Confessions poems bring the best collection of short and long confessions poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great confessions rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these confessions poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on confessions are here for you.
Every day I pass by your window, Half expectant of seeing you there, Lost in thoughts As you always were, I wish I would chance upon, Catch a glimpse, Of an unexpected tear, Rolling down to smear Your pretty face.
“Molly confession” My Molly confession Best in love In love I stay with you A message long over due My baby You excite me Glee Lovingly taking Molly Enhancing a love between Us is where I want to be Seeing
I am so sorry The first words you say In your admission I was wrong follows next with down cast eyes In your confession the confession given in hopes of forgiveness is admission dressed in pretty clothes Your true intent
my father used to tell me that divorce was the process of losing one’s routine. 5:30 came and went without the sound of a familiar rattle from outside the door that came from my mothers keys. last night I got
You know the hardest things in life. Is to be supportive to a person who has serious problems and will not admit in having them. Life is like a streaming water flowing and still but deeper than and angry waves.
You’re inside a reality as dripped by Jackson Pollack everything guided, everything only seeming accidental. Straight lines eaten by curves and color as a sense of inevitability. Somehow it turns out as thousands of interlocking narratives, never a single start
Let us go then, you and I… Let us go then… Tired? Surprisingly, we have been saying this a hundred years. It haunts. The hallucination continues. No, it leap-frogs. Eliot was dead before I was born, before we were born.
Rain brings life and enthusiasm Raises people’s joy and grace, Makes the beloved to think And feel her lover’s presence. Rain drops sprinkles the earth Touches the heart of her, Makes the beloved to see And touch the face of
(1) When I used to be a coal-black ink over a snowy paper, she said: “your letters are locks, your words puzzles”. When I spoke with the remains of my string, she said: “your letters are plough blades wounding the
I am a desert that’s thirsty for your Love. Baby you are my angel sent from above. You were just a thought that grew inside me. And then you somehow set my soul free. No strings attached, no more holding
I slept, but not in peace For I dreamt of us in another place Of you in a benzene bloom Twisted and stiff in the roiling plumes Of fiery dragons eating your flesh Sucking the breath From your lungs You
Come morning I battle with flight or fright The start of righting wrongs, The splatter among these trees And fields that have been driven passed up In search of more than sugarcanes I still feel the butterflies How lithe things
How can i forget, Those days which, I’ve spent with you… Those useless topics, Over which we, Had debated… Those smiles which, We had shared, Over stupid jokes… That love which, We had exchanged, Over this small time… How can
Wanting more of you in the bed of moon, where present and past were disrobing. The bee stings, O my god, arrange the pure darkness of milk, hanging on persona of future. The yielding was painful, its blankness. You were
Some depth, my thoughts never touched, the moonlight fades on my window. The vague gratification, falls silently on my mind. Pausing on relativity, I open the door to eternity. Vast loneliness of qualms, like the cult of dancing doubts where
Today gives me an ethernal hurting of the raging night, my moon had crashed on the wings of flamingoes While saying farewell to crying winds of the creek when waves slapping sideways on crazy shores of silence, another watchman of
why walk when you can ride, she said the bus on fire the upper deck peeled back and dragging the asphalt laughing with the driver, trying to steal his hat then searching in her seal-skin purse for half a roll
The sun starts it’s descent, the bright golden orange visage encompassing the horizon, Dusk has fallen, day is done, The hustle, bustle of the day ends, Birds chirping retiring to their nests, The weather being clement, The cool breeze wafting,
They called me a king, back when I was still nothing. I knew they saw something, but I just couldn’t bear knowing… that I would never be a delicate instrument. Such as words said, uttered, written down on a piece,
There are no profound thoughts Lurking in wait Biding a moment Of introspection Analysis and conclusion Life’s pages are lived On a daily wage Of bearable work Endurable enjoyment Surmountable aftertaste Of egoistic flights Contained for the day By compliance
You could say that some people are a diverse beverage of preferences; some are mixed, some are stirred, and others are even shaken. Your dad’s anger reminds you of a mixed coke and rum, but his passion reminds you of
Shot in the face an insider tells the story of withdrawl of the vision thing. Crooked hands lift the frozen lake to drimk the elixir of death. Lonely home inspires the dark bird to land on the window of mountain
From the Darkness He molded the earth into a masterpiece where all could inhabit, all could live, created in His image we stood with no fear in our nakedness. The darkness that hides inside the darkness of the earth took
My love is fire, full of light Which makes surroundings bright Whenever she comes in sight My heart pounces with delight I have made her fortune and fate My life starts with that date When counters her graceful gait Soul
Love, beautiful and vibrant as we know, Each of us experiences this as we grow, The emotions they say one can’t hide, But does love also have a darker side? It makes us laugh, it takes us high, But does
love starts from something but people think it’s nothing love has a beautiful charm but there is no love without harm love is very pleasant every day is like an event love changes the weather in love people spread their
Her heart was like a clock that I wanted to stop and rewind the dial back. Remembering the beginning. Following the curve of ticks as everything around disappeared. The ticks and tonks that throb as pulse. The blossom of smiles
The hunter is lost in a wild forest, It’s a moonless night, Trees are dense; He can’t see the stars, Beats of his heart race by second to second, Shooting up, high and high on like frightening roars, Clouds came