Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2020
The mind
Is fertile

Any age
One can learn
Genre: Minimalist
Theme: Enroll
Traveler Jul 2020
Let me be your middle man
In-between your sheets of lust
Inflamed in ****** passions
The cheater that you trust

Let me show you hidden stars
Your flourishing garden awaits
In the darkness of your backyard
Let us meet your fate

Plaint me in your secret garden
In the season of your fertile soil
I'll always sprout back again
My nature can be quite loyal
Traveler Tim
Fireflies May 2020
There was a time when she cared
To satisfy any need of yours, she was prepared
You gave her just enough to stay
And stay she did everyday
There was a glimmer of hope that she will receive love back
Every song related back to you, every soundtrack
One day, 3 am at night she laid there
Room dark, status of you being online a glare
She watched it switch offline, realising you never replied
Finally it ******* hit her that to be her lover you were never qualified
Males are only useful if they are fertile
Men are trash was not just a insta post, it became a lifestyle
If liking men was a choice
Trust me when i say i would have yeeted the boys.
So sick of tired of men that i drafted out a whole poem. Enjoy ;)
LC Apr 2020
the tree grew in rocky soil -
now its fruit is decaying.
its seeds fell into
the same rocky soil,
sprouting into trees
with the same decaying fruit.

these trees feel the decay.
they know to spread their seeds
where the soil is fertile.
and the resulting trees
will bear ripe fruits
for future generations.
#escapril day 16!
darling, don’t bother buying roses
uprooted, torn from the fertile, nourishing earth
they only wither away, glazed with the mourning dew
another bus-ride write. again, not my best... i’ll prolly post again in a couple of weeks, midterms are coming up. it always made me sad when my dad bought my mom flowers. once, they were alight with life, the truest beauty. now confined to a clear water-filled vase, on display for the world, only to die days later. ty for reading. im going to try and stay away from  angsty love poems for my next couple of poems, maybe something happier ;)

^^quick note: mourning refers to tears and is a play on the word morning~
Expectations erodes fertile soil
Fertile is the land of acceptance
Just a thought!!
Next page