Codeine Adiction poems bring the best collection of short and long codeine adiction poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great codeine adiction rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these codeine adiction poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on codeine adiction are here for you.
No. She’s not simply your good and nice neighbor next door. O, it’s true that she’s caring and giving, but there’s so much more. And she overflows with peace and security, with a lot more in store. No. She’s not
Oh laugh! Oh laugh! Oh my auspicious laugh, For how long you’d be hiding my cycle’s laugh; You are with me when others withdraw, You are the only one without a flaw; You give me confidence to face future’s laughs,
Oh sweet little flower Tell me what grieves your heart Did June send no shower That your small joys depart? Just nearby is a brook With waters crystal clear If you care, take a look Not a thing there to
Count your blessings you’re still here it’s 2018 another wonderous year. 2017 has passed us by ain’t it truly funny how time can really fly. Was 2017 a scream or just routine? Did it make you hoot and holler, kept
Dream not happiness feel the happiness If unhappy now feel you will be happier later If happy now think you will be happy ever If in a composed mood maintain the composer while in Ecstasy as well as in turmoil
Switch blade cross bones Skulls branded in a dark forbidden mast Asylums howl of the mentally insane Grafted in my brain once again Demonic emblems viscous fighting soldiers Once again off again romance with tarot cards Alone petrified evil cavity
When you feel yourself solitary When you are fraught with something When something doesn’t work right When thine heart is broken into pieces When you want to stand again but, You are tripping in your heart When your heart is
A heart become hardened by life’s painful knocks Can melt in the warmth of a smile And tender emotions locked tight in a box Awaken to brave a new trial A hope rendered fragile, extinguished by pain Can strengthen at
Well and as the music plays and everybody Dances to Mozart inside, I stand out here On the terrace all alone, outside. All alone except for the owls, the moon and the stars I might feel left out and down
This morning you thrilled me with leaves swirling Tumbling, cascading they zephyr-danced Dregs of the summer’s bright motes falling Heart in a whirl and my soul entranced All of my spirit caught up and laughing Breathless I swooped and I
Crestfallen tears mixed with the salty brine of the expansive ocean. Time seemed to pause, as if for one brief fleeting second. He took a plunge into the icy deep. Happily submerging himself in the inviting energizing enrapturing emerald liquid.
On 11July, 1994 a legacy was born Holding lovely roses without any thorn Lighting many caves which were forever dark; With Cherian, Anandi and Varsha named spark. Though small and fragile earlier in nature She never let any student see
He awakens To a wicked world Of His own design Where the Damned Live amongst The Divine Their perfect little lives An illusion Fueled by vanity As He searches The darkness for light And His sanity Rythm of the heart
A silent war with oneself devouring all the cells, the gory remains of words and grainy kisses of tears. A curved hook in the mouth to start a prayer for the freedom from whispers of brand and labels: liberation from
I travel between two worlds World of imagination, another of daily settings. I work, I talk, I sleep and eat And do all things, all for common blessings. My essential hours guide me To assume my conscious self Amid the
Sometimes we all get to feeling a little lonely and sad, sometimes the darkness can be so overwhelming there just doesn’t seem to be any light to be found but don’t lose hope God isn’t heartless and when you need
A useless space between the sentences, ghastly story does not end in black and white. Again the heart cries. I keep on knocking on the doors and then return to blackness. Sometimes people become insects. Cockroaches, ants and spiders, weaving
Hospitals are Bombed mass graves With cold bunkers And shattered artillery. Red army fights the white army Blue army fights the yellow army Drones land on the cranium Submarines torpedo through the aorta. Death is a wheelbarrow You hitch a
On this earth’s breadth and width So many reside. All live, and die. Some brief, some bold. The history of humanity; God’s manuscript! The good, bad, and some extremely sad. Heroes, villains, and victims; Stories of ordinary, and extraordinary He
Family. That’s what we’ve grown to be. From once not knowing each other’s names, To all being able to take the blame. The past 3 years, We’ve grown to become who we are, From the people that surround us. Our
He is an old man now, no longer tall, Shoulders hang, stoop low, as does his head. Hair is sparse, hardly covers his scalp, Teeth are worn, loose, and faintly yellow. Legs once firm and straight, now bowed and shaky.
Why did not you cross the black river and remained innocent? Unhealed, failed inside, broken and honest? You won the race, the space, the heaven. Moving away to the farthest blackness. Your god sits cross legged, clotting. Brown hands on
between unequals to and fro beastly joy of horror you want to press the trigger, timebomb, your laughter, and sneaky mind restless syndrome of legs you cannot stand on tiptoes to review the fall from the clouds the moon overshot
I am seeing my reflection, In your pure innocent eyes, You grin ear to ear, Taking in my surprise! You garland me with your arms, I wrap you in mine, My clouded self forgotten, I relish our big hug time!
Autumn is one of the four seasons of all Here, the leaves of the trees do fall. Night spreads it’s darkness prematurely And cold ascends with it cavalierly. Nothing’s different in the autumn of life Where the wrinkled cheeks and
What was that inside you which was not ready to accept the compound folly of a man? What worry do I carry tonight to my bed? An intentional leap into the very fire of mind? A virgin garden battles with
My gypsy soul, my gypsy soul, oh we are on the move once more. To hidden valleys and secret places, to hear the ocean’s almighty roar. I long gave up in denying the yearning of opening my wings to soar.
A little childhood collecting Waste papers on a garbage dump Asked me, “Am I born to do this job?” I had no answer A childhood begging on roadside Asked me, “Is my childhood born for begging?” I had no answer
Poetry is the heat, a part of my flame, it keeps me cool, envelopes in a frame. Am I sentimental, idle and worthless guy? Feeling keeps me human, passions let me fly. A force compels me to etch on papers
‘Twas on the eve of St Agnes’ Day, When young virgin’s minds fly astray; Stacey lay her body bare To January’s freezing air. She cast her liquid ebon eyes, Up to the boundless starry skies, Hoping to find in that