Learn more about other poetry terms
i'm not quite sure how to put the way i miss you into words. i see your face in everything around me. your taste is a recurrent craving i can't seem to curb.
The smell of ginger bread fills the kitchen with the heat of an oven reminding me I am home. Stepping outside is a shock wave of senses, the smell of snow in the air that the wind has left behind.
Standing at the top of this hill, I sit, stand, and laugh at hell, Thinking, "What a perfect reflection we see of ourselves." With respect, "I know it may seem cold to say just what I see,
Look up to the sky, what's beyond what you can see? Are there angels struttung, spilling and tripping over themselves as we do? See around. Who's beyond what you can see.
Dear Michael, My eyesight is so bad now I actually can’t see anything past my toes Even though its just the ground Then I look up And the moon is blurred
I can see the dying trees And the blooming flowers, The strikes of lightening And the drizzling rain. All through my window I can see these things. I can see the working bees
In some places, scars are The most goregous, glimmering things you've ever seen. Intricate designs telling of forgotten pains And forged of blood. They speak to the strength of their owner.
Rocking in azure blue, Fluorescent lights all around, Rockets flying; left and right, lawyers sue,
The soft tender touch of a lover,The hushed whispers from one to another.The beauty of a now stranger lingers in your mind,The faint smell of Lilac lets you unwind.The taste of your tears cascading down your cheek,Her gentle kisses leave you weak.
It is foreign to me, like entering a class room for the first time. I do not know what to expect and I fear the unknowingness of it all.
Seeking Searching My eyes relish the world around me Once you have seen you cannot unsee This sight that was given to me To see the physical wonders
Cover your eyes, and what do you see? Is it the grass, or the sky, is it me? Why must we make all of our judgements with sight, When all that matters is what's wrong and what's right?
A human being, sentient and breathing, cannot truly live without seeing. If eyes are windows to the soul, then all you know comes through your pupils. But count the eyes first.
she came she saw she took what she needed with soft hands by her touch she then approached him he came again she called him in she wanted
She, falling in love before and he, to depart without a bye so good darkened Her heart from red to gray and further to black it was as if death
Pain, pain, so easy to feel, so easy to see
I am the cup of ramen noodles I keepforgetting to take out of themicrowave. I am the orange juice that spills on a fourteen hourinternational flight. I am the mint plant on the windowsill that only thrives
I am the one with the disability and yet you are the one who really cannot see The world is larger than you and I Can you not see why minds must diversify?
I walk with my hijab- shadowed but shining I walk fast, small silent steps, quick pace I walk and weave through the crowded hallways No bother to anyone, anyone no bother to me
Sight is just a window from the room we're bound to. If you find a way out, would you let me know how too?
I'm on the verge Can't you feel the energy surge I'm almost there So beware 25,000 points seemed out of sight But I scored it with all my might And that's right It was a very hard fight!
Catch the sun Catch it before it sets
Won't you hold me tight In the middle of the night Don't turn on the light Hold me with all your might You know it ain't right If we have a fight That seems to be my plight But your out of sight!
This isn’t some side job that you can pick up whenever you have extra seconds on your wristwatch. The nebulas of your eyes are always looking, observing each individual
hair tied up like her toung in her throat flowers skattered like her toughts high shorts zipped up like her mouth every day socks pulled high likepuffs of smoke leaving her mouth
Watch Time Friend of Mine Brave and cunning Clever till the end Watch the red, as it spreads
No matter where I go, I can't explain away, the limitless attraction to a girl who knows her way. She's a mystery to us all, and a puzzle to a tee, a conundrum to her parents,
At the end of the day, when the flashback startsThe brilliant rays of the sun isall I’ll remember
Our sight is skewed. You look through a lense yet it is not your own; they placed a focal upon your face. Constantly neglecting to notice your nose, though its incapable of escaping your vision.
what if we were all born blind? what if the eyes that rigorously alter out outlook on life were taken away? what if there was no "fatties" no one cared how they looked or were seen as
How nice it must be to have your head on your neck, where was intended to be. The contrary, however, to see. EDIT: How sad it must be to have your head on your neck,
And somewhere between those pictures was the day you left.
Sailing in the waters of which You wept, You sees a Light in the distant of the cove, a Light that Reality would refer to as a dead end. The Light fades, then flares, fades,
I think if your lips pierced mine again, I’d fall back into old habits. It would be unfortunately fine with me. The way your blue eyes made my mind spin, Sent shivers of pleasure down my spine.
I fly because I have no wings. My dreams are never constant. My hands sometimes have blood strewn across my fingers, my head is sometimes a floatless blob. To dream means that you care.
I write because I fight with words. I write because when I write I can be heard when there's no one else to listen and nothing else to do, not a verb else. When I write my sentences are fragmented but my thoughts are complete. Through.
All day long I fight the good fight against my eyes, A constant reminder I'm slave to my sight. What a shame, the content with such snide ties. I suppose it's time for me to grow wise,
I am aware of my vision Better yet, more like its condition Very poor, there's little hope I ask what I'll miss the most Will it be the summer sunsets Seeing its colors blend, until darkness left
There is truth to your word, As my walls come down. When you're around Something unpredictable, Something unspeakable Even unexplained. Yet our lips speak of it softly Will the slightest touch burn?
To hear words as music To see words as a life To know words as your own, It becomes more than spoken. But as emotions with lungs; The beauty in which moves our hearts. To comprehend words with emotions
sudden realization of the sin wondering where to begin i open my eyes and see the difference yet closed eyes, in my mind, knows no resistance thats what’s important, right?