Grenfell poems bring the best collection of short and long grenfell poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great grenfell rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these grenfell poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on grenfell are here for you.
Thank you for finally listening Although now it is far too late. The death toll continues climbing While nervously you speculate. Black clouds of neglect still shroud us; ferociously the flames rage on It’s 16 hours and counting Our heartache
I am quiet. I am the observer amisdst the chaos, I am beneath the shallow water, Below the deep oceans, Where solace and peace settle, Making the place their home. I am quiet. I do not need any justification to
Fingers printed on face they offered apologies for the mudslide after the typhoon standing on the mound of twisted bones; the state had the right to trample and extinguish a bright flame, a meteor, streak of dissent only the sect,
I am a warrior, fighting the battles of life’s challenges, tripping over the cracks on the sidewalks, drinking cold coffee, listening to sad songs, working on taxes, calling in borderline sick, and driving the combative zone of rush-hour traffic, what
Almighty! Almighty! Grant us each other’s love Grant us Unity Almighty! Almighty! We are you, you are we One commUNITY Almighty! Make me an instrument Of your will Almighty! ‘Til my prayers for peace Are fulfilled Precious Yahweh! To the
On your dark face smile does not spread like a butterfly. Most reticent I had been, It was very difficult to give, and very painful to take. You wanted to be noticed, and I had a tryst with uncharted path.
It erupts and then sublimates in thirst of response from the faraway wholeness of truth. Will not be the same again this life in motion of reverse malignity. Lifting the passage from script to justify the suicidal chair of kingdom.
I have no shepherd, so I must go on wanting I lie down in dry and brown pastures of pain I am shipwrecked on high troubled seas My soul is restless, tossed, and torn I’m heading aimlessly up a miserable
In the dust storm a discarded moon sat in my lap. Then internal rhythm crashed. Amorphic I would not find the music of words translated into a kiss. Gold started weeping in my hands. The clouds will rest after committing
A sunny day on the river Ouse was chasing away the blues Sure, nothing to lose Divine muse Joy We really enjoyed our little cruise drinking coffee and some booze Sure, nothing to lose Divine muse Boy What a life!
It takes time to build trust For one who with strangers can’t easily adjust Reality is full of things unjust Better to coat it with fantasy at the crust We meet strangers through accidents Some turn to memorable incidents Thoughts
Stunning yourself, after setting ablaze, circumbulating the tied down god in center, you start a death dance for the wasted limbs. How far the self-immolation was justified for the young pond of hyacinths? And as I moved away from this
A skylight begins the apartheid in ironed out differences. At the shores skulls have reappeared. Blue flames were eating away the green carbon of the dying giants. Fake photosynthesis was canning the skimmed breeze in books and encapsulated euthanasia was
Weaving fine fibres of unripe beliefs, from a fire base, a blue bird scrambles, shading the stone valley. There was no thrift for the cadavers. The burnt relics were eating away the greens of tearful eyes. Sun was slugging again.
They say we should stand for something so I’m standing for this, A voice for the broken, to ensure we’re not dismissed, An example of the fact that you should not discriminate, We don’t dislike ourselves, it’s just the illness
Oh, the leaves of green that exist no longer As the days grow cold and a little stronger My heart and the seasons intertwined The child dies; the man grows less kind Experience is the lesson hard earned Best of
Rain, go somewhere else, I’m pained within. Wash away hurtful experiences. longed to hold onto my innocence, beauty. flawed personality, though wounded. Rain, don’t improve appearances, It’s my heart that needs mending, Start renewing what’s most important, It’s not my
Every minute from dawn until dusk, I watch a screen, waste my life away. It’s not a good life But it is my life now. The television is my headstone, Marking in the electronic earth The coffin of my bedroom.
I move mechanically on concrete roads Puzzled surrounding, locked in codes Straight faces, scanning smoke Lifeless existence, a solemn joke. Just then something knocks my brain A figure holding umbrella, when there’s no rain Peace struck shape, no layers of
I remember our first hungry kiss we behaved as though the time was less making patterns on each others’ body how can I forget the place where you first touched my heart it was then we told each other we
The study of history is one of the greatest resources for models and lessons of life. History records a runaway slave who went on to finished college in Ohio. He relocated to Mississippi and became a wealthy planter. He later
It’s not it It’s the feeling would you help me, stop, would you help me, stop, would you help me, stop, open parenthesis every album I hear makes me want more close parenthesis, stop can you feel it too or
One aqueous night I dream We are pure water in a rill; Sashaying down a frilly hill We sinuate in one stream. In a lowly bed of translucent Sand, the moon’s up crescent Runneth over; we fill her up That
I look at myself in the mirror wondering about my present state reflected rays become dimmer what could be my fate? Some strangers say they’re there for me some friends don’t say a word but then comes the sting of
…. Heal These Broken Wings Perhaps I was addicted to the lighter side, Smothered in darkness put whippings on my backside Somehow as an adult my heart became alive, It used to be asleep blind & only smiles I don’t