Tag: poetry is not dead
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A Fallen Angel
I was gifted with you, even if you doubt, an angel from heaven fallen into my lap. I see those wingsthat you have tried to hide, and the halo slipping to one side. I am grateful every day that heaven lost an angelwhich fell my way. Created by Patricia Harris in Canva -
Rebellion: A Poem
"Gnawing on double-knotted apron strings Desperate for release Tormented torturer" -
Poet’s Blade
Held in the hand,tis small and round.the tip at the endbrings many a man down. The mightiest of weapons,the blade short and stout,tipped to paperblood pours out. Though most a weapondo not consider it to be,the pen is the mightiestof blades I have ever seen. It cuts the wielder just as deeply as the victim,leaving ... -
Packet Of Memories
Memories kept a lifetime, Moments recorded quietly in time, Given freely to bring a happy grin. An envelope filled to the brim, with moments captured by love. Featured image created in Canva by Patricia Harris -
Snowfall
As the snow started to fall, I stared back with wonder at it all. The ground untouched as the blanket cast over it, The people settled in home With holiday joy, Keeping faith and staying warm. The conditions of dangerfor the unwary and foolish, Compares with the nicewarmth and safetyof just staying in. Featured image created by Patricia Harris in Canva -
The poem sliced
The words dripped carelessly from the pen, scrawled on the page heedless of the reader’s heart. Slicing flesh clean from soul, leaving such a hole… The poet knew the power the pen contained, only the words could remain. For the poem sliced into the holder of the pen, just as easily, if not more than,those ... -
I Need To Stop
I need to stop, Stop saying that I can’t. For then I turn around And I do. I need to stop,Stop being afraid, For I end up pushing That boundary too. I need to stop, Stop crying out for who I am not, For I am aware of my reality. I need to stop,Stop comparing ... -
when the words are gone
When the words are gone, The poet cries out the wrong. Ink running from the eyes, Spilling out both truth and lies. The poet cries out the wrong, For the words were there all along, Spilling out both truth and lies Falling gently into lines. For the words were there all along, Hidden ... -
Anxiety Machine
Opening the computer,just for some fun.Staring at the screen,all the plans are undone. The niggling feelingat the back of my head,that I have work to dopounds at me instead. Robbing me of the joythat I might have had,making me feel likeI am something so bad. So I shut down the machinethat once made me smile,for ... -
We Wear the Masks
We wear the mask to protect you see, to pretend that we are not what others believe. We wear the mask to hide behind, sending out the illusion that the world is blind. We wear the mask to prevent the spread of people seeing inside our heads. We wear the mask because ...