Disappoinment poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of disappoinment poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on disappoinment are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
That Life is a gift hardly we realise It Life is undoubtedly a Beauty that we know but we see it as murky We rush to get appointment but end up with disappointment Outstanding was I in studies Missed being
You will see me someday, the open wound deep inside Seeing only the truth, despairing I hide The growing bitter bed, you will see and obey Together, apart, we wed, sever the day Like a raw raisin pit, I won’t
On periphery of gestures and casts I speak for fading integrity while a fossil of a scream was stolen from the womb of language. On becoming silent, an untitled truth shakes sensibility. Small vignettes track the battleships of calligraphy. The
Lifeless it leaves, once it touches you.. Mistrust discomforts. Nothing can yet be better than this, that is why it is a four letter word, Love. Powerful, oh so powerful, the earth carries it like a fool. Attraction is now
Rain on my pane, Making a mirage of raindrops, You may drizzle, Come as a downpour, Or take me into a tempest. Touch me when lonely, Weave into my heart, Dripping with comfort, Soaking the soul, In your silent ways.
The pettiness of people is pervasive. Those who feel better when others fail. Feeling contempt and envy when others succeed. Reflecting ugliness behind their backs. Makes them feel better , superior somehow. People sniping at those after leaving the room.
Desperation clouding my vision Knowing that I hate my decision Accepting my struggles, emerge from compassion Deriving fear, overshadow actions Nervous, waiting patiently Conversation and reasons to love occasionally The storm reassures my edgy, confused mind All I have been
From birth to death I am on alter Everything is destined then how can I falter Without no fault I am defaulter Only good faith can be exalter The creation has to follow path of creator Between good and bad
The visionary, Atlas, Shrugged his shoulders as he regarded The city of kings, Collapsed under its own weight. Remnants of an unachievable dream Haunt the few remaining halls, Corrupted and skewed creatures That feel no remorse, and The servant girls
Upon the land far away is something different I dare say the look of sandy beaches and palm trees are set on top of flowing sea reeds where in that distance of the land is something different seen at hand
I am your child,yet you choose to ignore that fact I am your flesh the fruit that proved other trees that said you can not bear wrong. I shamed your enemies Wrapped their faces in shame with believe that you’re
The patter of feet The scatter of toys The laughter at playtime My precious boys Two tiny bundles An expression of love Two tiny blessings Granted by above Two matching trikes Side by side Counting the numbers As they hide
Literary Lessons #1: A poet should above all be devoted not to being copyrighted, but quoted. #2: Divine inspiration is no excuse for bad poetry. #3: In literary style, I endeavor to follow in the footsteps of Dickens, Poe, Dickinson
In unaligned loneliness, tonight, a liquefied moon will fill up my glass, and my shadow will sit beside me and we will drink the pain. Lets’s settle in twilight of stars and think not of violence of crawling and inflicting
Those days the sun flew over me like corn flour, freshly ground at the millrace. Even in winter it was yellow when I pressed it down with my thumb, like an unfastened button on my chest. I could hardly cut
Though you’re laughing and dancing, in front of the looking glass, deaf ears can’t hear your whispering, I’m emanating your sadness. Lure them with my elder names while you’re seeking the cradle. Spin, spin around, live the dreams, be drunk,
All night On the neural paths, have rushed – shiny – The shapes of the world, yearning for Scepters of mountains And valleys and rivers of ice And prairies and lakes and forests, endlessly. Yet it would not be the
I have no hi-fi desire, To overcome the mountains. I have no hi-fi desire, To bring draught to the water filled oceans. I have no hi-fi desire, To tread beyond the dark clustered clouds. I have no hi-fi desire, To
They’d whisper to you, ominous things, With damned, grim faces giving bad tidings, Just to cause you to panic, And when you’d turn away in distress, Jauntily, they’d flap their wings, and wink at each other, Knowing that soon enough,
No one saw in those hands the stone But people propagate that he pelted apparently kept mum on my stumbling but water springing from fountain says cried stone stone will never clash with the irony emotions of love For clashed
Everything we know, or think we know, comes from an infinitesimal speck of time and space. “Important” people, just random specks of insignificance. Nothing more than Sea Monkeys, fluttering around Sea Monkey world. Everything spoken as truth only reinforces ignorance.
I have agreed to cede an unwritten moon in a killing frenzy, for a chequered spirituality. Now visitation will start ravishing the light at dawn. The grievers will assemble for a final scoop of dust. Forgive my star, for a
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
We all speak of love and loss But do we really know the cost? Not appreciating their presence, Till they have reached heaven. We all speak of forgiveness and forgetting. But are we even trying? The act of claiming to
The ocean stretched out into infinity Like an endless dancing bluebell wood Gathered together and wrapped In fluttering silken whispers, Sometimes glowing sun paths Criss-crossed azure memories And once more painted them Into existence, and again Life songs grew close
Right on top, you were inching slowly. United in hate they were tracking you. Trespassing the epochs you want to go back in stone age to retrace the steps of a homeless sapiens. In the brown desert of high hunches