes, a place where the world softens,
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
Help, My Husband’s Been Stolen
Help, My Husband’s Been Stolen The morning comes slow. I wake alone. Sunlight spills across chairs. I remember. His shoes by the door,
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
Watching Butterflies
Watching Butterflies The sun leans low across the garden, shadows stretch and yawn. A gentle wind stirs leaves, soft whispers through branches and flowers.
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets