Welcome to the Poetry section of HeartSaysALot, where words dance with emotions and verses breathe life into thoughts. This space is dedicated to poetry in all its forms, capturing the essence of human experiences, feelings, and reflections. Our curated collection spans a wide range of themes and styles, offering something for every reader—whether you’re drawn to the classic or the contemporary. Let the power of poetry stir your soul, inspire your imagination, and provide a moment of solace or joy. Join us in celebrating the art of verse and the magic it brings to our lives.
It’s scaryThe realization that the roots,Once a support that nourished meWith hopes and dreamsTo become the best version I could possibly be. They truly anchoredThe pain of betrayal,Worthlessness,Self-destructionWithin me. The…
This poem aches with the kind of love that leaves no room for breath, only echoes. “You Will Always Be the One” is a cry from a soul tethered to…
Over the frosted twigsSanta crossed unknowinglyRoses hexed the hymn of romanceFrozen Season, Melted Romancethe season came when everything was whiteSnowflakes fell from the heavens aboveThe night was filled with a…
There Comes a Time: I Don't Want to Write There Comes a Time I Don't Want to WriteWhere I don't wanna writeI don't want to sleepAnd I don't want to…
Last night I offered a hand of mine to myself knowing how unnoticed it had gone for quite a long time now. I looked at it the way I never…
Nature could not keep her— She could see the enclosing night in the bird’s eyes,A dark abyss where silence folded into echoes.A realm where dusk whispered forgotten hymns,And shadows lingered…
There's a note that I wrote to myself that no matter what I'd break down when the circumstances demand and remain weak until I choose to be strong. I've recited…
I wish I spent time with my familyI wish I confessedI wish I didn't argueI wish I apologizedI wish I had time for herI wish I stayed when she wanted…
The few days in your womb felt like a shieldA shield, which was shattered by the beast.Was it a sin to be born as a girl,Where the life before I…
She Was Never The Poem She was never the poem,She was always the writer.She used to write throughout the morningnoon and the nightPainting herself in wordshoping they would decorate her…