She long poem

Photo by chris favero

She Keeps a Love to Nurture her Immature
And a Vigor to Sacrifice the Fruits of Nature
Her Dreams are Curtained Behind the Window Panes
And Chained into Darkness with Teary Stains

Her Audacity of Giving Birth to our Family Seeds
Still we Question her Dignity from those Impure Deeds
The Blood She Shed, Covers our New born ward
She Carries our World, till our Seed takes Birth

In the World of Fashion, She is cursed of her Attire
She tries hard to Speak, But Finds Humanity to Retire
In her Days of Blood, She is Tied down to Endure
Closed behind the doors, She finds Tears Her only Cure

No one Questions her Pain but mostly Her Purity is Judged
She is Suppressed by fear, And her soul to be Grudged
Her smile passed several Torments, loosing her Sanity
At her Demise, the Tears of Candles covers her Pity

She’s a Way to Conciliate our Needs, In Times of Loneliness
But She’s still a Pure Matron, To relieve our Stress
No matter what her Deeds are, She’s serfaged with Suspect
She is Treated with every Rancor, And without Respect

She holds the nerve to love her man with honour
And In return she’s gifted with a life in the corner
Sensitive to Love, the most Able Birth of our Nature
Has a Cartel to Pride, and Mature the Immature
The Pure Creation of Nature that God has Ever Made
Treat her with Nurture and Her love will never Fade

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 3.50 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

2 Comments on "She"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest
Sarah Gordon

Your way of telling the whole thing in this poem is genuinely good, all be able to easily be aware of it, Thanks a lot.


The Sea Soaked She And The Sun

The Sea Soaked She And The Sun ode

Away from the crowd She whispered her tale. To the cresting waves, To the frothy foam, To the flying seagulls, They knew her soul. They were waiting for her To wash her heart. She left the remains, She was carrying

Just A Myth Until She Became Reality

Just A Myth Until She Became Reality prose poem

She’s loved by many but walks alone. It’s not because she has no one to comfort her, or that she isolates herself from those surrounding her, but it’s because she’s all the strength and comfort she needs. While others find

She’s Kinda Beautiful

Shes Kinda Beautiful ode

They’ve got their arms up in in the air while she is tossing her her coloured hair If you’re going put in her a chair then she’s somewhat debonair But come stage time and she’s jiving from stair to stair

She Matters

She Matters long poem

the way you walk the way you talk the way you comb your hair beautiful eyes as if a angel in disguise the touch of your hand makes me understand pitter patter of soft sandle feet whispers in the corridor

She Was Finally Happy

She Was Finally Happy elegy

After all the heartbreaks, and the suicidal thoughts within her mind. SHE WAS FINALLY HAPPY!! As she remembered the 128 times she got raped. The times evil boys said ”I LOVE YOU” — eventhough their word were fake. SHE WAS