They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
My father used to lend me his precious books. Now he gives them to me, as gifts. It is unspoken, but we both know why.
By Michael McIntosh9 years ago in Poets
Alone. Broken. Lost. I'm physically present, I can feel the air against my cheeks, see the frosty mountain peaks, but my heart is hollow and dark as a cave.
By Cat Jennings9 years ago in Poets
Taken in the direction of down. Have I any choice if my heart is bound? So we’re on our way to hell. You didn’t think I’d take it so well.
By Paul Crocker9 years ago in Poets
If we hadn't of gone out, this wouldn't have happened. The bastard who dropped the needle, I'd beat the crap out of them.
Not all my brothers are biological. Only after many years spent together did we come to know each other as brothers rather than just close friends. Over the course of that time each of us hurt the others with careless insults and mean-spirited actions. Almost always when we tried to have fun we were only downing ourselves in alcohol and drugs trying desperately to rid ourselves of the unpleasantness of our exceedingly needful lives. From suffering together, the bonds of our brotherhood were forged. There were never any others for which I ever have felt such an affinity. No amount of time or space will ever separate us. At the start, there were four of us. Each of our mothers knew us as their sons and they were proud. Now only two remain. We carry on in honor and for reverence of our counter parts. There was a time when that family lived chiefly on the sustenance of love for one another and all other things were secondary. Those days are gone. Only my brothers and I remain loyal to each other unwavering even in death. The state of being alive is momentary. Love is eternities food. My brothers know who they are. I cherish them so that I refuse to give up their names. There is nothing I have or will ever gain from this God forsaken place we called home more valuable than them.
By Thomas E9 years ago in Poets
Here lies the history of war. A devastation behind every door. Battle scenes from yesterday. Know exactly when to play. The battlefield is covered in bloody bones.
As he passes, the man with three children and the tired wife rolls his eyes at me. Briefly, we connect. His look says simply:
UNFAITHFUL AND FULL OF LIES, MANY TIMES TELLING THEM LOOKING DEAD IN MY EYES, ALL I EVER WANTED FROM YOU WAS YOUR UNCONDITIONAL LOVE,
By K9 years ago in Poets
It’s so hard to think right now, All I can do is use all my energy to stop myself from crying. Because the last time I saw him,
By Michelle Jacques9 years ago in Poets
When going back to the hospital to register for my surgery the other day, I was hurt, hurt very deep. I had a severe anxiety attack. It happened as we
By Crystal Korpan9 years ago in Poets
I see life through newborn eyes. I can sense if something lives or dies. It feels like such a burden. I don't want this overwhelming sensation to worsen.
I wanna make you something that comes from the heart, must be why everything I make is in pieces n falling apart, you will always be the one to light up my life,
By Bray Maelzer9 years ago in Poets
