Anxiety poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of anxiety poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on anxiety are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
The problems she has are real soft fronds of fruiting vines lick up the tears from her forehead each wonders which is upside right earlier she was harried into the rental car wishing only to idle but parents have a
When temptation comes Smoothness stops A prison is formed Anxious and bored Around the wheel An obstacle feel There is an angle Psychic illness bangle Of stressful thoughts In your accounts Stop all your shouts Temptation now Just let it
Hope burns bright…lighting the way through the darkness…it vanishes…dreams of tomorrow, torn away…walls crumble…and he who dwells amongst the shadows…strikes without warning…his poison fills me…corrupting my body, my mind, my soul…forced to suffer…a captive made…chained, forever cursed…my nightmare, a twisted
the pillows sleep on me like cats every night this room contains a brand new constellation pinpricks of technology winking as if blocked by orbiting children regular visitors and on the wall a creamy veil where the curtains don’t reach
A father will often overprotect his kids And punish for them excessively till they are scared to bits He will often be very harsh and tolerate no mistakes And expect them to perform as perfect well above their heads Yet
There are these moments of peace and clarity. They feel almost foreign like they don’t belong. My world functions in movements of headbangers’ ball mixed with rapper’s delight like trumpets blaring and an offbeat drum. It’s all in my head,
Hello! Hello! Hello? Is anyone there? Can you hear it. Hear that noise? How can you miss it, it’s so loud! Thump, Thump, Thump! Pound, Pound, Pound! It’s getting closer! It’s getting Louder! Hello! Hello! Hello? Do you hear it
Drifting away with the evening breeze yesterday’s happiness tends to disappear I watch myself in the mirror, and know the Klonopin warrior comes to the rescue It´s a mask that covers my tears just take it and hold it into
From yelling and screaming, to sobbing and feeling down. From being mad as hell, to throwing shit around. From an unwelcomed frown, to thoughts of regret. From pondering lifes path, to darting thoughts of fret. From shouting and kicking, to
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
A sleepless night exploring an expectation My mind eye playing the reel Anxiety clicking with time My self – doubt will maybe? The inner voice begins to play The same old Sun awakes a new day This is I the
February, had just bid farewell to its 29th day, Knowing that it won’t see it for next four years And that’s why I guess the night seemed a bit longer And silent, and calm, and the wind chose to lazily
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
Were I decreed a free choice of fate, Insouciant orioles! We shall be one! Gold-tainted-black, early morn or late, I flit-flirt with you in the sun. No gravity of custom flags me down No laws forbid me to fly, flit
(Tribute to the Banished Silver Surfer – he is herald again) Please tell Galactus, I can’t do his will And shine like sap that drips from putrid pine, Stare into space from some ingested pill Or from a dose of
Photograph by “Alan Mackenzie” He screamed helplessness and fear, Anger arising in a depth of raw emotion, His exasperating anxiety and despair, This cruel mental decay of Alzheimer’s. Acceptance hung in the desperate air, Petulance always only a breath away,
There are just too many ghosts here To this haunted villa… Another day, another month, another Year well this is driving me crazy I’ve got to get out of here You make me nervous and I can’t Deal with the
I am an ocean of problems, With raging gulfs of anxiety, Thunderstorms of fears, Coral reefs of loneliness In me all the time, And in this turmoil I saw you as a shore, Calm and composed, A harbor for my
I have figured what is eternity, In longing, and boring hours of a day, Eternity could be anxiety, In half-second before a kiss would lay; Could love be measured in eternities? Does love subtract from life for lack of it?
Please, don’t look at me. My heart starts to beat a little faster from anxiety. Wonders speed through my mind Do I look gross? Do I look fine? Please, don’t shout my name. I go insane. I lose my words.
When Dorothy was a child she started building a castle with bricks of yellow and blue; But how could she have known that someday soon Each one will be broken in two. The bricks consisted of ideas and thoughts, colorful
Confused , lost , bloodshot eyes , A wanderer insomniac driven premise , Supreme anxiety , thumping palpitations, Pointless life dictated inhibitions , I Came at your doorstep, A depressed human being , A lifeless soul, Devoid of objectives ,
Razor Shells and fleshed-out stitches. Endless boredom, life just glitches. Non stop breeding and a circle’s lining, Eggs incubation, feelings thrown astray. I don’t need more problems, just stay away! Adorn a blanket robe like I’m 5 years old. Still
I’m a little weary, I might need some sleep, Reality I’m exhausted and I can’t even speak. I am feeling fine, yeah sure I am okay, Reality, I’m screaming but being drowned out anyway. Yes I am excited and I
A journey undertaken on destination suspect No direction to follow unsure what to expect Trudge seems endless unclear full of doubts Adding to quandaries of dreaded kind bouts All but me as company be done on one’s own None pointed
I stop praising others since we loved each other, Friends become foes as our friendship heaps on further. Night and day become one as your love made me mad, I dismay with dire of thought when you looks sad. Your
I’m no fun anymore, Not to be with or even around, I bitch-spewing hate is my second Favorite thing to do, Only topped by drinking, Reeking of cigarettes and whiskey, And I like dim places where the outlook is Bleak,
Who are forgivers? Forgiveness belongs to those with a big heart, people of a strong heart, and powerful in mind; ambassador of peace and jocund, those with heart of kindness and people with milk of benediction. Can you forgive? Yes!
I’m alive though all the years of abuse, but I’ve not been able to truly “LIVE” because my head is full of fog, confused and don’t know who I am. Suffering from anxiety and depression. I live in a prison,