Your brand of love is wasted on me; rough and bitter, yuck, and I don't think I want that i my coffee. For every heart, a connoisseur, maybe.
By Sherylene Shayabout 5 hours ago in Poets
RUN: You put a brick inside my mouth and threw me into the ground, hoping I would never come around again. You put a sickle around my neck and prayed to god that I stay dead. But I'm awake and I remember everything.
By Sherylene Shayabout 13 hours ago in Poets
A simple goodbye, a rule we defy, a faith that we keep and the ones we let die. A knock on the door from a friend or a foe—
Meet you there, in those moments, when hours and minutes dissolve into the echoes of the vast chambers of the infinite.
Can you believe such sweet delights? Fields of flowers in colors bright, painting the day and kissing the night. Through will and might, in myriad ways,
Contrary to popular belief, Knowledge ISN'T power. It's a flint, not the flame. Just a tool on the shelf, That, by itself, changes nothing.
By Sherylene Shayabout 14 hours ago in Poets
The moon that night was a work of art; A perfect half of light and dark that rose at noon and, for hours after that, shared the heavens with the sun.
