Hurtful poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of hurtful poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on hurtful are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Wrapping arms around myself, I sit down mutely, Numbed by a pain, Spreading through me. A gnawing pain radiates, With a sting of words, Hurled thoughtlessly, Locking me in a maze. Words that cut through, Causing a throbbing pain so
In this maddening town, I start my day, Early morning, with rough, uneven ride, The place where blindfolded people play, I try to play it right; however I fail each time, I think to myself Oh! You worthless being, You
Why utter words, Not meant in reality, But to show out, A mask of fallacy. Reflection of actions, Speak the truth, Showing the pretense, Making me a fool. In a sea of words, Inconsistency of actions, I make a puddle,
Sometimes I wonder what’s it gonna be like without the one you once loved, yeah it’s gonna be hard your gonna experience the most pain probably in your life.. and your gonna think your not gonna find someone else.. and
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
A sweet child, an innocent creature Or sheep skin hiding a terrible monster Her true nature none knew She was loved by too few Crimson drops dotted the floor Tracing her path out of the door Barefoot in the grass,
I am precious to both kingdoms, both dark and light. I carry power and potential to grow both kingdoms, so both sides are fighting for me. The one king offers: Temporary satisfaction and happiness, but neglects me when I am
Loneliness. A word meant to hurt. Something hard to handle. Alone, all alone. Loneliness. We all have faced this. Something, we can not change, even if we try our best. Loneliness. This is a part in everyone’s life. Old or
Something is hurting inside me Ripping my soul in two Its never right. Never wrong Its the way of things. Why? Why does this have to happen? I feel something. Breaking apart. Falling apart. It’s hurtful. Its not going away.
She smiled for a deep need of admiration Her world was of fantasy and delusion Her senses of mental fragmentation She welcomed someone When no one was there She never knew when she was sick Like demons tugging the stigma
you enter the lair again dun – colored shrapnel was on your lips to hear your truth I lay down the book and look beyond the acid rain falling after the explosion the yellow flames still lapping against the crater
Never in those sizzling conflicts displaying the pink eyes you were able to reach me. Was it metagenesis, forgetting your selfhood? Fragments of a beast were floating on sea. Was umblicus of death broken in the crotch of a mother?
It’s time to put the shades on, And plan for a vacation. Time to Change the wardrobe, And fight with the microbe. Time to bear the sun stroke, And soothe yourself by coke. Time to prevent the skin from tan,
Oh, mosquitoes, children of lust, you hover all over the world, to suck blood for own cause and multiply. Helpless society and frustrated victims are your brooding ground. You’ve outnumbered leeches and vampires only through a strategy of invading indoors.
(Allegro) Wedding bells. Ringing outside the parish. On top of a lonely hill Introduced by a small decent white-sand path Surrounded by neat green grass, Overlooking a deep silent river With waters reflecting the sky Just as my heart reflects
O light, where liveth thee? O light, darkness kills me. O light, will you ever come? O light, you only seek some. O light, why does dark haunt me in your presence? O light, go away, you have no essence.
Violets may wither and fall, Lilies may vanish from mortal sight, and the glamor of Roses may soon begin to fade. but eternally preserved are thy medieval looks oh Monalisa! Fair still for the desires and passions of present day
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
Here we are, amidst the roaring chaos, Amidst the turmoil of a sanguine sea Where lightning strikes furiously across Encumbering clouds of serenity. The wind has torn your bones to white splinters And left your hearts to the mercy of
Melting into this monotonous moment The faded clock twists into oblivion Sweet distortion echos, so very potent As I ponder my made decision Choices tangle into my deep dark fate As I deeply dwell on these many past mistakes I
As the beggars that never rest, when I knock and knock on closed doors, don’t ask me ‘why?’. As the waves that never tire, when I pour and pour myself on heartless rocks, don’t ask me ‘why?’. I am just
If only I had a döppelgänger, I’d peacefully live my life of languor, Entirely at my own sedated pace, For me he’d run with rats of human race. Then, entirely at my own leisure, I could entertain my simple pleasures
So many tethering smiles around, They are none compared to what I once found; Your love to me was like a Gatorade, As I considered you as my all time favorite. It was a magic that I experienced once, As
He went under pile of words to tie the thread of understanding but was stoned to death. They put the piglets in liquid nitrogen for future generations to study. The point of departure had come. Navel-gazing was the best pastime
Though I clearly see Paralleling traits, Corresponding facets Astonishingly quaint, This complex, albeit moving, Prominent connection, Holds a minute blemish Worthy of reflection. Contrast, yes there’s one, A distinction can be drawn, For you’re rarely right, While I’m never wrong!
Nestled high in the Rocky Mountain Range, a mystical valley is uniquely situated. Eloquently encased by snow draped peaks. A breading ground for Hoary Marmots. Continually feeding a high spirited pack of massive wolves, is found. These massive wolves are
Sever The strings Heart Stuffed and stitched Black as the crow A wooden figurine In a one man puppet show The audience Seated Indian style In front of the stage Their laughter And cheers Eat away at Him Like a
That fake encounter takes place everyday amidst peels of darkness and terror strikes you when you were looking for the healing torch. Clutching the old rags of history I sit on the pyramid of bones: somewhere the sanity puts up
The day is white bright winter sunshine coats on, scarves many coloured, the zenith is the warmest The night is black dark moonless cloud duvet tight, pillows many and soft, the nadir is the coldest Between the lark and the