Childless poems bring the best collection of short and long childless poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great childless rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these childless poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on childless are here for you.
A year has passed since she lost what made her an avis; A lot has happened since the tragedy and the crisis- Still she has nothing at hand and feels aimless! How is it that solving people’s problems is her
Two stars partially shrouded with clouds, Standing in the terrace to behold the glimmering horizon, That was Sikkim. Days after the torrential rain, And death People’s bodies were beneath the debris, And trees Be it heat or frigid, poorer dies.
I was on the road to revolution; when I met- The childless mother beating her chest in sorrow, the widow shredding tears of solitude, The motherless child crying for company, the father who had lost his son… For the road
Arcturus touches me pinpricks of a blood orange juice I walk naked in the night serenaded by frogs daring bats to tear mosquitos from my hair warmth of August stars ripple with atmosphere all those photons painting me the perverts
(Every adversity, every failure, every heartache carries with it the seed on an equal or greater benefit. Napoleon Hill) For him the moments in life appeared to standstill, everything seemed happy and went according to his will. There was beauty
I thought everything is forever lost, all my feelings buried and gone. I must have been cursed, I thought I never find what I desire the most. My broken heart was beating in vain, I knew I never be the
Although those many years have passed Having every bit of reason to grasp The true message in his songs Seen him twice in Hartford, Ct That brother made a dent in my true memory as a young G Spring love
There was once a time, That I ran with a band of mercenaries. Sometimes I sit back in my leather-bound chair, And remember all of them, clear as day… The quick, sly Boston lad, Haphazardly dodges and shoots His way
I mailed a letter to the almighty for the things I want, Instead the letter I received was attached with cowardice with it. A father with no spine neither free will to begin, Was one of the things God bestowed
When the sky seems so near, the clouds seems to sing the song of your heart, The stars dancing in cycles, cycling all round you, When the wind seems to be playing your favorite guitar tune and its Waves smoothly
Let no gust of wind, Seize the passion from your heart. Let no whirlpool, Sink the rowing boat of your moving life. Let no draught, Dwindle the endeavouring hands of your to work. Let no burning flames, Instigate you to
The dresser front is like a waterfall with a vibrant tangle of scarves that stumble out and down. Bed sheets rough-house with pillows. and a spread is spread but not on the bed. There are yesterday’s pants cavorting with last
The Fly lurks around putrid matter and delights in savouring human waste. The distasteful things we love to hate satisfy his insatiable taste for foul smelling things that are better cast in the bin from our very sight. He does
Cold stars reflected in the water Abyss beckons us his dark distance. Our world, only one of hundreds, In which we can not see the sun. In this world, I am uneasy, I want to touch other planets. Because there
After the rain, I finally saw; Multitudes of tints in the sky; painted with myriad hues; a reflection of rays so vibrant; violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red, striking dashes of silver and gold; butterflies flutter, dazzled by
The sky is sobbing and will not stop Drenching me with cold big drops. Dashing back indoors Dripping all over my clean floors. I shouted up to the sky “What’s wrong, why do you cry” A loud crash and burst
Peace-inner condition of mind- a quiet flowing river of invisible waves, sea wave of righteousness, money can’t buy. Peace-tranquility upon soul- calmness upon mind and body; those-you love-their home you make a resting place, your haters-upon them are disquiet and
Don’t look deep into my eyes, who knows what you find inside? Is it the dreams that I lovingly hide, or are some demons residing inside. Am too afraid to let you know, Even too scared to make the show.
In your eyes I have seen the fear Of the silence that follows death. Un-erasable, un-quiet-able silence. Of the loneliness that ensues And the realisation – That the dead will never return. That no matter how earnestly you try Conversations
Time gives And time takes. And where does it go, That what time Steals from us? Good Times Bad times. Us. Nobody knows. Are they lost to nothing? Are they somewhere else? Nobody knows. Doom? Salvation? Nobody knows. Those we
Incandescent lights stream across the stark blackened night breathing in the intoxicating smoke swirling around you; Deep cynical voices cackling manically rumbling through the dank dark corridors, phosphorescent lace velvet floating in the calm cool air; Tantalizing deep dank thoughts
I couldn’t stop loving you; Though every time I tried. It’s because whenever I needed you; Every time you were by my side. Roses were painted red; And sky was painted blue. But my life was dyed; With the lovely
Lessons and learnings exist in stories and tales ; in trees and flowers ; in oceans and whales ; But to no avail, Till we realise life does not move from milestone to milestone, But crawls through challenges and daily
My heart stopped pumping My blood doesn’t flow though my veins I stopped felling love and hate Yes, I am passing through the Death’s Gate I lived my life Complaining about the traits, And now when the time came, Why
I still have it your favourite pink roll comb with the smooth bristles and colourful buds on edge entangled with your hair which I never removed. It’s here. Hope to meet you someday and find your hair messy that moment
The birds are so bright with their song The rain from the night still lingers on The coldness of the breeze cuts surprisingly long The darkness turns to light and to the day you now belong The slumbering sleep becomes
You’re my personal brand of cocaine, surely you should suppress the suffering and numb the pain. My rose petal lips are engulfed in your kiss of death. I worship at your feet, when I have you, who really needs meth?
Morning came and dreams walked out, A savage life was knocking my door With harsh iron hands holding an unpalatable casket Loading grey flowers of troubles having colorful multitudes Immaterial my blinking desire, my aversion and perturb It ran in