Assumption poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of assumption poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on assumption are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
This is told in the perspective of a young boy. When I look at my mother, I picture her grave, Untidy and old, Covered in mold. I picture the knife , Used to end her, The pool of blood, She
Yes I am a woman, Married and with children. And you say you are attracted to me- Well I doubt what’s there to attract? I am age over to be attracted. My beauty fades every day with my chores, My
Stranded between the faces of a coin, Despair and lost around landslide jolt of the Highway, At the place where I shouldn’t be, With a hustle I grabbed a taxi from Siliguri, I was coming back home from an intense
At 10:30, Silence Dispersed,every edge withdrew with dark, The moon was pale, still brightening as diamond spark, At the tree, an owl hoot, at surface dogs barked. Sudden, I heeded, the sound of footsteps was appearing from the street, exulted
One look at me is all they need To assume and to believe There’s not enough of me The flaw is obvious, “you’re so short”, they all agree! It’s such a glaring defect that little else counts. The deception is
In a fleeting moment of your life you will make a decision that changes your life forever Remember that moment and you can see into the other future you would have led A memory of one’s self is a striking
The will to create and the wish to destroy, it is time you acknowledge, has never been yours to own, Because, in your vengeance, in your unmindful impatience, in your immaculate madness, when your soul turns to stone – You
It’s not just you, it’s also me. Why ‘s the all world tired of me? I’m not certain of my attitude, That’s the reason for distortion of my gratitude. I’m more random than a dice. It’s just six faced ,
One in love, yet two in a crush- Peering from oneself into another’s! Fall for or get by; all tears are a reality show- About care’s hollow amice of rendition! Riding chariots of audacity to halt the rash- Is a
Too careless what’s going on all around, Although in a cage she is kept and bound, The couple is not free and cannot fly, When she sees other birds in open sky, She turns his nibs to the pretty spouse,
What is this you call music, it’s embarrassing how times have changed, this is my generation we’re talking about, I really feel a shame. I miss the old school jams, felt connected to the beat, slow dancing to the music
Her heart is cold like ice Her scars are blood red Lips are smiling while she fights through the pain for which she is fed. One touch of her hand One kiss upon the cheek In your heart she will
A house mouse squeaks under the heavy wardrobe crumbs are falling from grandpa’s black pipe the ice cream got dry in the compote bowl my clock lags behind with a couple of polar nights not I I didn’t care for
You know how it is When I see through the prism When rain falls When the bonfires blazes my eye sight When the mud of rain drenched path Makes my mind untidy When that lone dog sleeps Under the foggy
We live in the land of the free. Freedom that is hard to see. Everyday another one of our rights is taken away. Seeing this with eyes wide open sends me to my knees to pray. People that are supposed
She cares for me too much, Her love is difficult to comprehend. But, when I ask her about it, She says, I’m just a friend. She comes with me whenever I call, Though sometimes, she’ll pretend. But, when I try
You ask me if I love you, I say I love you More than words can say and I will until my Dying day but I lie, it’s just a lie but I Don’t want to see you cry so
Restless, I rummage, I ruminate, I rile T’is dark, the world slumbers yet here I lie Tossing, turning, the shrill clock tick-tocking Midnight amplifying a roar of whispers inside Silly, frilly girl, a voice cackles a criminal cry Breathes a
Just like a Bonsai you stand strong and tall, Despite being just five feet tall. You rise high and refuse to yield, In rain and stormy weather, offering the best shield. You let us blossom and fruit, Ensuring we stay
While going away from you These thoughts came impromptu I love you my lovely Chicku Your purity and purity of Holy fire are akin You are the most cute and innocent face I have ever seen I can listen to
FITS AND STARTS For a cold winter’s day When you’re, maybe, all sad and forlorn, Here’s a tale, Which, to many, may not be known. It may not be a mystery, it may not evoke fear, But it shall make
It is that time again for all we have lost to be regained and our weaknesses to be strengthened and bent choices to be straightened. Come join me, let us rejoice make your choice because life is what we make
A taste of life was what I sought Peace of mind was what I lost Biting into chunks of a juicy life Chillies got into my nose and eyes Smoking from all orifices I ran to chill my singed senses
Emily was a recluse a quiet introvert she sat alone penning poems wrought with pain and hurt a lady great I do relate I too crave solitude though in her verse she did not curse and mine sometimes are crude
The baker said, I want brown. Sin-steeped chocolate sauce, Caramel crusty and burnt, Cashew roasted to an infinite dark. The painter said, I want brown. Raw umber, tempered With a downy fawn and spiked With shots of bronze. The chef
What is enduring love? Thought she And does it exist for such as me Is this the greatest GIFT to give That makes hearts sing and spirits lift Enduring love, survives all pain Thriving like a flower in summer’s rain
The incessant lapping of ripples, Sounds of waves that swell and fade, Mask all the murmurs and whispers Of amblers on the moonlit promenade. The hovering darkness of the night, Ignored by the roaring sea outright, Rising and falling to
And only when I unclothe every memory – then I recall. When was it – when I have been a man. A half was taken from me when Logos was radiated. A half was taken from me when nebulas were
Man of few words, He scars his badge of honor kept himself a shield of neglect, holding onto tears that dripped no longer an ode sang the orientals ” ‘t was summers of an ancient time, He had visions of
A Majestic stretch of marble lambasted the sky above, While the river Narmada revered and whirled flow below A sight so lovely beholding overpowers mind and soul For this mighty sandstone wonder many ages old Where Nature’s artisan carved lofty
Your eyes are dreamy like a bright night. Or the sun’s reflection on oceans and seas. Your kisses are sweet heavenly bliss, like standing in a forest full of trees, inhaling the summer’s breeze heavenly mist. Your touch makes my
Fall, fall, o water falls From peeping cliff of mountain walls Fall, o fall. Angel of heavy downpour. Thy careless treading on shapeless stairs Burst out in very next delve Laying bare the weary water slope. Lass of joyous birth
Oh Midnight Angel higher than a kite throw your clothes and a few things together and drive your new car like a bird in flight back across the Georgia state line whatever the weather never you mind you know every
The sky is aglow with last rays On altitudes twilight lingers late And saffron clouds hang like lanterns In the vast dusky firmament So deep and gloomy are my thoughts But not in the net of melancholy caught I might
Night, oh playwright, to the soul’s loneliness I quest every line, beneath your cover One to recite, for heart’s harmonious So my part may be played — with another But stages, — life — dropped her encore curtain How heavied
Keep Your Heads Up, Keep Your Heads Up High. Some Days Will Be Rough But Don’t Cry. Things Will Get Better; You Won’t Always Be Struggling Forever. The Day Would Come When Things Will Change. I Know Right Now
‘Charge!’ cried the infantry, pushing forward block by block, Paving way for others to follow and stalk – Resulting in heavy casualties on both sides, All for a king too reluctant to fight; Queen, Bishop, Knight and Rook, Fight to
Anyone can see what color is. anyone can see. it’s this. Black on white In a multicolored screen. black on white On paper seen but what is color? You can look at me in an awkward style or you can
Why do I do the things I do, and why do I feel bad after doing them, It is as if I have a constant desire to desecrate all that i thought sacred once want to be a man with
Words are left unspoken, feeling are listless We speak, but barely talk Venice was never so far Your silence kills me My effort is futile, the love we had is an empty boat Sailing with no hope to reach ashore
