Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Poets paint with words.
Yet sometimes are overwhelmed,
by complexities.
Time ripped at the seams.
Still you can try your hardest,
realize your dreams.
He was a rebel.
She was bashful in her ways.
Yet they shared a style.
The sound of your voice.
It guides me through the darkness.
To another time.
I have my tattoos.
In the form of scars I wear.
They tell my story.
I've humility.
Put my foot into my mouth.
It seemed quite the fit.
Please will the owner,
of the mean practical joke,
move your schtick aside.
Next page