Abuse poems bring the best collection of short and long abuse poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great abuse rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these abuse poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on abuse are here for you.
Casting aspersion on caste is like digging one’s own Grave For we know not why we have come but we know for sure where we are destined to Go When the coffin doesn’t differentiate who you are Why do you
Casting aspirations on caste is like digging one’s own grave For we know not why we have come but we know for sure where we are destined to Go When the coffin doesn’t differentiate who you are Why do you
Her abuse of my naivety left a gaping wound; the cloaking (but never healing) of that wound made me hard and cold. She was sweet and sincere She dried my tears She was sympathetic And somewhat poetic She drew me
“Man is born free. But, Everywhere He is in chains.” Woman, is never born! Birth is life… She is only gifted, with a pair of machines… We call those machines ‘Eyes’ on a man’s face! Unbreakable, indestructible Chains are made
you wouldn’t know them except for their orders gliding like dolls hovering, footless, wearing bright dresses that brush the dusty floor the kind a proud mother would pick out then stand behind their chairs distracted trying to tame their cowlicks.
Blackened silence was holding the reflectivity, reality was on the run. Exile was complete. Dark secrets, standing on head remained buried in your chest absorbing all colors of sun. A night remembers the friends who went over the hills one
She bloomed In the dense secrecy The vivid greenery Seeming adorned! The spring Spraying fragrance To her Each giggling note She hissed Soft lullabies To the blinking buds When hurt by the stings The flies thrust… Draped in beauty Her
Sweeping blood drops from her mouth, crying with anguished sobs Rosa ran to open the door, but Owen caught her by her wrist. Why are you doing this to me she stated? Owen hit her again with no reply. He
This life takes that which may be taken and avows that Which is without comprehension, Embodiment unreasoned, seeking purpose, it Navigates with pain and pleasure, Yet not with both in equal measure, rather as season dictates Upon which emotions soar
Of things we once had in comparison to now were mom married to dad and a garden to plow before pharmaceuticals and psychology books we got, pull up your bootstraps or you’ll get dirty looks long before fast food when
Speaking of our troubled times, Incensed, enraged, the crowd seeks revenge. Reason drowned, Untruths pitted against individual. My heart bleeds, beneath this monstrosity, point-blank you ask the question. Give me a chance to recover I am deeply perturbed today. Mist
Who am I? A pure soul who’s supposed to witness slaughtering of dreams and souls but never reveal for the sake of graffiti Who am I? A beauty to be shown off and endure every pain without a single drop
Its not new to the world, Its rather the most cold, Rage, urge and need, With all insane greed. She was there tired and weak, Too tired to speak. She didn’t know wat just happened, Now the known voices is
My sweet saccharin smile feigned just for you, even shines in my eyes as I mentally plot your destruction. Small talk and lies drip from my lips like poisoned honey. No sleepless nights plague me, not even a minuscule pang
As within, is without So simple to find that out Are you so pale? Examine every detail Once you are alert Watchful and smart Junk food you intake The law you break Is your guiding voice A terrible choice The
The discomfort of self, the sheath of truth crumbled by the church preaching ignorance and bitterness God does not look upon you with grace and love, this is what they tell you You are poisoned, grotesque, morbid, monstrous, and vile
Christmas eve is A time of family and tradition Or in my case Unopened PJ’s, anxiety attacks, and cops That’s all that I’ll ever think of anymore At the mention of it I’ll be brought to tears I was cleaning
I was fed up of school for wearing uniforms and me eking out punishments from teachers I was dreaming of college life which I thought would be like a bird freely flying into the clouds and repented for being still
your eyes an abridged story of the deep sea – ever silent in the deep so tumultuous, on the surface. on my arid soul-scape you just keep on bubbling and your smiles blanket my lonely shore. people always loved to
I had a chance meeting with a quiet fellow No, we did not meet Didn’t even share a breath Unsure if it was male, female or hermaphrodite Still it was unlooked for Rising in a predawn hour, ready for the
There was a bright light again.. It’s a morning after a night rain! The petrichor was around that place.. No doubt,drops’re drying with all grace! Serene it was to feel the wet on leaf.. The dust pulled out with a
Well my mother might be almost sixty But she’s still one damn good-looking Woman, inside and out she’s has such A kind heart and her feelings run deeper Than any ocean can and such a beautiful Beautiful woman who could
There was existence, without space. I was afraid of my unborn child. Inheriting the stammer of history I could not think of any brand abuse. On the contrary, fumes throw you off the road. Full moon rising on the cleft.
Sweltering insurgencies of electric power chords Tribal reverberations of skin-stretched drum boards Rolling and filling, syncopating the noise of the tinkle toys the gutless boys enraptured in the music the anthem Of invidious phantoms. My eyes hurt inside and I
A tribal fear was lurking, behind a surge of emotion. The sun was looking black. A sexual abuse of a quaint flower aborts the fruit. This year we will go hungry. A nascent seed stripped on road- cries for water.