Top Stories
Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
The Statistic
I can’t move today. Why is this cycle so vicious? Every potentially meaningful moment is promptly thrown away. Will I be a statistic?
BrettNotGregPublished a day ago in PoetsI'm Fire!
It’s not about bad hair but bad air. I breathe fire you breathe rain. Dousing water on my dreams sending my hopes into steam!
Cynthia FieldsPublished 4 days ago in PoetsI Hate When People Ask About You
I hate when people ask about you As if your pain is mine to share. You’re tougher than I’ll ever be, But the heartache is yours to bare.
Darby S. FisherPublished 6 days ago in PoetsWounded Soul
I moan all day I moan all night Just like cats after a fight ---- My claws are strong My claws run deep They tend to hurt most in my sleep
G. A. BoteroPublished 5 days ago in PoetsMay The Fourth Be With You
Introduction This is just a silly villanelle for today May 4th, also known as Star Wars Day. The music is the "Star Wars Theme" by Big Daddy who you can read more about here:
Mike Singleton - MikeydredPublished 3 days ago in Poetsdreaming
~ Dad set your paintings ablaze on a Thursday, piled in a heap of rubble and ruin, his gruff tenor thick with tears as he struck the match. I was furious. With him, with you, with
Heather HublerPublished 4 days ago in PoetsSwitch Places
My home Is your home You once told me So I made it my own. But today, Our lives Have switched. This princess, Who left the castle of her parents
Manisha DhalaniPublished 4 days ago in PoetsIn It
If I make it that far, you can pose the question; to ask me in December is just a suggestion. * If I ask you to tell me more,
Kendall DefoePublished 7 days ago in PoetsDon't wait till the end...
Ask me in December, when the trees lose their green, the birds fly far away, and the forests fall asleep. Ask me, when no one's around
Distance
Distance What is the distance between you and me? Is it beliefs, an island or the sea, Distance is what we create through the passage of experiences, emotions or transparency, or not as the case maybe.
Robert RawsonPublished 7 days ago in Poetswe all slum it in the end
we all slum it in the end even when we turn dirt to gold refuse to do what we're told turn gold to dirt refuse to do
Paul StewartPublished 9 days ago in Poetsyour vodka and spite.
I have cut my hands On the silhouette of your name For a year now ❀ You got my letter My question My plea Fed it to the fire