Frienship poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of frienship poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on frienship are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
You really truly helped me being there when no-one was, The fact you came to be with me meant such an awful lot, You revived my instability just by being you, Thank you for you time and strength; helping me
A true friend who will stick with you through thick and thin, on Him you can thoroughly depend. Now you may not comprehend whe He offends, but He will amend because He’s a GOD send. Closer than a brother, father,
Whisper not immortality to me.. For I have already won that game, These hollow golden crowns deceive me no more, my dear friend My road has been a masterpiece of chaos in every beautiful form, So abundant in robust convictions,
I gathered insufficient number of perceptions, because I put them into old bottles. I walked an endless distance from this permanent peak in the desert to the other camel hump. Is it progressing – It’s not in my hands. I’ve
The Muse Who is the Muse that stalks my Mind? Who is the Muse this poem, propels? Or does the poem, Muse impel? Who is the Muse in Meditation For attention protests? Answers I seek from my gentle sage. “Your
About days, when heart is alone.. Familiar faces but the soul is unknown.. The voice is unheard, Albeit it is loud, since I thronged by an extensive crowd.. About days, when home is Abode Moments are time and path is
An acute feeling as if an arrow struck me – vector of time, unidirectional flow of existence became clear to me. I saw its beauty in brighter colors and stronger forms. I felt that I was born. And I knew
The wind whirled, turning at a point, The bamboo leaves sounded cracking after being bent- With the “U-turn” of winding blow- There is no way to know- When the wind will change its phase- Turning to east or west? Only
Something lies dead here. Something, that until yesterday Was the source of all Beauty, Whose warmth dimmed Every shadow of loss And sedated pain. What it was, I cannot say- Perhaps it was love, Or an idea or a belief
The lines of time stretched pulled torn ripped apart. As the time passes, it is as the distance, grand yet minuscule, an odd yet frightful reminder. And as it grows, the pain loses precision, the sharpness fading, like morning fog.
The heart of a male romantic expresses his feelings born from his own pen rather then purchased in a card He is moved to comfort the one who holds his adoring gaze He will make her feet float softly on
The day I started writing poetry I stopped reading books As after that I started reading Many other things Like a person, birds and animals Sometimes I read trees, Sometimes a lake, Sometimes the whole nature My games have also
What a beautiful dilemma it has been to name it bearable or unbearable. For if I opt for the latter, the pain conquers me at a stroke. Swallowing all the blood, breaking me into null, it vanishes my identity to
The war is not enough, The death is not enough Now someone maintain a silence Because they want some more death, And many of them want to live, But don’t forget, they want death, So many deaths! Is it mine?
My mother did many things right. But I’m thankful she taught me to be polite. Even with all that I struggles with in life, I never strayed from her advice. I needed her love more than dad’s. Not the many
The breeze sent startling chills down my neck The snow drifted as my eyes settled on one fleck My breath was as rapid as plundering ocean waves I hopelessly scanned for a comfortable cave My legs dragged memories of significant
And he has waited for her since eternity, eternity still awaits him. He has spanned infinity, infinity separates him from her. His love is true, eternal-infinite, beautiful. She is Absolute: true, eternal-infinite, beautiful. In a moment and a movement, she
The bygone art, a dead shrine; Thou not dead, thou live… shall live By art of carve that plays on and will it play Forever, timeless, in century’s lap The beauty, thou struck me a year back: So calm, so
The clouds shuddered as if stuck you knew what would reach you would not be a gentle breeze as stupid and slow as you’d ever be looking for a barrier a shield managing to take one step back before ragdoll
Walking out of the body I was drowned, accepted and condoned by depth of sorrow. A wide circle of testosterone giving pardon to a sin becomes sexless. You were overwhelmed by the missed beats. Your prosaic crime of not fathering
The need of the hour is peace As the consequences of war are not like breeze Countries are grouping, so are the citizens Unity is strengthening, but, against other unions Deployment takes place to deplore another state The death of
He plagues me Filling my mind with anxious darkness He chases me Haunting me through the day and into my dreams He curses me Young years replaced by pain He mocks me Telling me I am nothing more than a
Living with purpose, loving with intent, Meaning what you say and saying what you meant, Believing in yourself when others disbelieve, Keeping your eyes open when the others cannot see. Hoping when you’re hopeless, hoping with your heart, Finding your
Living in a cyst, it would explore the breast. The black ethics goes beyond the bounds of mystique of non-movement. A while away a conflict comes out of the body. Melts into a face. There is no flesh, no skin.
Scared, timid, silent, sound it had no more, Rough and dead, its breath seem to fade, Flesh darkened, ripped apart from the soul, Cover the portions of my love, The Raven pleaded for its dying soul. I use to hear
When that drop came to see you my heaven was just that tear Just my conscience could smell you without the nose which was already taken My heart beat just stopped like the ruined clock in your room My legs
In the cosmos of your arms I defy gravity float buoyantly never to return from the abyss of your love. In the ocean of your eyes I dive deep to unravel hidden pearls surfacing not an option In the sunshine
Yiruma The piano quietly drifts along, As another beauty quietly drifts from my life… The time is coming to an end, The song; I wish I had the words, To say… Goodbye… But the instrument has nothing written upon the