Isn’t it strange, my yearning for the yolk of an egg, As a child, it was breakfast’s cherished ache. Now, it’s my father I miss,
By Nazl2 years ago in Poets
In summer's embrace, ripe and sweet, Watermelons, a juicy treat. Their verdant skin hides treasures deep, Beneath the sun, their secrets keep.
By zulfi bux2 years ago in Poets
In the nursery of life, we track upon stones, Each stage an excursion, every way our own. Through fields of chuckling, and valleys of tears,
In domains past our human sight, Where time breaks up in unending flight, A spirit withdraws, its process turned, In cycles tremendous, its course started.
when having what you love means you don't get to feel it sacrificially disreciprocal, ultimately liminal to reconcile requires conflict as a current condition
By ⸘jason alan‽2 years ago in Poets
What you read, as the text of letters. what you witness, as scenic images, what you enjoy, as glamorous clips.. what you enjoy on digital media,
By P.A.Vinura Jayasanka2 years ago in Poets
let's feel to that moan of mine who snatched away The heat of my life . Heat :- respect - respect
By Suraj poetry plus 2 years ago in Poets
“You’re a pretty big wheel, ain’t you?” my grandfather asks. Words tossed my way from a green armchair in the dark corner of the front room
By F Cade Swanson2 years ago in Poets
Have you ever tried a corned beef fritter? I know it’s quite a very strange request. If you’ve never had a corned beef fritter.
By D-Donohoe2 years ago in Poets
Midwest summers under a hot sun, rolling in the grass, dandelions held under chins to see who liked butter (a reflection proved it).
By Andrea Corwin 2 years ago in Poets
Toast bread and water? That's prisoner food Oh but toast bread and water tastes so mighty good right after class when the school bell would ring
By M. Lee2 years ago in Poets
Standing amongst the carnage in pure gloom A sly smile hearing the family’s silent screams within the room His whispers continue to linger, almost a poison in her mind
By Forever Midnight2 years ago in Poets
