Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Breann 7d
This is the one, I whisper low,
Ink on the page with a steady glow.
My pulse is sure, my spirit proud,
I post it up, above the crowd.
Done.

Two days pass in silent scroll,
A single like—a softened toll.
My thoughts return, both sharp and terse:
Maybe this was my best… or worst.

Again I write, the spark feels dim,
The words fall out, a clumsy hymn.
I roll my eyes, ashamed to send
A piece I’d never recommend.
Done.

Two days pass—my phone alights,
The piece is trending, shared in flights.
The one I thought was shallow, weak,
Spoke truths another couldn’t speak.

The weight is held in different ways,
Some see the sun, some feel the haze.
What’s “best” is tied to where we are,
Some feel the storm, some chase the star.

So now I write with open hands,
No more demands or strict commands.
Each piece, a gift I can’t control,
May miss one heart and reach a soul.

And when I post, I don’t deride—
The worth’s not always mine to decide.
For passion’s voice, though sometimes low,
Still finds a place it’s meant to go.
Kyla May 20
no revenge
only a copy of the poems i wrote of my side of our story
and a bag of the food i’d bought for you
and my perfume on your hoodie, that i was wearing when you ended it
and a sense of loss that lingers
because you never asked to read anything i wrote /the hoodie she wore first /and the last, i hope?
Ali Hassan May 18
I was given a gift, a tender thing
A heart that knew the songs to sing.
So full of love, so soft, so true,
It held a cure the cold once knew.

It cost me more than I could pay,
Yet still, I chose to give that way.
To thrive, it needed hearts as kind,
With gentle hands and quiet minds.

I wandered far through souls and faces,
Through empty halls and crowded places,
To find a heart that dared to feel,
To break, not hide behind what’s real.

But all I found were sharpened minds,
With pride and reason intertwined.
They saw its cracks, they mocked its beat
Too soft to win, too quick to bleed.

Each time it met a colder flame,
It broke in ways I couldn’t name.
I tried to guard it, held it tight,
But it was born to lose that fight.

And then I saw, with aching eyes,
That I, too, judged it, cold and wise.
I weighed it not in love, but thought,
And killed the grace that can't be taught.

A gift too pure for minds so keen,
It dimmed where coldest thoughts had been
So in the dark, I dug a grave,
For all the love I couldn’t save.

And there it sleeps beneath my chest
A precious gift, laid down to rest.
Mothers are a gift.
They bear their burdens with such grace,
one would never know of their struggles.
They raise leaders, nurture our future,
and give endlessly,
all with a smile.
ap0calyps3 Apr 30
In our caskets,
Our cadavers they lay
the rain is pouring and the clouds are gray

Six feet under we'll rest
In heaven we're nothing but guests

Hell, our forever home
Our world, where everyone is alone

We die,
And a gift of salvation, we're blessed

In our caskets
Our cadavers they rest.
DanDoes Apr 23
What do I want to wear
when it’s cold?
Why, pajamas!

When you’re home all alone,
who’s your friend?
It’s pajamas.

How can you keep it loose?
Put caboose…
in pajamas!

Did you know that sometimes
they are made
out of llamas?

Oh they’re ever so soft
and cozy
Just like mommas!

So wear PJs with pride!
Know there’s no need to hide
the warm feelings inside

That you get
when you wear
your pajamas!
As much as this is a gift,
It is a curse all the same.
Speaking in the tongue of thought,
I seem to think it all,
And I want to speak it all.

Although I wish each time a star passes by,
I still lay silent.
Stolen from my chance to speak,
Is there a way to say this where it'll be heard,
All of it, not just the gems.
Poetry
Among all creatures in this world, a wonder to be told,
A creation of God, with a pure heart as gold.
With licks of affection, they snog without cease,
Their love and care, a beautiful masterpiece.

Though unable to speak, they gaze with intent,
Their eyes filled with love, a true sentiment.
Cute puppies they are, like babies they play,
In their joyful antics, they brighten our day.

Running and jumping, a sport they adore,
Yet tiredness finds them, they snort and they snore.
They listen to music, with a haul,
But anger can cause them to growl.

Slippers, shoes, a sock they like chewing
Inspecting thorough, through sniffing,
Boredom will find them, anxiety too,
And digging ensues, a task they always pursue.

With heads tilting sideways, they listen with glee,
Their innocence shining for everyone to see.
Through kisses they show their love, ever true,
Tail wagging wildly, in happiness they brew.

Barking and yawning, a language they speak,
Their care is unwavering, strong and unique.
They guard their loved ones from danger and strife,
A loyal companion, a treasure for life.

In this wonderful creation, a dog's gentle grace,
Reflects the divine in their furry embrace.
Cherish these creatures, so loyal and kind,
A gift from above, in their love we find.

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
Next page