Now you're gone I can no longer message you. Now you're gone I can no longer speak to you. Now you're gone I can no longer laugh with you.
By Denise Larkin2 years ago in Poets
The world unfurls in shades of stark, A canvas painted after dark. Not absence of color, but a choice, To see in shadows, hear in noise.
By Moharif Yulianto2 years ago in Poets
The supports are rotting. I feel every creak and pop, A symphony of decrepitude, Joints unreliable and failing. It's harder to arise each morning,
By Catsidhe2 years ago in Poets
In the grand book of life, each page holds a tale, A story unique, where each soul sets sail. We're the main characters, in our own spotlight,
By Mia Dwi Arifiyanti2 years ago in Poets
A mom casts her goals into the ocean; we, the words sent bobbing in the direction of the sun, the eggs of stone,
By Kamal O. Touhami2 years ago in Poets
It has been five years since I have been estranged from my family, My dad is aging and has a progressive lung disease. He was magnificent in this world to his peers,
By Sid Aaron Hirji2 years ago in Poets
The sun dips low, a fiery, fading ember, Casting long shadows, a day-ending reminder. We stand and watch, the twilight's gentle sigh,
The ideal man, a concept spun in dreams, Not sculpted features, but of noble themes. No chiseled jaw, nor eyes of piercing blue,
In whispered dreams, where shadows softly creep, A vision forms, a girl I long to keep. Not carved from marble, nor a painted face,
The leaves, once vibrant, don their hues of red, A mournful symphony, summer's song now dead. A chill wind whispers secrets through the trees,
In realms unseen, where whispers weave a song, Eight deities to whom the ages belong. Not carved in stone, nor bound by mortal hand,
Is the beauty of realism a facet of truth or the prescribed norm of society? The beauty of the strides reckons itself like the clock work's step
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
