stadarooni 
Empathy is the human superpower.
Empathy is the human superpower.
Heart of Darkness
A collaboration of thirty on a very affectionate affair of poetry pizzazz! Enjoy! 317
18
soothrain 
be a pineapple, crown atop, sweet within
be a pineapple, crown atop, sweet within
ioanamoldovan2 chaotic mind / raging soul
chaotic mind / raging soul
i was nothing
years and years. I was nothing, but now...? By: Ioana Moldovan 179
2
gilbertpacheco Art shaped by words!
Art shaped by words!
Ama's story
This is a short story about my grandmother Hilaria A.K.A. Ama. She will be turing 102 years old this November. I hope you all enjoy, with respect, G! 170
6
in IG: @moonwakewords ^^
IG: @moonwakewords ^^
Memory Lane
#7 in my Phobia Series. My previous story seem to have gone well, much to my delight, so I decided to try my hand at it again. This time, about 'philophobia'. Thank you for reading. <3 151
0
sy There we go
There we go
iowamamaof3 
I just like to write...is that so wrong?
I just like to write...is that so wrong?
stadarooni Empathy is the human superpower.
Empathy is the human superpower.
robotic_nebula 
Poetry, fiction, and sci-fi writer
Poetry, fiction, and sci-fi writer
The Old Man and the Tree
What had the old man done to scare so the child I was? 78
0
fallenshadow 17| Poet in heart, puppet in life.
17| Poet in heart, puppet in life.
The Person In The Mirror
The person in the mirror is different for everyone. Can you live with them?
sy There we go
There we go
Paradise Lost (II).
(18+ SENSITIVE TOPICS) Obvs not the actual Paradise Lost, but I put II after it so its not plagarism. THIS IS THE ONLY ONE OF THESE, I HAVEN'T WRITTEN A PRIOR POEM 61
0
sincerelybee 15▪This Is Happy▪Anthony▪
15▪This Is Happy▪Anthony▪
bruvton 
Mężczyzna pije
Mężczyzna pije
It Was All Just Fun and Games
A throwback! I wrote this story in 8th grade (I think). Tell me what you think of this style! 56
0
kaceymackwriter Words open doors. I like where they lead
Words open doors. I like where they lead
Hush
Hush, my little dark one, shrouded in the night. Across the creaking wooden floor, your cradle swings, back and forth. 54
0
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