Aids poems bring the best collection of short and long aids poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great aids rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these aids poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on aids are here for you.
AIDS-will you let me live? You will live, if you remain faithful to your spouse, you will live , if you avoid sexually depraved activities, you will live, if you leave morally permissive life, hedonist world, media, and society promote.
Sixties came and went, As the seventies rolled in I was born upon my mother’s breast Last of four kids, I was the baby of the family Seventies were filled of adventure, fun, and games Learning new faces and names
friends are someone.. who meet each other- to share joy and sorrow and celebrate happy moments together. here my friends-never I had the chance to see them face to face. we share a world made with the trust of god’s
Just say no to corrupt politicians, lying and cheating with their secret missions. Hugging the baby in the camera’s eye then stealing its lolly and watching it cry. Just say no to the corrupt EU, actually achieving what Hitler failed
We sure did love the lollipops, the cracker jacks, the Holloway candy sticks, the chocolate coated ice cream bars, and those tootsie rolls. We simply could not get enough of the pop sickles, the cool aids, and the soda pops.
I didn’t really notice her, to start with, A girl with too shaped hair and clothes beyond her years It wasn’t right, clearly not right Medieval in some respects An heir and a spare her task But a fairy-tale danced
I Wish Racism Would Die. I Wish It Would Go Away, Because Racism Is Like A Disease, And People Make It Stronger Everyday. Why Are People Hating Each Other, Because Of The Color Of Their Skin? To Me, Color Ain’t
It goes without saying; soon the cow barn will be full & men quite drunk, Women busy preparing to feed stomachs and give one of their own away, To who, doesn’t it matter? Old, too old or extremely old, a
Through all the rank smells of the city’s shore The ocean’s breath says ages of being. Dark blue depths, salty finned life, and much more, Shifting of arm hair aids my eyes seeing My ancestors rising out of the vast
I dread the weight machine That horrible, putrid little thing It tells me lies that shatter me Clasping my throat that I can’t breathe Every time I step onto its platform The spring beneath contorts in pain It bends its
Just like mantises, hurrying to finish his last embrace, so to be taken by the husks of his beloved; Like a butterfly, flying to the sun, but hunted by a pale lamb hanging on the dust of the road; Like
there’s a song in my heart that needs to be sung in union with friends a bit combersome fallen angelic creatures with vast different features create a whole inside flirting with fire blowing it up to its fullest of desire
Is there life after death? I’ve always wondered No one seems to understand or know People have told me what they think Stories from everywhere make me ask Is there life after death? Each religion believes different things But are
Who will deliver the blow to hissing winds of red hot skin when burning desert hits the green trees? Life flows through fire in the shadows of cloudy peaks. I resume living in the bodies of other people, I am
Open the door to the world It’s filled with natural beauty with high mountains , tall trees, streams and oceans Beautiful flowers and tiny creatures. Dangerous animals too are there Observe each and every tiny bit See how wonderful Gods
Darkness shrouds the dying day, turning everything still but the shadows, growing they are now the undead, gliding towards altars for their daily prey. The silence is just a blindfold, the night but an illusion, things unheard best left unsaid,
Here below the oppressive heat On ground parched and cracked In dark and pregnant sheet A thousand clouds above gathered Streaks of lightning signal the vent As thunder roars in rapture With joyous cries they mingle The first drops downwards
Dark blue sky falls into night, an ever-glowing heart-filled twinkles sparkling with the help of the moon labyrinthine, neatly quintessential resplendence laying heavenly across the sky.. Old wise owl sings inside an old oak tree with orange-yellow red leaves, wind
The Singapore-schooled child Is bonsai-born to perfection; His hair doesn’t grow wild; His mind has no inflection. He is just the rare inquiline His islanded government ordered For in his rinsed head is recorded A rhyme: toe the line or
She tiptoed lightly down the stairs, so quietly and some pause. At only eight, it was quite clear, her sight was on a cause. Her mother’s drawing pad, her brushes, and her paints; her goal to leave behind a painting,
It was a cloudy sky Drizzle had just stopped softly On this enchanting evening, I was lined lucky As there was an ugly beggar who deserved care, swiftly I stopped my car before that hotel where sometime I used to
The wine the wine it tastes so divine… The world is our oyster with pearls before swine… The laughter and rejoicing in everyone’s mind… The food is as fulfilling as times are so fine… The moon is full as my
After a sacred kill you thrived in scriptures. Many centuries have passed for us living without you. Thyme will preserve you body, your brain, syndrome, for our children. When the apocalypse starts, Arctica would keep the seeds, grains, alive and
In lunatic scape of fringed labellum the creeping malignancy was advancing. i missed a rendezvous with moon when you had brought a blue kiss from abducted lips; again I become a sisypus lifting the rock off your comets of round
One difficulty still haunting him That time could not absolve Was the invisible sense that would come over him Deep in the night when suddenly, forced awake From exhaustion, he’d remember the war A village, a road, or maybe the
As winter slowly wanes, its cold breath slowly turns to the warm Breath of spring, renewing and accepting the Wonderment,that spring Shall bring forth nature’s power of renewal. Oh how awesome it makes us feel As we await the beauty
They always met at that restaurant you never saw full more waitresses than customers despite the good location the savory smell that reminded you of late fall lunch some kind of fry-up all the aunts and cousins threw together while
There we met, at street seventy seventh; my friend who’d bowed down with altering features, and me with my clothes getting narrower. We could not find, in this chilly present, a tale to help us recline on the pavement’s stone.
Dear Black Woman You are As Stong as the An African Elephant Yet we’re are supple and elegant. We are persuasive talkers so our words are very Eloquent. Crafted From man’s rib and An earthly element is How God made