I question if I even know what love is. Because love can’t possibly feel like this. If it were up to me I’d chase you,
By Natasha Collazo2 years ago in Poets
The mould of - inside - is not the - you see outside of - The - of me - me is the - me the me I - to be The mould of - inside me is the hidden me, that wants -
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
Thanks to Poppy again for raising another challenge to get us Vocal people thinking and creating. You can read about this challenge here:
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Poets
I am not you my skin is black i am reminded of it everyday as i pass on the streets of this developed country yes they look at me and whisper of my skin colour
By MARIJK2 years ago in Poets
From the east he roams Having never found a home of his own Always dragging his stone with him Wherever he goes it goes
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Bitter greens Slithering unseen Through my dreams A strenuous subcutaneous existence Complaisance in a crime of the mind
Listening to slow jams in other languages I don’t speak their language But they hear all that languishes in my heart They cut through the pain
The atrocious contradiction of existence How ironically does existence glare at our agony Drawing its muse in the hours of our ecstasy
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
1. Sultry and rare in richness, thickness and taste Strut, I strut and swish from the pertness of my fine fine ass Walk filled with My ebony build and proud to display in every which way
By Andrew Little2 years ago in Poets
I don’t know what this is about It is the worst poem Without a doubt In my mind To be alone can be sublime But to feel alone
There is a scar on my heart’s ears It’s from all the years of abuse I got used to It makes it hard to hear when someone says
In forests deep where sunlight plays, Nature orchestrates its grand ballet. The rustle of leaves, a gentle sway, A timeless dance, night to day.
By Ashiii2 years ago in Poets
