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Most discussed Poetry

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Maybe Now
By NethNix SILVER
Manassas, Virginia

It was a long time ago, It is five minuets right now, It was the best and the worst, You'll ever see of me... It was everything, It is nothing, It was the saddest sigh...
NethNix SILVER, Manassas, Virginia
6 articles 0 photos 14 comments

Favorite Quote:
"When friends die, that isn't the time to morn. Maybe when your dog or hamster kicked the bucket, sure: but friends? If anyone who was important to you looses their life, you fight as hard as you can to make sure their dreams all come true." ~Sam

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Poetry
Worth a lifetime
By HannahLouise1321 DIAMOND
Delaware, Ohio
HannahLouise1321 DIAMOND, Delaware, Ohio
63 articles 0 photos 8 comments
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Poetry
What a Wonderful Day
By austenite77 GOLD
Appleton, Wisconsin
austenite77 GOLD, Appleton, Wisconsin
13 articles 0 photos 58 comments

Favorite Quote:
Die my dear? Why that's the last thing I'll do

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Poetry
Sketch III
By PaigeStreet PLATINUM
Juneau, Alaska
PaigeStreet PLATINUM, Juneau, Alaska
47 articles 0 photos 218 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;Stay golden&quot;<br /> - Johnny (The Outsiders, S. E. Hinton)

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Poetry
Venice
By lookingformargo SILVER
Ithaca, New York
lookingformargo SILVER, Ithaca, New York
8 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
A child said, &quot;What is the grass?&quot; fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven... and now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. -Walt Whitman, Leaves Of Grass<br /> <br /> <br /> We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and falling. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail. -Looking For Alaska<br /> <br /> Here&#039;s what&#039;s not beautiful about it: from here, you can&#039;t see the rust or the cracked paint or whatever, but you can tell what the place really is. You see how fake it all is. It&#039;s not even hard enough to be made out of plastic. It&#039;s a paper town. I mean look at it, Q: look at all those cul-de-sacs, those streets that turn in on themselves, all the houses that were built to fall apart. All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm. All the paper kids drinking beer some bum bought for them at the paper convenience store. Everyone demented with the mania of owning things. All the things paper-thin and paper-frail. And all the people, too. I&#039;ve lived here for eighteen years and I have never once in my life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters. -Paper Towns<br /> <br /> It is so hard to leave&mdash;until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world. -Paper Towns<br /> <br /> Elsewhere the landscape is more frank.<br /> The light falls without letup, blindingly. - A Life, Sylvia Plath

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Poetry
A Letter from the Heart
By Anonymous
Poetry
Mommy I Love Daddy I Hope
By BlackDynamite SILVER
Danville, Virginia
BlackDynamite SILVER, Danville, Virginia
5 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
&quot;I am what I am&quot;

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Poetry
A Sullen, Yet Peaceful Ending
By Anonymous
Poetry
Alzheimer's
By BeccaN GOLD
Lynchburg, Virginia
BeccaN GOLD, Lynchburg, Virginia
10 articles 12 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
Yesterday&#039;s the past, tomorrow&#039;s the future, but today is a gift. That&#039;s why it&#039;s called the present.

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Poetry
Analogy
By Angelgirl39 GOLD
Monument, Colorado
Angelgirl39 GOLD, Monument, Colorado
13 articles 5 photos 64 comments

Favorite Quote:
\&quot;I can sum up all I have learned about life in three words: It goes on\&quot;<br /> ~Robert Frost<br /> <br /> \&quot;Those who dream by day are often more aware of things then those who dream only by night\&quot;<br /> ~Edgar Allan Poe

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