Incarcerate poems bring the best collection of short and long incarcerate poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great incarcerate rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these incarcerate poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on incarcerate are here for you.
The way rapists minds have taken shape- A girl is to blame for her own rape, To these animals so lecherous What are we girls-strictly diurnal creatures? Rapists say,“Girls can’t step out at night, A girl attacked should quietly allow
The poet takes the fall The ballads turn to the darkest alibis The bottles’ staring at me Emptied faster than they could sing The sorrows’ in the sky Clouded thoughts reigning from within The memory of your touch Buried in
The unbearable Sad and painful Trembling heart Brimming despair Wistful moments Brought us closer To the dreaded Inevitable point Of steeled separation Reluctantly To pay our debts We had to part Ever since then The wait Oh love And joy
You are so beautiful I can’t explain My love is ready to bear all pain Snowy-white in monsoon rain Glowing like light in my brain Your beauty at a glance Gives me a chance to romance When my heart gets
They manipulated the words to cross the corridors of essence. Crib was empty, child was stolen. At blood stained altar there was no clue to mystical death. The contents now matter. Time displays tools of murder, snaps the sheet from
Built to perfection, designed for comfort Polished warm brown, with cushions floral.. Often, admired a while, by those on road I waited a keen eye, to take me home… And then came in, a dainty inquiring lady Ah, but look
The money and the power, like hand in glove, ruling the world from ivory towers, above. Like pawns on a chessboard we follow commands, coolly manipulated by cold corporate minds. They reap the harvest that they bought with our souls,
The fire that they fueled for years not Only created a monster but a Nightmare so dark that even Freddy Krueger Shed tears of fear, you see the creature Was not fierce because of his proclaimed image But merely from
It’s good to leave your comfort zone Once or more in a while And travel to unknown lands To have a feel of life out there. It’s awesome visiting new places Meeting people of varied cultures Hear queer, unfamiliar languages
Identification of the Cutest Creation Ever! ‘He’ or ‘It’- What should I call? A God’s creation that came into existence, Thirteen years ago. A creation of flesh and bone, Purely naïve and totally ignorant About the cruelties and cleverness Of
Doubt surrounding The air regret fuelling The hurt While sadness radiates Around the heart My soul fights to Remain untainted but Yet I still feel Chained from the past only Because at the Dawn of Wake My Suffering Eradicates
The hills around me stand silent, Veiled in the darkness Of a sombre, bitter-chill winter night, As though mourning for a beloved long gone The cold winds blow from across the sea Over the peaks, thru’ the valleys and the
The feel of leaf dust, Shreds rustling around, The sight of falling leaves, unencumbered my senses. Standing bare at some places, Orange and yellow in some corners; Trees, like traveling artists, Put on colorful plays, Changing attire at every stage.
A dream and me gazing at will merrily A hammock and me, lying and reading leisurely A Holsunlit day and me, basking in its glory A riverside and me fishing secrets deeply A sand dune and me reflecting shadows quietly
The moon grasped my heart tonight! Like the glow of a burning lamp It gleams in a mantle of delight Beneath the clouds of misty damp Like a wandering eye that glances To every nook and corner streets A silent
I am an ocean of problems, With raging gulfs of anxiety, Thunderstorms of fears, Coral reefs of loneliness In me all the time, And in this turmoil I saw you as a shore, Calm and composed, A harbor for my
I awake from my slumber as beauty calls my name. My eyes reach for the wooden roof That rest above the clouds. They were adjusting From my dreams which occupied my mind My ears are terrified From the silence made
The pain in my brain and eyes, Is nothing compared to the torture of hearing your incessant cries. Nor me having to invent lies to hear your swooning sighs. How depraved I must be to repent this on a keyboard Rather than your holy
Compliments are strangely empty The words mean nothing When the scars forever remain One glance at me, he bluntly uttered, I hope to own more beautiful than you My first love You devalued my existence To this day I look
An unknown and unclear mask she wears Though she might fool everyone but not herself A hidden secret she cannot tell Then she said, “I’m just a little unwell”. Stuck between reality and fantasy So a scratch on the head
I am lost in the fruitless existence of my soul, sleep, eat, pray, cry and repeat. Longing for the one to break me free from the chains of social acceptance and the prison blessed man has created for himself. Man
From Time’s first stirring of momentary dread Hope is crushed by tyranny where what might be lies broken Under a brightly garnered garland a siren of sweet promises. As if the stains of blood and tears were sweet red wine
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.
Time ticks away, Questions pour in Answers flow as crashing waves Against solid rocks The mute sky looks indifferent Is the era of clues over? Smilingly I pretend ease Watching, listening, chatting animatedly One eye on the clock Rhyming with
You are source of motivation in life for continuity, Taking breath is, only, doable with your deep proximity. You are my dreamer in sprouting confidence, and love to live, I search, always, a little space in your heart to thrive.
There was a matter to write about, A minute ago, mass of words were Filling up my mind I should pen this, that and other My head was overflowing with Powerful words and emotions To an extent, that I lost
Our freedom began with the historic words At the midnight when the world sleeps India will awake we did wake to freedom It’s now the sixty ninth year of freedom But what sort of freedom is this A handful of those
One may experience it or not but Prayers add to my psychological strength And contribute to my efforts to succeed By creating a better and positive environment. Many believe prayers as wastage of energy and time but what I shared