Learn more about other poetry terms
Begging with your strong fingertips You grasped into my vacant soul For dear life Your eyes screamed for my body A stare so heavily It burnt the clothes off my body Reckless, you left my heart
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.
what do these eyes see? do they see the color of the snow in front of you? what do these eyes see? do they see the blush on my cheek due to cold? what do these wide eyes see?
I am from many places And attached to few I’ve seen many cities and schools And buildings and parks and hospitals And I haven’t even left Florida From those places, come many sounds
You are my world I taste the stars on your tongue I see the sun on your skin I hear the ocean in your voice I feel the wind from your fingertips I smell the rain in your breath but in your soul
O'er the mountain, Under gray sky, An eagle calls, I hear his cry. O'er the mountain, Doves mourn and cry, Sit and listen, As they all sigh.
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
The thing about summer Is the sky that turns so blue That even the purest Most iridescent gem Cannot match the depth of color And the thing about summer Is the sound of leaves