Trauma is the spice of life It’s what makes the mundane enjoyable No matter how horrible It’s better being here than there
By Atomic Historian10 months ago in Poets
In the quiet hum of the breaking day, Where shadows linger, yet fade away, I felt the touch of something new, A spark, a light—so pure, so true.
By Masood Zahid10 months ago in Poets
I stumbled first, then lost my way, Each step a bruise, each breath a sway. The darkness wrapped its cold embrace, A never-ending, shadowed race.
Tales of long-lost love, where a princess yearns for a man’s plea To be redeemed for her desolation, waiting for someone who sets her soul free.
By Hridya Sharma10 months ago in Poets
Stops you in your tracks Make you pay attention Sometimes alarm you It can be vibrant Catches your eyes Find it sensual
By L.I.E10 months ago in Poets
اک دن کسی مکھی سے یہ کہنے لگا مکڑا اس راہ سے ہوتا ہے گزر روز تمہارا One day a spider said to a fly in a gentle way, "You pass this path so often, yet never stop or stay."
By Ahmad Dost10 months ago in Poets
Grief does not knock— It enters like dusk, Filling corners with shadows And silencing clocks. It creeps into morning With yesterday’s name
By Allen Rihab10 months ago in Poets
Snowflakes write poems in her hair, Each step a verse, each breath a prayer, She is the fire in frozen air, The quiet grace of those who dare.
By Mr Ali10 months ago in Poets
the levels of decorum rendered discorporate. unwanted, waste, refuse, trash, as the boy acts cats called doggedly
By ⸘jason alan‽10 months ago in Poets
I sit here hugging the ocean And yet I hold nothing Choking on tears of fear Of futures lost Was it just a stepping stone
Darkness in its deepest sonder, desolation in its truest bareness, all embraced my shattered skin, Enclothed in the tightness of survival, the light that belied in its invisibility propelled me to keep my hope akin.
the sufferer who hates to be thought of as a victim the witness who knew before we did and the narcissist who couldn’t care less
