My children are loving. My heart does soar. They wait for me to come home. I am late. They greet me with their hugs right at the door.
By Elliott Robertsonabout a month ago in Poets
She didn’t die. But she did not wake. Born sleeping, she did not cry. I wracked my brain, continuously asking, “why?!”
By H C Banksabout a month ago in Poets
Green and grey—the colors of your beautiful eyes; a softness I remember, though now our vows have died. I kept my ring; you tossed yours in the river dividing sides.
By Mannix Dunnabout a month ago in Poets
I keep reaching for the girl she was before the world broke her open again. The past returns in splinters, small enough to pierce but not to name.
By Stacey Mataxis Whitlow (SMW)about a month ago in Poets
It's not my fault I was born so old, or yours for being guileless, easy to adore- but jealousy's a torch that burns my heart cold.
By Raistlin Allenabout a month ago in Poets
The joy of life--this God asks me to sense. I've always cursed my life for being bleak. I've denied world of my soul's effulgence.
My pen hovers o’er paper as white as the snow, But my mind is a captive, my heart has been bound. Worlds slip through my fingers that I’ll never know.
By M. A. Mehan about a month ago in Poets
The love that wouldn’t leave my lips leaves me breathless I see the weight of the unspoken as you walk away I’d never breathe again were it not for the heaving of the breathless
By Kimberly Washingtonabout a month ago in Poets
Introduction Hi! My first post, trying for the Villanelle of Regret challenge. I wrote this a while ago in the eyes of my grandmother. Do enjoy!
By Michelle Nabout a month ago in Poets
Oh how I long to be warmed by the sun, to know he is my brother, through and through. May I sense the sun’s presence when day’s done.
in this square of regret I see procrastination, I feel less than it should be, I have yet to reach my “destination”, Yet I haven’t stepped my foot out like I need,
By Rachael Frazierabout a month ago in Poets
Where shadows bloom by thoughts that won’t let go, I chase the traces of a ghosted name, A haunting ache that time cannot outgrow.
By Tim Carmichaelabout a month ago in Poets
