Poetically Stories

I wish all my ravens fed well, I wish my swallows kept telling their tales, I wish my parrots wouldn't be so annoying... Oh, well, I was always too hopeful!... some wishes! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3fpmsaxpSk #motivation #success #inspiration #happiness #gratitude #happy #friendshipday #life #joy #poetry #poetrycommunity #poems #poetrylovers #poetryisnotdead #poetsofinstagram #poetsociety #poetically #writerscommunity #writingcommunity #writersandpoetry #mindfulness #meditation #peace #love #wordcraft

Its not finished, its progressing

True love is deep , beyond skin and bone , It's a connection that's felt , not just shown.

🔅Name : Yellow Lights: Rotterdam 🔅 Writer : Rednight 🔅 Genre : Letters 🔅 Couple : - 🔅 Character : Agape, Gaia در لابه لای نور های زرد و طلایی، بین عطر شیرین رزهای هلندی، تنها دو شهروند بیدار بودند که در میان انبوهی از کاغذها برای هم، نامه می نوشتند. ------------- ‼️ - تمامی اسامی و شخصیت ها تخیلی بوده و هرگونه تشابه، تصادفی است! - تمامی حقوق مربوط به این داستان، متعلق به نویسنده است؛ هرگونه استفاده، ایده گرفتن، تغییر و یا نشر در کانال های تلگرام، روبیکا و سایر، ممنوع بوده و در صورت مشاهده، لطفا به نویسنده اطلاع دهید.

In a place for runaways and misfit toys, A castle for reckless girls and troubled boys, I knew a lonesome lad with glassy eyes Who lost his life trying to touch the skies. sailing_saints ©️ 2018

she was the night. he was the lake there's was no light buh only a snake. we were the dark ...we were the stars blue as he was ...the story of us.

Messy thoughts of mine formed into poetic sentences and strung into poems. (currently in the process of editing some of the poems!) cover credits: canva

Poems about hope and love.

Poems are just poems Each of them have a home Could be somewhere in your heart I hope these works can play the part (all of these are by me and if they aren't they do have credit buy I don't think I'll have anyone's else poem in here!!)

just some poetries I wrote for a little TOUCHING MOMENTS *crack

I wanted someone to take an interest in me not as a pretty face but because I had something to say. I wanted my poetry to feel ugly. When I was a little girl, I was told, little girls should always act like a lady. I had to lose my voice just so I could be heard. Only after I was put in my place I could speak. If I spoken out of place, I was quickly put back in it with a slap or a shoved came to mean people had a right to do as they pleased to me. I remained silent and abused. Apologetics to only me. Then one day someone said "she never make a sound, no one never knows when she's around". It was then, I was given this voice . Loud and proud from something deep inside. I endured the pain of being heard. And now I like to roar. Each poem, I believe, tells a story.

Penis Pe-nis (noun) read at your own risk sequel will be up soon, stay tuned

Amora's life was painfully ordinary-early shifts at the bakery, parents who barely spoke, and a constant ache of exhaustion she couldn't shake. But one quiet morning shatters everything. When she walks into work, she finds guns, strangers, and fear instead of flour and sugar. Within minutes, she's ripped from the life she knew and thrown into the arms of Luna Contarini-the cold, commanding head of the Italian mafia. Sold by her own parents to settle a debt, Amora finds herself trapped in a mansion where danger wears a tailored suit and love feels like a threat. Luna claims Amora isn't a prisoner... she's a bride. But as Amora fights to survive-and to understand the woman who owns her-one truth becomes clear: freedom isn't always the same as escape. Dark, emotional, and addictive, You're Mine Now is a slow-burn mafia romance about power, betrayal, and the thin line between fear and desire.