Defect poems bring the best collection of short and long defect poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great defect rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these defect poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on defect are here for you.
I am the Reason for a process With many steps in progress To save time,money and distress To lead a program to success I am treated by priority Considered by severity By the testing authority To maintain product clarity I
You raise your wings like an angelic insect, sent with a goodwill message to deliver. Hovering around flowers gay with a gentle touch, and the kiss of life of a kindhearted fairy. You are truly blameless of anything scary, bringing
Of all things sentimental. She came through the door wearing a suit of armor. The door closed behind her with a rattle and tick of swaying arms. With rust around her eyes she longed to be melted down. A drop
One look at me is all they need To assume and to believe There’s not enough of me The flaw is obvious, “you’re so short”, they all agree! It’s such a glaring defect that little else counts. The deception is
alternate title: debut of Amelie Beth Harris – McGeehan First borne progeny to the late Harriet and current octogenarian widower Boyce Harris her birth delivered more than the sum total of a healthy baby girl, she gurgled with contentment as
O light, where liveth thee? O light, darkness kills me. O light, will you ever come? O light, you only seek some. O light, why does dark haunt me in your presence? O light, go away, you have no essence.
Sometimes I just sit and observe its serene soft white splendor It makes me calm, tranquil and peaceful and full of vigor Its pure white glow makes everything look calm and nicer Even people’s faces look friendlier illuminated whiter It
Heartbroken, Alone Silent Trapped by thoughts Strangulating In a dark dream of despair How long will I endure The silence of love How long will I bear The mass of dying hopes How long can I fight The curse of
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
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
Someone connects a bonsai to elemental peat. Your visual collides a clay bite of water, deepening the bottom of invisible fence. My primrose was waiting for you. Polychromes become volatile. An inventive missile leaves the trace for a predator to
Lead me into, the green darkness, under the nude flames. It was hurting; the golden sun. Out of full moon, werewolves would come out chasing the flesh, the long limbs of silence, in asci of fluids, stopped in tracks. No
Nightfall over the temple grounds A full moon expressionless without a sound Grudgingly grants its pale luminance Obviously tired of its nightly performance A starry canopy of quietness and tranquility Punctuated by harmonious chanting of such gentility Silhouettes of monks
Mrs Murphy stares blankly out through the backyard door The pigeon coop stands open since her children went to war Pals and chums filled the streets from Old Swan to the Albert docks The sons of the Liverbird leaving in
Sixth sense, a magical phenomena, a super natural phenomena, a gift bestowed upon some people by the Supreme Lord. Each and everyone has got sixth sense; Only those who are spiritually connected to God, Experience the direct perception of truth.
Here I stand, on the land where you wish me to dig my own grave with few seeds in my clenched fists hiding them from your glance Watching you write on my gravestone a name you gave me, ‘Frailty’, though
There is a beauty. A beauty like a connection with the past and future. The beauty is shining. The world revolves around it. It seems everything is drawn towards it. The beauty is magnificent and unrealistic in size, Like a
Maybe, just maybe, love is not a forever thing you know? Maybe it is just an evening spent taking crowded trains to unknown stations figuring announcements in foreign languages and wandering walks through dilapidated bylanes full of squishy muck and
The restless weather curses me, Why not fly back to your nest thee; There where you always belonged, Where thy heart longed. The Lady waiting on the streets in those eager evenings, Those roads are lost in the new beginnings.
With values life will get aid And illicit, bad, nature preyed, Without them we remain maid Who follow like weeds swayed. Are we void of them paid? Yes, but temporarily laid, Laid with burden and stained. With values we are
An uneasy blood cascades in the slender arteries when you, that I wanted to touch disappear into twilight of memory. Always a sense of bereavement. why do I care for you? Time drops like an old coin in the hands
I was happier When I didn’t Know any better Middle aged now Rushing toward Rushing from Half tasted meals Unfinished books Tendonitis rampant Tell myself tomorrow That’s happiness Tense with impatience Silence falls Odd in the city Then windchimes Transported
What is happiness if I don’t feel the plants feeding through my roots and the blooming smile on my lips being their blossom’s smile? What is happiness if I don’t feel the wings of my soul being the bird’s, flying
A mother sits by a graveside, Tears rolling from her eyes She doesn’t know the reasons, The what fors or the whys. Men who wear their business suits, Who only care for oil and cash, Sent her son to faraway
You left a spectral smile that stalks my mind, To haunt my only niche in Time and Space, My every thought in reverie I find, Reminiscing your compassion and grace; You’ve gazed into my eyes, fathomed my soul, To bare
In the land of dull knives I was a sharpened spoon master of grapefruit lake bright at midnight dark at nine weather swirled pin wheel frigate birds drove themselves into the teeth of a hailstorm feathers dancing on the agate
This came to me while sitting in my room reading poems of doom and gloom. Other poems of despair and dread, even poems were people wished they were dead. What, did you miss taking our meds? ‘Cause you can’t do
Rushing Blue into the arms of Red, Overwhelm Robin, To render melody, In tandem with the notes of cowbells, With the beat of ripples rolling down the stream, Whispers the wind, into the beings, Waking them from deep slumber, Urging