Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
moon man Feb 2020
He goes through women like a food critic goes through a restaurant menu, one after another they were all flings and one night stands. But as his loneliness grows evermore, he comes to realize that one day he wouldn't want to give up a woman that fits all of his desires. That one day Cupid will catch up to him and lock the shackles of love to his ankles. He laughs it off as he orders another drink. Then she walks in, and he can feel those shackles close around tighter.
This is the third and final poem of a three poem project that I've been working on to celebrate the people of Valentine's day. This poem is dedicated to all the bachelors that were finally caught by cupid's arrow.
moon man Feb 2020
He watches His calendar, seeing the day of love tick ever so closer. Yet another year without a significant other, He thinks to himself. But one day, He'll win a woman's heart with his charisma and charm. All He has to do is let Fate spindle its wire of time and let that woman stumble into his life.
This is the second poem of a three poem project that I've been working on to not only celebrate Valentine's Day, but also the people of Valentine's day. This poem is dedicated to all the hopeless romantics who still look for their better halves.
moon man Feb 2020
They confide in one another, wishing for time to stop so that they may have the world to themselves. So that their personal lives don't tear them apart from each other's loving arms. Then, the day finally comes where the flow of time is at their feet. They spend their blessing learning about one another. As time flows on, they decide to let the world continue around them as they depart with a final kiss under the rising moon.
This is the first of the three poem project I've been working on for Valentine's day about the three different people of Valentine's day. the first one to represent the couples of this day
moon man Feb 2020
He stares at the blank page of his notebook, wondering what he should write about next. As he stares into the blank page, he suddenly gets an idea and opens the curtains of his window to reveal the moon shining brightly at him. He reaches out and grabs at the moonbeams as he wakes up in the same position where he started. Filled with the inspiration of moonbeams and empty pages waiting to be written on, he grabs his pen and starts spindling poetry.
This poem is definitely a bit self-reflected on its writer (me, duh) but I felt that the sudden uprisings in my moon-related poetry needed a poem of its own
moon man Feb 2020
They stare at me, with questioning eyes. They wonder why I always look so tired, but in reality, I've never felt better. Last night I was able to speak with you again, tell you of my troubles and bathe in your light. They will never understand but that doesn't matter, for as long as I have you. I can handle the waking world just to have another chance to enjoy your company in a state of reality I don't belong in.
This is a little poem that's more personal than most of my original works, considering that I recently accepted the fact that I love the moon
moon man Feb 2020
I look at the friends I made in my life and come to realize how time has changed us, Some of us would be proud of who we've become while others would've never expected the path they took. We've all grown to see each other as a family of sorts, but only I have noticed the clock ticking away at the corner of my eye. Day after day, the clock becomes louder until I realize that the clock is a signal, and that signal is when I'm supposed to catch the last train home
this is a little poem I made about my friend group at school and how, over the three years we've hung out and grown, started to grow apart to follow our own paths.
moon man Feb 2020
A beam of light, I can see. Shining brightly across the sea. Then I see Her, in a torn white dress. Slowly climbing with the stars. She tries to hide her damaged face but I encourage her that it's part of her beauty. As a thank you for letting her shine with all her flaws, she tells me of the things she's seen back in a time when her face was smooth and craterless. And I sit with her and listen to her stories. Then comes the time for her to climb down, but she promises to be back, and I promised to be there waiting.
My first midnight poetry post that I tried...it wouldn't make sense if I didn't make it about lady moon
Next page