Which is the real me The one they see Or the one I see when you’re looking at me Distorted images in my mind Having never known what I look like to the world
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Here I sit, In a room filled with the echoes of the day, Where the world's noise fades, And all that's left is this moment,
By RKabout a year ago in Poets
Sitting here In silent isolation. Waiting. Longing for your return Expecting a call from you everyday Never more shall I hear your beautiful voice
The precipice of poetry that seeks redemption Callous whispers that uproar the fear in my mind, Bounty tales of my existence may cease to be left behind.
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets
On a blanket of sunlit grass, I lay my thoughts down slow and fast, In the warmth of the day, I bask, Yet, there’s a longing I dare not ask.
By Mark2 years ago in Poets
In the quest for the ebb and flow, In the hammered wheels of agility and the art of being slow. The due course of nature strides in its crafty demeanour,
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
This hauntingly daunting feeling The unreality of watching my dreams unfold before my eyes Watching them rip off their disguise
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
The obliteration of alliteration Waiting for liberation Through visitation Living in stagnation The harsh realities of our society
The Fog of War We stand on ceremonies to sleep through the night Sable skies alight With fireworks in flight.
By Chris Z2 years ago in Poets
Where does the trash go Down into the depths Or off to the shallows We will never know It leaves our home for the curb
Is an Independent Life Good? In the quest for freedom's grace, We seek the path with space to trace, A life unbound by ties of old,
By Bal IKBAL2 years ago in Poets
The end of one world Is the beginning of another Like a child Slipping from its mother Life is a journey Of yearning We used to live
