Most Liked Free Verse Poems (29,543)

I know , I know you differ from all,
although they say - just a woman ...
But somehow another , unusual so!
You're gorgeous ! Woman of Honor !

In your eyes strength and courage I see
Hiding thy soul behind everyday mask !
I know, your heart that way has assumed ...
That way , outstanding, of a Woman of Honor !

That way difficult, subtle and terrible !
That way which all do evase- of fight …and war
That so long way...so dusty and hard
Where only the Women of Honor wander…

I know , I know that you really enjoy
Sounds of love, wrapped in a silence ...
I know , I see that you are so nice
gentle , wonderful Woman of Honor !

Not like the others ! Did you hear ? Believe !
Beautiful, hard ,quite different and good !
Your Love to the others do ever donate !
And remain a Woman of Honor !
Dobromir Radev

When you were a child
I was In your dreams,
Within your peaceful night
I dwelt within your scenes.
You saw my darkened majesty
But never did you fear,
Love was In your heart
You cried Love's own tear.
Now you are no child
I have come to you,
Your Love Is still the same
It Is ever true.
I wonder If you still see
The child who Loved the night,
Who loved her Dark Angel
Who saw within him light.
Shall you ever be
The child who watched the moon,
Who had a Loving heart
Who lived In Love's cocoon.
Your dream has come true
Your heart's Love shall ever run,
Ever your heart touched with Love
Your Dark Man he Is come.

This mysterious man
He's blowing my mind
I can barely walk a straight line
He sounds so fine
I wonder is he my kind
Could he be that rare find
Hes leaving me
Blind Blind
He doesn't show his face
This mysterious man
Hes good at playing tag
Touch Touch
You're It
Time to show what you got
Picture Picture
I'm trying to put a face to this man
I would rather trace his face with my hand
Please tell me you have nothing to hide
mysterious man

The pages curled in among themselves sitting listless on the shelf.
I told myself that the route to upstate NY wasnt as far as I had thought.
I was wrong once again getting the car ready for the trip,checking oil and windshield fluid.
Making sure the antifreeze was at the correct level,I wasnt in a hurry about it all because I knew what waited for me at the end .
I am going to see my daughter her name is Naomie she is 36 years old how wonderful! Surley not really she had Turners syndrome varient disorder. My daughter is a beautiful woman who will always be a child.She lives in a state run home for women 5 others live there in different degrees of physical or mental disabilitys.I really hate the classafactions they throw out. My daughter has small wants she likes magizenes,the dollar store and a meal out with me Pizza or Chiense food.
I am so sad when I visit why are things this way?Sometimes she seeks leathgic and cranky but sometimes I can see the beam in her eyes that let me know she is still there.It tears me apart but this is her life and she is happy she graduted from high school and goes to the work shop every day except weekends. Her name is Naomie she is my daughter and I love her dearly.

Look at the sun
See the everlasting
Our hearts on the run
Love within our dream Is starting
Glory before me
The sun before my eyes
My Veronique
You lift my Soul to paradise
Oh Veronique
Your blue eyes are shining
You are my ever light
You are my silver lining
Stand before me
Our joy of Love Is starting
My Veronique
You are my Love everlasting

The day after Monday
I sometimes regret
This game of roulette
I sometimes play

It’s Tuesday creeping ‘round
Bringing tears of want that abound
Reminding me of the days
That on Tuesday's come my way

Bringing sadness and tears
Through the lonely years
Searching for happiness along the way
Or the tragedy of a Shakespeare play

Trying to remember the feeling
Concealing the more deceiving
Making sense of the appealing

Love’s a winding road
A twisting path
Filled with tears of happiness
Fears of madness
Mixed with drops of sadness

I can hear your heart beating
That sound so fleeting
Wait, don’t go
Have a cup of coffee
We can talk, just flow
You and me
Isn’t this what it’s all about
Isn’t this what was pointed out

If life is a discovery
Why do we need recovery
We hold on
Until all feelings are gone

Like Tuesday’s tears
That bring back our fears
Alone and crying
Desperately trying

I would like to forget
This Tuesday now
I just don’t know how

With it’s sunrise like a crown
I won’t back down
It doesn’t fit quite properly
Heralding a dark prophecy

Of days gone by the wayside
And all the tears I’ve cried
Where is that one
Special loving and kind
The honest and caring man
So elegant and refined

The one I searched for
When my search began
The ‘happily ever after’
And so much more
Remnants of my master plan

Who comforted my fears and
Dried my Tuesday’s tears
The day after Monday
I sometimes regret
But will never forget

It’s Tuesday creeping‘round
Bringing tears that abound
So I just stand up and cheer
No more Tuesdays will I fear

Autumn storms swept through.
With battering winds, relentless rain,
and the unending torture loosening their grip,
the leaves flew.

November. All gone but one.
Stubborn, clinging, holding tight.
High in the sycamore, not letting go,
the branches promising strong support.

Christmas came and went,
but still the palmed leaf hung on.
Against January’s bitter cold, it persevered, but just.
Frozen by frost, heart turning to ice,
but still there - fingertips.

I noticed the day it was gone,
wrenched from it’s only home,
lost in the carpet of fellow fallen leaves below, never to be found.
I noticed it’s vacant place.
I noticed the space it left and I felt the void.

The inevitable dawning, I understood.
Omniscient Nature knows best –
when it’s time to go, it’s time to go…

Snow blanched fields, soft and bright,
naked frost silvered branches reach for the skies.
Serenity has descended.

The perfect Autumn storm,
that tore this leaf from it’s tree-top perch,
now a fading, distant memory.

The white blanket’s pierced!
Daring to try, the snowdrop peeps,
and smiles at the sun ascending.

Here, at the coffee shop at
the edge of the universe,
the flowers bleed
as if they were hearts,
the hearts ooze a darkness
like India ink,
and poets dip their pens in
and they write.

"Here at the coffee shop at
the edge of the universe,"
they write,
not knowing what it means.

"Here, where the sky nurses on black milk,
where the smokestacks feed the sky,
where the trees tremble in terror
and people come to resemble them..."

Here, at the coffee shop at
the edge of the universe,
the poets the poets are bleeding.

Writing and bleeding
are thought to be the same;
singing and bleeding
are thought to be the same.

Write us a poem!
Send us a parcel of metaphors!
Comfort us with proverbs or candied fruit,
with talk of one God.

Distract us with theories of art
no one can prove.

Here at the coffee shop at
the edge of the universe
our heads are empty,
and the wind walks through them
like ghosts
through a haunted house.

~SAS~

Please, oh please can't you see
What your words are doing to me...
Talk to me...
No don't speak....
Show me that
You love me and you'll never leave
My heart has been yours from the day we first met...
Even though I now grieve
Even when you made me fret....
Now by actions shown
You've made your choice...
The love bird has flown
I can no longer hear it's voice
I must be a fool
To love so deep
So strong
God...
Tell me where I went wrong
How I weep
My heart, alas, it still beats
Tear it from my chest
I want no repeats...
Can't bear the pain of unrequited love
Can't bear the pain
Father, come take me above...
What's the use of living
What's the use of giving
I melt away into nothingness
You are not around
And my dreams crumble to emptiness
So fly lovebird fly away
Come never again my way.....