Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.
When the plant is dying give it nutrient When the funds are low no more's to be spent If you're feeling a little on the heavy side
By Garvin Raye8 years ago in Poets
For all the mountains stories we have written together For the light of the bonfire behind the smile of tired faces For all the laughter in the tent that we share to the starlight
By E. NATASHA8 years ago in Poets
Talk to me. Words. Eyes. Heart. And if all that fails. Write. Draw. Paint. And if all that fails. Scream. Cry. Punch the cushions —
By Chloe Urquhart8 years ago in Poets
My heart is like a largest marble slab. Heavy... Each day I feel it swing down in my stomach. Feeling it hit every organ with each beat of my heart.
By Darcy Tompkins8 years ago in Poets
She used to play with dolls and toys then later searched to play with boys her heart broke, into the heart came a whole empty, broken unable to find a place to call home
By Mina Garcia8 years ago in Poets
We laugh, share and play together As if the world is the most beautiful little squares in dream We never think how our future will be
Years For years she has been his rock, his undying support, his home. Grateful? No, that he is not. He does not reciprocate, appreciate, or compensate her for the love and energy she has given.
By Jessica Burden8 years ago in Poets
Live and let live. Coexist with those who have harmed you. Stop bleeding from tiny daggers shot your way. Develop thicker skin and brush it off like nothing.
By Amanda Zylstra8 years ago in Poets
Is it buried; in the footprints of pristine snow? Or hidden; in the ebony wings of a crow? Is it found; in the smile of a newborn child?
By Mark Allison8 years ago in Poets
Under the hammer Eyes are blind Where is the truth We refuse to find In front of your face The mask you're wearing Was put there by another
By Rozzie Mozzie8 years ago in Poets
Before you fall asleep, to silence the mind The connection doesn't care about the law of the land Imagination keeps running wild behind the night blanket
It is this tragedy that binds me. All of these things that remind me Of a wasted youth of dreams. A life so bitter sweet,
By A.C. Zempleni8 years ago in Poets
