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
What shall I say to those with pride who too live at the edge with their backs against the fact! Just because you are hurt it doesn’t mean you will become violent! Just because you are shut it doesn’t mean
Eyes as hard as the hardest stone. Inscrutable, hide within secrets galore. The face, the same. But them hands, they lie. On a bed of lies her mind still rests, Waiting for a kick. Dystopia all around her. Or so,
Will the ghosts ever lie down and rest they rose from the anguish of the soul in an instant of morbid pain and they have kept him haunted. He walks like a zombie trying to escape the wrath they inflict
A demanding desire Soaring up Chasing me to the outskirts of Contagious passion To enhance the beauty Deliberately smuggling in All the reachable resources Every chemical blend That would add the fineries Often tranquil imitations Rousing up the glamour In
Wrigglers dripped again from hidden heights. The red river changed its course furiously. The wave climbers abseiled from a lethal boat to wipe out the beach memory. Timeline sneaked to put the blood signature of a cult on the glass
If I’m leaving tomorrow For a journey of epic proportions, If uncertainty lies over my existence Would you say what I wanted to hear… And make it easier for me to go, Or would you just stand there, Mourn over
I searched for tranquility in more ways than one, but yet it is still hard to reach. My soul wonders from place to place without fear or stability. Once I thought I found a home near by the countryside with
The world is a nasty-looking fruit, With a skin made of TV screens, Of omnipotent mouths spitting out hate. Through your ears and eyes, they always creep in. But there’s a way to survive, a way to tread evil’s waters.
I was a bit older than you, you were a bit younger than me, We were so-called neighbors. You’re a different kind of girl, who’s shy and little, suddenly, friendship fell. We were so close, like brothers and sisters, who
I too wanna live… I’m tired of eyes that look but don’t see They pierce remembering the undressed me Numerous stares taunt my erased purity But they don’t see the soul of me. A painful experience I’ve locked up inside
JUST BECAUSE WE’RE OVER Doesn’t mean we still can’t Be friends, JUST BECAUSE WE’RE OVER doesn’t mean We can’t still get together And have some fun every Now and then… After all the years we shared Together it would be
Love what a magical word.. When comes in mind it changes everyone’s world. Sometimes i wonder why we say it magical May be its the power which make it mystical Its the supremacy that make anyone perceive That he can
Beneath the lipstick, make-up and behind the smile, She is just a model who poses before you; for a while; Between the lines; below the sentences; She domains, Dressed up in white, with an angelic look; she remains. Human or
Wanted to wear the grief uncrying, sitting on the bank, counting the waves, watching the swaying of earthen lamps. There was a little water on the moon, charged atoms settling in the lap of a sponge. The water becomes the
we are but humans spring-sing soft stars of simple dimples and happy rhymes cold-hold cast figures of quick kisses and broken unbrokens of up-eyes and down-feet-fear of hearts and heads and faces and feathers and scream-dreams and teen-dreams and mean-dreams
While dabbling in multitude a peculiarity stares in face Most of indulgent revelry is mislaid and out of place On probing deep recesses what really comes to fore All evident is make believe and hollow at deepest core Pretentious seems
The last glimpse of Amber and burgundy, After the bombing and the raid, As his flesh is kissed and licked away By pincers of roiling flame. His eyes finally flutter to a close, As he finally succumbs to his immortal
The weary sun tip toed through crochet clouds To darn lace curtains with golden needles, And to sign its name on criss-crossed trickling waters Making shadows bow down low in obituaries Of another fading day, and on distant Wandering memories,
It’s the shitty line he used Making you feel like garbage Like the trash you leave Wrapped tightly in a black bag On the side of the road Waiting to be picked up by someone else Recycled and recycled While
Mom. You always care for me so much with warmth of your love you are so caring Mom, you always live in my heartbeats with lights of spiritualism you are so glaring Mom, knowledge of humanity and wisdom I learn