Bipolar Disorder poems bring the best collection of short and long bipolar disorder poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great bipolar disorder rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these bipolar disorder poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on bipolar disorder are here for you.
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
Bipolar Disorder is a strongly built conglomerate of depression and mania that yet fails to monopolize on the brain of it’s victim when under medication. Medication to bipolar disorder is like an audit; closely inspected, then revised when an error
Caught up in chores dreary beset with tedium mundane In a state devoid of passion caught in all trivialities inane Sapped of most evident ardor whilst trying to just sustain Endeavors notwithstanding but balance couldn’t maintain Removed from indulgences I
My mind is a place, and often I’m told Those who would venture are far more than bold Vast twisting caverns of darkness and light Thoughts in a jumble with no wrong or right Fear and disorder, perfection and truth
In the most unusual manic-panic creep, Wildly lurking behind every corner, The Shadow was about to recover some ungraspable but always constantly desired idea.. A fantasy, a darker shade of fantasy: a fun fetish. Or, perhaps, could it be foolish
The name, went begging to yield. Dispute was becoming a point of disorder. A fire on ice, I was burning inside. Unabated, the storm was raging in bush. The candor was lost. We were drying up in shade. One eccentric
Between the tremors falls the face in a glass of water. Sometimes false teeth reverberate through the pages of history; devastation sinks in. A faun rubs the landscape. Hatchlings come out when death-music stops. A miracle tends to quieten the
flirting with fire blowin it up in the most earnest desire her perfume was led to basement blues remove those shoes bask in the news then you will se a falsified game of reality in society we got hidden games
There was a time when I sat still. Soaking in unavoidable truth. Choosing instead to sit and bathe in a world of thought. The sun peeked through the window, concerned by the calmness that struck my lips. A sudden grip
Oh, to be a sad balloon… and sail the wayward wind alone To leave this troubled world behind, embark upon the vast unknown Yet somewhere.. I can hear the soulful song that loneliness intones I realize that there are things
Forged while in utero (the crucible concocting conception), the fluke of biology begat me – a happy go lucky boy, whose vulnerable uber travails susceptibly sprung sly as Tennessee Williams hip cat on a hot tin roof, where the faux
They said something was wrong with my mind Treating my “disorder” like a disease, how could they have been so blind? It was never that simple, the problem lurked deeper Never mind the blood and tears, it lay within the
Monologue of a monolith to live in a moment was futile. A young house was in disorder. Not listening, I would find the missing links. Grey ash to be smeared on forehead in horizontal lines for shifting the planets. The
It was midnight moon cruising in the bedroom. I step aside in the depressed window, watch the overwhelming spillover. I listen, then do not listen to alien voices of bipolar beings, speaking Aryan, artfully in cryptic signs crunching the bones.
My mother did many things right. But I’m thankful she taught me to be polite. Even with all that I struggles with in life, I never strayed from her advice. I needed her love more than dad’s. Not the many
Along with their desolate fortune, Old parents waiting for their unsparing children, Who left them in the barren garden, For the sake of their ambitions, They omit them between the world, When they needed love and care, They gifted them
My last hour, my brightest day; My last walk with the living, in my coffin of regret. Ah, joyous Delirium; weep for me not, for once I loved my arrogance of life, my wine of alloyed memories; now spilled upon
She went with the breeze,didn’t care what people teased. Narked,she told them please,just mind your own debris. Soaring like an eagle,she showed people her regal. They were filled with envy,but she was as happy as can be. Praising the lord
As I have aged and looked back in time I Wonder do Others minds think like mine. My knuckles have knurled, Hands have wrinkled in time. Skin browned and aged spots, Face cracked and crevassed, Sagging skin from sun and
I knew no gracious men in the city of my torment. They lacked knowledge, could not see I existed. I stared ahead focusing on my thoughts, memories, All I longed to accomplish. Trampled upon by them, determined, I changed my
I walk through crowded streets trying to find a face I pass by cold stares in search of a warm embrace I get nothing in return… No smile, no stare I walk with emptiness, uncoloured, unaware. Its noisy, I know,
Her mere name piercing through my Ear Sets my heart beat to the rhythmic romantic tunes Needless to say my life has completely taken a U turn for Good ever since my intrusion into the mystique and fantasy filled romantic
Am changing by the minute, my heart recognizes, my body hides it. Crushed I’ve exceeded my limit. The mind knows, but not my appearance. I forget my pain with medication, can’t give an accurate account. Some believe I’m a hypochondriac,
Something is hurting inside me Ripping my soul in two Its never right. Never wrong Its the way of things. Why? Why does this have to happen? I feel something. Breaking apart. Falling apart. It’s hurtful. Its not going away.
Dawn left bare bones Gave her his cruel temper, he, whom no one had ever loved Virgin’s blood shed not for pleasure but for body senses lust Flare of fire, modern world burnt Fugitives from Orion hide on Milky Way
A man cursed, can never bring happiness, a man condemned can never bring justice, whatever he touches, will turn to dust, whatever he makes will rot. whatever he desires, will never be his, whatever he loves, will get condemned too…
“They told me they were leaving”, He said, with trembling hands. “I believed them but I shouldn’t have, They still taunt me every day.” Stories like these, numerous I’ve heard- Of shadows long and shadows dark. These voices, shrieks of
Here are stoves uttering trilling cries of joy, their tongues orange, their clothes henna. Here are chumps hissing، lulling, bowing and crying with hot tears; We’ve got a newborn, his hair made of winds and tempests, his hat a cloud,
A green smoke was rising to ferret out the elusive pain without body. I went in search of fidgety words to patch up the conflicts of flesh. Bold as Passiflora, Crucifixion was complete. Today a gift of obeyance will arrive.
Her company recalls of strolls ….beneath mid-morning skies, Sheltered by canopy of clouds ….which stays but can demise, Her heart that always feels for birds ….the meaning of their cries, For bees if they have hives uncared ….so honey never
I was dreaming in silence A wave of division woke me up The wave was concocted The wave was fabricated The wave changed everything From religion, politics, traditions and faith The wave said you were misled The wave said you
You wake up everyday refreshed, Every meal you have is from Le Cordon Bleu, Every day at the office is nothing but concord and smiles, Your spouse the most attractive, your house the best sized and equipped, and everyone you