Equity poems bring the best collection of short and long equity poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great equity rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these equity poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on equity are here for you.
His middle names Hussein First names barack, by the way The president of the united states And here he lives, born and raised But people like to complain About his “undeserving fame” All because of that Muslim name? What a
We had fun playing hide and seek in barns stacked high with bales of hay In the heat of a hot summer’s day, we couldn’t swim, but jumped in anyway. We would play in forbidden areas, even though we knew
To shed a layer of selfishness, watching it fall to the ground beneath me in flakes that wail as I brush them aside and step away from myself. To bathe in sweetness, indulging through every pore with chocolate and chemicals
Love is… A flower that blooms inside the heart, But its fragrance spread far open wide, A star that shines brightly in the sky, But visible in twinkle of the eye. Love is… A unique combination of infinite feelings, Feelings
If I could write you a love song, I’d do it. Sitting in this cool, silent cabin, Watching through a window framed by Pines, the afternoon as it ages and dies, I’d spin a melody in notes tender and True
Born into a world full of complex conditions, an ever changing tangled web of confusing contradictions. To live; to thrive; to barely survive oppressive commands from the central hive. When the ashes settle; when no chill breezes blow, only then
Best friends are angels sent from above, They deserve every bit of your true love. This relationship is beautiful and wise, Rendering to life a spirit that never dies. What will happen in the end? To a life that has
Living someone’s else death? Was that an explicit experiment? Starting with an Adonis to stitch the wounds of angels. An unlikely walk through the tumor of breast, where no milk ejects the ancestory. I hold the words without meaning. It
Thoughts come racing through my mind. I am trying to grow, but I need to unwind. Encouraging myself to do what I must, But when it comes to facing it, I feel like dust. Dry in ideas, and blowing without
Impatient with the world Engulfed in flames of fury RAGE IN CONTROL Nothing PLEASANT Screaming in my Head READY TO EXPLODE No more SMILES Bitterness with a cold heart DESPERATE TO LET GO Seeing things through RESTLESS eyes Feeling TRAPPED
(Tribute to the Banished Silver Surfer – he is herald again) Please tell Galactus, I can’t do his will And shine like sap that drips from putrid pine, Stare into space from some ingested pill Or from a dose of
I was dumb struck to see a beautiful damsel approaching me, flashing like Sun rays piercing through the silver lining of the cloud , and rolling down like a twinkling star is she a mere fragrance of flower is she
What happened to the dandies Those gentlemen of the grandest Culture Destroyers of dreaded boundaries Mockers of meaningless morality Inquisitors of a profound lack of imagination Guardians of good taste Messengers of modernity What happened to those 19th century hipsters
You know, I just write as it flows Sometimes poetry Sometimes prose Who knows… What this life brings Who knows… When the nightingale sings Yesterday is history Tomorrow is a mystery Today is the truth Now is the reality I
It gathers, always been here. Waiting within. Pushing to control. Finding a home in some. Fighting those it can’t control. Weakness, exploits, control, power. Power/technology enough now to control the world. Insidious it hides it waits for global domination.
In the womb of a test tube the male conjugates with the female, to germinate the genesis of a genus In a petri dish under the optics of a microscope a genetic engineer denudes and rapes the genus with a
This poem is On the basis of the thought written by Shakespeare in Julius Caesar , ” the fault dear brutus is not in our stars but in ourselves ” They searched and searched Their entire life For a fault
Cold, hatred, full of sin All the evil in the world within Turning all dreams into nightmares Throwing put downs everywhere To your worst enemy she will chain you Expecting you to one day be like her too She is
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.
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 thunder did flash and the rain did fall, The wind too stirred up and started to creep and crawl. The sky turned dark and the lightening tore through, On and on it rumbled, a sinister grey the skies grew.
Everyone’s moving in a state of grey content to blend in and fade away. In the wastelands full of beauty you reach out your hand, come fly with me to the distant lands. Oh alien inhabiting my tired soul, let
there is a smile below there is a smile above betwixt the heart of praise a lonely heart found love a soul devides then parts on every circumstance we can learn to take part in the dance in quiteness I
Sleep is an everlasting wealth that never enchants a highway man who seldom fails to snatch anyone’s heavenly sound sleep. Sleep is a miracle that soothes the one who is deprived of worry the one whose life style is systematic
And my words won’t move you, Neither do I pretend to, To move some pound of flesh, Nor I care too. And these words would fight, Entangling within themselves, They would corrupt souls, And dwell upon a spell. They would
This day of sixty fruitful weeks shadow pristine relics of bundled keepsakes adorned in obsolete gazettes of passing snow storms, puppy training and next door’s junk mail. Transition logs re-call six states, five military orders, four duty stations, six rusted
Ask yourself, Who am I, Then when you’ve tried effortlessly hard You’ll get a positive reply. Like, I am the last king of the universe, Which is an enormous lie, But you still see it as the truth, Even though
The aesthetic beauty of twilight , Reminds of a lost soul, In the fleeting moment of bygone years, That vanished to oblivion, Surfacing in the sea of thoughts, To bring back the silent hopes, Wishfully strewn in path of life.