Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Autumn orange has arrived in the spreading tones and colours of all kinds from yellow red golden beige into the brown and green converted into the golden dust of the city morning light beautiful autumn time and I am feeling like I want to live and walk and travel dancing all the time with my heart and soul inside the city autumn warmth
By Darkosabout a year ago in Poets
‘Till the day on early December .. the winter season has begun.. The breeze began to blow— it flows the cool, so deeply into my soul..
By Meghan LeVaughn about a year ago in Poets
Carefully collecting in the corners of the shelves piles the dust- -exclusively existing as a reminder of abandonment. This is accompanied by a raging silence-
By BrettNotGregabout a year ago in Poets
the beauty of the holidays is growing up to realize the magic i felt as a child was created by the adults in my life it was my parents bundling us in the car,
By Portgas D. Sara (they/them)about a year ago in Poets
A frigid drowning fills the air in our bodies by morning. Neighbors watch over waterways as mourning neighbors still. We wait
By Corvusabout a year ago in Poets
Fields of light… And what do they look like anyways? Rows, bandwidths of flowers, Swaying in a rainbow colored breeze?
By Sabayo Matikuabout a year ago in Poets
The old Chair The chair by the window is empty now, No one sits on it, It’s battered, dirty, and torn. Grandad used to sit in it,
By Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
What did you do wrong? Where are you not good enough? What you should really try to find out, It’s not someone who can’t give you happiness,
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
Frozen looking in, fragile looking out Devouring a nation's history with dirty, pensive doubt From my window I see purple, a hue from red and blue
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)about a year ago in Poets
Write to inspire. Write with the power of the spoken word to take all of your readers higher. When the pen hits the paper the fear of failure becomes vapor.
By Joe Pattersonabout a year ago in Poets
Did I lose my childhood the day I stopped wondering about the world? Did I lose my childhood the day I unabashedly gave up my hobbies and started fulfilling responsibilities without anyone's permission?
By Karan w. about a year ago in Poets
Wasted wilted wishes broken penny promises Moonlight make believing on what if's and could have Beens Precious misspent moments
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout a year ago in Poets
