Warning: I don't mind wrapping you up in my paper blanket of love poem promises to keep you warm from yourself and allow the depressing lines inside to give you a paper cut, I am a cruel poet. ••• "To indulge in your existence that flows through the hole in my heart onto the small Bright coloured orchid we've hidden from the eyes of the rules is my wanting." •••Quoted piece©

Are you a poet waiting to be recognized? Do you want to improve your poetry through critiquing each other's work? If your answer is yes then you have come to the right place. Is it Ana? (Poetry Book Club) will help you get more reads and wonderful feedbacks on your poems.

these poems are for the lonely, forgotten, the lost poets at three am, and everyone else in between cover credit: -sidjenkins

"Annabel Lee" is the last complete poem composed by American author Edgar Allan Poe. Like many of Poe's poems, it explores the theme of the death of a beautiful woman. Cover by: @KatrinHollister

"The Bells" is a heavily onomatopoeic poem by Edgar Allan Poe which was not published until after his death in 1849. It is perhaps best known for the diacopic use of the word "bells." The poem has four parts to it; each part becomes darker and darker as the poem progresses from "the jingling and the tinkling" of the bells in part 1 to the "moaning and the groaning" of the bells in part 4. Cover by: @CaffeinatedKiwi

"The Raven" tells of a talking raven's mysterious visit to a distraught lover, tracing the man's slow fall into madness. The lover, often identified as being a student, is lamenting the loss of his love, Lenore. Sitting on a bust of Pallas, the raven seems to further instigate his distress with its constant repetition of the word "Nevermore". Cover by @Lujayna

poetry burns through our veins like it did in yours. for what is poetry except inked music? Highest Ranking : #86 POE

random poems about random things from a random girl. x (currently editing)

❝the world turned into black and white so she made colors through her mind.❞ © sam r. all rights reserved

Poem: Sean Michael Hayes Illlustrations: Ben Spiechart #indie #writer #poetry #death #girls #sex #drugs #love