Biases poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of biases poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on biases are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Freedom to be Loving and kind. Compassionate and empathise. To be strong yet gentle. To listen and understand To be fair and stand. Freedom from biases Age old medieval and rotten prejudices. Freedom to be different to be alive and
Sitting by reminiscing how was once in past Cheery since lost epochs deemed forever to last Life was full of promises future not cared about None any compulsions not be done without Endearments unfaltering of birds, bees and rest Each
Girl Friend is fantasy; Wife is reality Girl Friend is thunder; Wife is tender Girl Friend is Demanding; Wife is Commanding Girl Friend picks your pocket Wife stitches your pocket Girl Friend makes you wait you make wife wait When you are sick Girl Friend says take care While
There was existence, without space. I was afraid of my unborn child. Inheriting the stammer of history I could not think of any brand abuse. On the contrary, fumes throw you off the road. Full moon rising on the cleft.
With full zoom to start day afresh I occupied my revolving chair in front of the computer screen and switched on the Internet to begin yet another day of oozing out random thoughts that have accumulated in my mind over
We are afraid today more than a lot, We choose to stay beneath our spot. We are so unbelievably protected From things that make us happy and connected. We are afraid of speaking up, We know we’ll do the stuff
Shooting star With a quicksilver mind, You deserve to go so far, Can’t someone stop you Before you ruin your soul, With irreversible harm? Drinking all day, Every single day, Out of your head on booze, Is this the life,
Wide awake, the double helix splits. Chasing the debris of refusal to die. The new genes choose to mutate, fencing the child who wanted to become only brain. No flesh, no bones. Will he survive on this date? In the
No snow falling tonight all is dark wet and dreich, Stars cant be seen all hidden by low lying cloud, Shepherds struggle market price for sheep is too low, children born in squalor no stables left, now turned to houses
Modernity aspires but is built on shaky ground. Our knowledge so finite, much built on superstition and ignorance. The infinite beyond ours to know. Slowly, so slowly our knowledge grows, building on itself expanding faster as time goes on. How
Meaningfulness of life is experienced by understanding the life around us A human being constantly remains heated up in the fire of struggles. that fire not only burns him but also melts him down heartiness and blaze are virtues of
I make ready myself for an insult and chest pain, keeping unshorn hair like nettles on contours, to take unknown turns for restoring the clouds on moon-blue hills, spreading the water colors on trees; someone inside the shrine was making
Self imposed sabbatical is nearly coming to end Time stood as witness all along as true friend Trials it has withstood tribulations too of sort Few were as expected some awfully fell short It needs introspecting to re jig and
Being not poetical, how pitiful it is, Sometimes I sit somewhere and watch the Slew of mass flowing over dusty street And a strange thought dawns in my mind How poetical these rushing souls actually are? Perhaps I know these
Somewhere and somehow, how and where I don’t know. But from ‘twinkle twinkle little star’, to the melody’a thing of beauty is a joy forever’we grow up. The past 15 years can be compared to the life of the ‘Brook’.
The deceased has 2 cusps of lid Not quite drawn down over the eyes – I wonder if they are peering askant Into the afterlife! Pale rouge belies The flaccid cheeks; pertinaciously hid The 90+ years he once was ambulant
All by myself, Surrounded only by my thoughts, In my home, With no modern gadgets of communication, No WhatsApp, No Facebook, No mobile, No ‘virtual’ friends, Away from all, In the real world, With my animals and plants, With my
Trapped in a box of vicious cycle, paranoid by his inner guilt, the laughter of darkness is agonizing him. No longer he wants to be alive , fighting his never ending nightmare, he lost his sight of hope, fidgeting to
Beyond the monstrous face Beyond the fenced feelings Beyond the dark night that came after our sun. Beyond the tongue that turned our lives, Into an orchestra of fights and we bowed for the end. Behind the screaming silence Behind
There are brightened screens on lazy afternoons, Queue up for a weekend getaway from our dull bedrooms, What’s your age, sex and location? Are you here for rendezvous or recreation? Thirty Sally whose a housewife, is looking for illusions, to
Life is a mixture of laughter and sorrows, Sometimes it shrinks and it grows, Sometimes it brings happiness and sometimes tears, But at the end it makes you free from fears. Life will give you reasons to smile, Or it
Sought by lasting connections, Throughout many directions, An ideal still remains, To us virtues accompany our name. Well though suffering on, In physical motions beyond, Every iota of faith, Around the same time every day. There just past valleys of
What might we say when the gears grate fitfully upon the uncertain gravel, earth spewing emptiness covered in grit upon the violets delicate, that keep smiling nevertheless? A curse struggles with a sigh and neither wins, defeated Being still morning
As mother nature’s Punitive measure Against a society In maintaining The statuesque That doesn’t bother, Our rivers Had become subject To a water thirst, To the extent Of projecting Rocky ribs Terrifyingly protruded out For easy count! But now thanks
When a crisis happens Our life is changed Either endangered Or rearranged Conflict precedes clarity Urges wars and enmity Enmity brings despair Wars are never fair Peacefully solving a crisis Wisdom is your oasis Responsible to grow Any person must
I am an American Poet coming from a long line of creatively challenged penman and women A Poet Prince relinquishing the earthly flow of jobs and declarations while punishing establishments organizations that diminish the fabulous flow. A lifeline for civilizations
A lame duck re-emerges from water of life, after paying for night of clouds. The sex determines the economy of a nation and democracy writes the future of a man. Who was bankrupt in poor country of rich people? You
Sky, draw my starry signature For a consenting wish to be alone To be alone, to be alone with my soul Till the Moon lately shown in all my enabling thoughts. Pleasant hours’ dimming glories Are weaving Earth’s new stories
Someday I’m crossing over, over to the other side, I’m going home with Jesus, there with him abide. Until my life is over, from life I’ve passed away, Jesus will be waiting, to take me home to stay. My spirit
Caught up in life quite mundane Searching for true happiness, finding only pain I’m forced to live where I can not be me I wish I could just break free Competition everywhere for which I don’t care It’s not true
My name has been written in a piece of letter, waiting for me to come for a warm conversation. I was lost… I was swimming into the imagination of the melancholy. Leaves were embraced in the street. It was autumn.
What is made when lightning strikes? Is sand turned to glass like a heart kissed by love, for the first time. pure, clear, refracting rainbows in the corner right above your bed caught for a split second in the summer