Abused poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of abused poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on abused are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
His stony rampant presence swamps my gut with frozen fear, rearing embittered bones. Forsaken by my angel, away she flew when my favourite shadows died now I am alone with quarrelsome bladder and skittish quivering bowel. The wicked ogre proclaims
Physically abused, Mentally accused, Emotionally scared For the ones she held dear. Her burning flesh And the positive tests Her leaking face Would always make my heart race The looks of disgrace would show on their face Without a clue,
She came into this world with a healthy loud cry. She was so very excited but, things looked awry. There were no happy smiles to greet her arrival., She had no clue, she had caused such upheaval. She was not
It all seems important until someone doesn’t remember the squabbling plans of a coven of third grade girls to torment a classmate each with a thick red pencil sharpened for poking each put together as glossy as a nine-year old
A Teenage girl with lovely eyes Dragged from every corner of boys! First user free… Grown like a tree! The taste in dating continued The committed mistakes are mounted! The body has become decayed Heart beats counted the day! Log
what is her fault? just ”being a girl”. Took her to the worst, left nothing to curse. No sense nor an idea, why and what is going on her. Calling out mom, wished hearts would really connected. considered her an
Oh woman! Oh mother Abused beaten thrashed facing all torture You are not less than mother nature She gets disfigured scarred by her own Yet once in a while out comes her fury You behind that brave smiling mask From
Listen, listen to my beating heart It has learnt the expression art Hear, hear my bold manly voice It has learnt the speech to rejoice Look, look at my confident eyes They have learnt adjustment to rise Yes I have
There are some things I have come to believe. Believe me when I say, I am not deceived. Sometimes the good die young, and never receive. Unfairness exists, and persists, though ill conceived. Sometimes everybody gets pushed around, or cheated.
Will every way be barred to the expression that comes to mind short of perception? The truth will be found in the time when one day separated by days becomes days separated by never. The brief and testaments completed; enter
Love, what a beautiful addiction. Drug, with no prescription. Throughout life it is used, limits easily abused. Aroma, oh so sweet. Looks, sometimes a cheat. Yet, we take what we can get. Our greatest asset. With drugs come side effects:
Her eyes, wide in bewilderment saying, “What the heck?” Her face was red where his fist had struck. Her lips swollen, cracked in places where her teeth bit, Her tears had dried up and quit. I could see the damage
There are millions of voices that are silenced From trafficking, slavery, and exploitation. Not just overseas, in third world countries, But right here in our very own nation. There are millions of tears that spill to the earth Of those
A dowry for a princess was a city called BOMBAY with green fields, open spaces lakes and seas, tramcars that were a child’s delight horse-carts drawn by liveried men the streets were clean, wide and green with cobbled footpaths dotting
How can a lie make the whole world cry, yet they claim there is nothing to see, where nefarious knaves and the covetous crave beneath covers so stealthily, free? No thought for the plebs as they weave dangerous webs in
Outside, always looking in, A deafening silence encompasses the room. Inside, never turning around, Embellished laughter and empty smiles fortify a line of demarcation. Alone. The soot amasses dusty clouds, Engulfing the couches and various chairs. Never to be used,
He came to serve and not to be served But billions of people stand to serve Him He was not an orator But He spoke concepts that were never spoken He has come with no credentials But become incredible credential
He halted.. Snuffing the air, he turned tail and galloped off. Still, Without much delay, We gallantly dragged our efforts; shooting at the poor beast in hot pursuit I was unwilling in this sport. In my heart of hearts I
This day of sixty fruitful weeks shadow pristine relics of bundled keepsakes adorned in obsolete gazettes of passing snow storms, puppy training and next door’s junk mail. Transition logs re-call six states, five military orders, four duty stations, six rusted
Back in bygone days- one might have been amazed by all the tricks and trappings of the fool now that we are here- royalty is rarely near and what has cycled in is to be cool not-with-standing out- crystal clear-
I think about the soft velvety eyes, Wet in wait- Of a resolve of distance. Yonder do they stare at- Looking for the clouds the eyes love. Blue sky gazes down at him too, Benign and protective of his space.
Body sat at desk, Huddled over a book. Eyes fixated on the page in front of you Finger twirling through your hair. The same eyes that often wander my body, Hands that get tangled in my skin. I watch the
This was my book of pain with no ending. Life had two meanings- Anticipation of today, and fear of tomorrow. Time was running out like sand from fists, mists were rising, commentaries on setting sun had begun. Mind was calculating,
Welcome, welcome White dove The hatred wall That estranged cousins Have begun to fall When love Incarnated in white dove Started to fly high Over Ethiopian- Eritrean sky. Welcome, welcome White dove You are an antidote Border dispute to solve.
Yes I have questions, and good ones at that. The kind of questions that I feel need answering to. The ones I think about each and every day.The ones I would never say. You thought you understood. When really you
Sifting through the sands of time trying to make out truth from lies I realize that there is no telling the truth everything is a lie, everything is a truth.. The moments color the perception emotions add the hues shades
He sits in a room with no windows, the air stagnates rapidly and with no fresh air. Impossible for anyone to animate inside, he ponders how he got there. Mismatched furniture, like his soul, he has had seen better days
Born in the filth and dirt, mocked and jeered everywhere, shouted and screamed at always, with the vision of people coming home with bloody hands and a gun in pocket, ever said to be born with a fate like that,
You don’t have to pretend, the feelings you keep. You don’t have to admit, what’s bothering you deep. You said you don’t care, but your eyes lie. You said you can’t tell, but your lips utter and sigh. You won’t
The bushes, I remember, have been there in the tales of my love! The breath, the tears, and the aura of virgin forest – The art, the sighs, the darkness, the motorcycle, the roads, the unending journeys, have been there!
I shall like to live my life as a Promethean poem And steal to earth God’s most sacred fire from heaven! Which prosody, a psalm of echoes in efflorescence; Which beauty, its raison d’être, the extant of essence; Which truth,