Destitute poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of destitute poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on destitute are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Was it really so necessary, For you both to get married; Was it so obligatory, For you to divorce and separate; Was it damn compulsory, For you to get me born; Was it really really required, For you to leave
When I was borne my mother passed away and one day father also left the hut leaving me alone and my destiny was now homeless, helpless and orphan vagabond I was now roaming around the road and streets in search
It’s said search for happiness Is the main reason for unhappiness All our life we search for happiness, We wait for some big happiness to come our way In the run, in the rush to get some big happiness We
Treating wife as a lover makes life so romantic Treating children like friends brings parents so close Worshipping parents like God makes life so sacred Treating friends as siblings make the relationship so special Taking care of the sick and
I know not what Happiness is I suppose it must be when I was an infant sucking mother’s breast milk in hunger I don’t know what happiness is all about may be what I felt when I became topper in
With endless poverty gleaming in their eyes, Dreams, desires and will to live; Everything has faded to get fled, In a beggar; a living dead, A zombie on the streets. With an affirmative urge in hesitation, Cohesively willing to die
Getting into the room of a poet is like entering the cell of a prison unknowingly the prisoner… but you must keep quiet… because, such is the freedom of being kept behind bars, myriads of butterflies of freedom sleep there
Speak! My love to tell of how, this arc of circled light Might break upon darkness to dawn with unrequited might. Despair! Rides upon the night, unseen, unfelt, rich with life Through unwanted correspondence pain cuts with a knife To
Penniless, I get up in the morning having eight hours of sound sleep feeling fresh and happy. don’t you feel I am rich in spite of being Poor ? Milliner, I get disturbed sleep the whole night and get up
He walks down cobbles and blows bubbles for a pilgrimage of constant troubles, closing doors to tax men, running for milk floats, shunning almighty bible bashers, paints the flags of east London fascists Charlie chicken soup with a head like
A lost soul on stolen time wonders like a landscape drifter For I am that which stands before you, a bottom feeder and shapeshifter Wizards watch wrath without wondering why Wither away like roses in winter whispering a thundering cry
It was just her fifth birthday, When she learnt to search for truth, And she questioned everything she learned, From then, right through her youth. She asked who had decided, Only boys could play in dirt, But her mother said
All my walls are taken down, Nothing but little pieces of rubble, And I try to pick them up, But I fall down myself in a puddle; A puddle of hatred, of ribbing I’m broken and completely inside, I’m stupid,
It is but sense to be aesthetic Love and beauty but do appoint To be in love is to be an heretic Both these culminate at one point Love is fire to burn heart and soul One remains but in
I woke up and saw Morning blossom with Drizzling drops of rain Clouds darkened the sky Like dragons up the alley Lightning struck like they Fired to scare away the aliens Pavements were washed to welcome All loners home for
February, had just bid farewell to its 29th day, Knowing that it won’t see it for next four years And that’s why I guess the night seemed a bit longer And silent, and calm, and the wind chose to lazily
Her face used to have a happy smile, but now it has a vacant stare New years are a time for celebration, but for her it was a humiliation. She became a toy in the hands of revellers, who felt
Wander through a forest Embrace its candid beauty Swing from the brawny branches of the robust trees, like an energetic child with an insatiable zest for existence. Marvel at the autumnal colors; poetic fodder for the Mind’s Eye. Build a
Oh! Dear Almighty, No one ever imagined, nightmares could be so fair; It showers bullets, its floods human blood; The black masked men, taking everyone in their den; The den lying in the hell, ringing our death knell; Bodies are
They give him fruit He hits them with axe. They give him shade He vandalizes the rest. They purify the air For him to breathe in, He sheds their leaves Making them cry within. They give him water To quench
This world has a large crowd of shadows Substances innumerable with their density Relative to their actions For everything has life with assigned actions Light symbolizes virtues While darkness vices So why shadows are always dark Even though shedding of
Pretty, colorful flying graces, Gliding in air, twittering everywhere, I have seen their smiling faces, Loyal to spouse, no affair. Working hard, at their best, Collecting something, knitting a craft, Making a nest for love and rest, And to lay
The hollowed eyes were ringed with lines, The parchment skin was cracked and old, The tattered rags that served for clothes, Gave scant protection from the cold. Yet on that corner every day, Without regard for wind or rain, He
A pagan will search for antiparticles after a collective wrong: some tantric will throw up the smoke rings before the paean starts. Come, stand beside me, sadness is going to find me again on the oak tree. A hairy spirit
Achieving this dream Of words That consist of destroying My inner storm And Opening old wounds The lingering of pain As if salt was just poured Achieving this dream Would mean saying my goodbye’s To the ones I loved the
Memories of pine strewn air Of long ago On those cold early mornings Enrich the day with color Confiding in childhood once again Warms the heart in an insecure world Tethered by arms of history Entwined by a web of
I am a tenacious spirit with wild hair I look crazy at times which is why you all stare I don’t care, stare if you want I don’t mind your teases and taunts I am unique and embrace who I
A Word is a seed of life ! A word a seed of harmony Between you and me For we are intimate friends , never in disharmony. A word a seed of jealous Between she and she For they are
Push the world a little harder And bring it closer to the sun. Celebrate each dazzling day Triumph all gorgeous clouds Paint a rainbow on your sky! Who cares about the clouds? When you have got a smile That brings
By candlelight crooked fingers drew a face on water for the sake of sun. Night will tell the fate of flame. Smothers with Magnolia’s gloss. There was an eerie silence near the alarm clock. Time to wake up. The flowers
Preparation. Fear. Worry. An open door. A desk A pen An A4 booklet Noise Suddenly Sitting Quiet. A voice Instruction Begin. Reading Questions. White paper. Cryptic I can’t understand. Fear. Worry Panic Sweat SCREAM silently Tears Breakdown Closed Brain-death Failure
Falling asleep deeper and deeper reality fading within my slumber, clearer and clearer it would become the dream I’d dream. So in this reality now I’d be. So which is real the dream I’d dream or waking up from where
Today, after four months I am leaving you for two months Not because I am bored with you But for an endeavor of maddening essence You offered me the ideal of all bliss Starting with the romantic weather of the
I’m sorry, terrified, I truly fear snakes. To kill one, I don’t have what it takes, Its bite I’ve never had through my veins, But my fragile thoughts with horror it stains. Its hiss, more louder in my ear than
Like ashes stacked in a jar of indifference tightly capped to mask a stench so cruel from cigarette butts worth riddance- you caused me self decay and dismal. You put me out like those cigarettes in an ashtray of cares
Hunger comes back like a dagger on face. With iris and fingerprints. Live, fluttering butterflies, stuck on lampshades. Wrecked, frozen, the ending of seeming. Men in cages. They were diluting the culture. Chlorophyll siphoned off. No color, no sprouts. The
Somewhere in a cottage down by the lake lands hidden out of sight…superstition is like a religion no one understands… well and in the darkness of the night Lightning strikes the water parting the rain as I sit here by
Into the menu smiling cheeks reflect, candlelit white tablecloth, islands amid the carpeted scurry of busboys and waiters in the backdrop of our night Tinkling laughter and ice cubes accompany depths of conversation overheard, yet unheard from couples in quorum
You said it was a sin to trade for the hunger. I was looking into your eyes, something was amiss, tears had become stones. How long your breast was carrying this despair? You said it was a crime to hold
