



Welcome to Poet's Corner! This is a section dedicated to showcasing the work of talented young poets, and occasionally, talented old poets!
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My True Love is Me
By: Helena Nikitopoulos IG: @wordsbyhelena
I sit in a field of daisies
because all my favourite dandelions
flew away
as I cry out to my distant lovers
I am silenced
by the white-yellow flowers
melting on my tongue
as I stand up, fighting the urge to cry
at the intensity of the sun’s eye,
I settle back down into the grassy field
As stems of daisies caress me,
Whispering,
You are exactly where you need to be
The Man
By: Abbigail L.M, IG: @abbigailm
I look in the mirror through the eyes of a man
because a woman loves me in a sentimental way
a way in which flesh is nothing
but a shell for my humanly characteristics
where I am kind and intelligent.
to a woman, I am a brain and bones.
Bones that were built through what feels like endless years of being told
they were never good enough.
Everyday as my flesh ages so slightly,
my bones and my brain become
more of who I am meant to be.
As long as the two continue to grow,
I will loose my worth
as the flesh of a woman like myself
are only pleasing for so long.
to a man,
my worth will fade as my appearance does
but my suffering wil continue
as long as I am controlled by
even nothing more than the idea of a man.
THE PEACOCK AND THE PIGEON
By: Maya Mele, IG: @Mykasreads
FOR IF I WERE A HOMELY PIGEON, SIN WOULD NOT HAVE BESTOWED ME.FOR IF I WERE LIKE THE MODEST PIGEON, THE EGOS OF ALL WOULD LEAVE ME REST. MY FEATHERS WOULD BE DENUDED OF ALLURING PATTERNS AND BLANKETED WITH ASH TO PRESENT ME AS GRAY. FOR THE PIGEON ENCOUNTERS SENSATIONS OF SOLELY CONTENT EVERY PASSING DAY.
NIGHT AND MORNING, THE PIGEON TRIES TO SING; I HEAR HER WORDS AND THE DISARRAY. BUT IF I WERE THE PIGEON, I WOULD NOT CARE FOR SONG, FOR IT IS THE LACK OF JOY THAT MY BEAUTY BRINGS UPON. FOR THE FEELINGS SUPPOSED TO RISE WITHIN MY HEART FAIL TO SPAWN WHAT I HAVE LOST FOR SO LONG. BUT THE PIGEON IS CONTENT AND NEVER FAILS TO EXPRESS HER JOY FROM NIGHT TILL DAWN. FOR IF I WERE LIKE THE HIDEOUS PIGEON, I WOULD NO LONGER PERCH UPON LUSH TREES.FOR I WOULD SIT WHERE THE PIGEON LIVES, AMONG THE UNWANTED AND DISPLEASED.
I CARE NO MORE FOR BEAUTY, NOR FOR THE EYES OF ALL FOR ALL I DESIRE IS THE ACTION OF WITHDRAWAL. THUS, IN MY DESOLATE CAVE, I NOW RESIDE, WHERE I NO LONGER BEAR APHRODITE'S HAND. WHOSE ONCE GENTLE TOUCH HAS BECOME A WRETCHED CLUTCH. FOR IF I WERE THE HOMELY PIGEON WOULD NOT FEEL THIS PAIN. FOR NOW, I LAY IN BEAUTY'S OLDEN GRAVE.