Individuality poems bring the best collection of short and long individuality poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great individuality rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these individuality poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on individuality are here for you.
Oh woman! Oh mother Abused beaten thrashed facing all torture You are not less than mother nature She gets disfigured scarred by her own Yet once in a while out comes her fury You behind that brave smiling mask From
Fight me,here I stand, In your costly possessed land, Which you incurred by fate, But I incurred by hard faith. You were gifted the golden throne, But I was gifted your half eaten bone, Still I stand in your possessed
‘GANDHISM’ – an eternal truth of divinity, Found in all human individuality ! Struggle is to ‘Experiment’ & find in yourselves, It is not hiding anywhere else ! Empathy for the last one, Is the ‘talisman’ for the ‘Sarva-jan’ !
I wonder how many poets died with voices unheard How many minds were robbed from the herd The amount of people with beautiful science in their mind Forced to neglect, to go through everyday’s struggle and grind Why must a
The girl is an ultra-modern scholar, Belongs with an upper-middle class family. Looking very nice, smart, gets angry suddenly. She reads M.A in English at Presidency University. She is assimilating the ideas of Shakespeare, Shelley, Keats, Neruda, Byron… Fluently speaks
We, You and I, Are individuals. As individuals, Regardless of how steadfastly We assert individuality, We’ll either blend in Or be drowned in a sea of Excessively passionate individuals; Each uniquely manufactured to personify Their respective soul. We, You and
Modern calculations Life complications Are not real Illusions, no facts There is no deal Nature wisely reacts. Created equal Within a cycle Inferior, no one is Superiority is a fake mental buzz Sharing, freedom and respect Of individuality is my
Delhi the mighty city, I love to hate, has withstood time and is steeped in history. With its harsh climate and its harsh reality it doesn’t give excuses, doesn’t sugar coat its being. With pride it says i have it
Let those tears flow! Let them meet the pain! Let them be again, A reflection of your soul. At times, listen to your heart, At times, listen to your tears, For they are the closest to you, Than anyone else
There’s an empty hole Left behind Heartache and sorrow are entwined In every action, thought and feeling I have A big part is missing since you have passed Sadness tainting memories with lost hope Externally showing to all I can
A life, lives, many lives – millions struggle. Liars to the left and right of them, in front of them and in back of them, beneath and on top. Everyone dismayed; like those before them none can make a reply.
Goblins have lived in our trees for years They have green eyes, and great big ears They come out on a summer night And swing from the branches in the pale moonlight They walk in the trees, and talk goblin
Once, not so long ago, There were many many beautiful flowers, And the exotic winged butterflies, Fluttered around them , Almost in a state of trance. On one such occasion, A brightly winged butterfly, Saw a wilting flower, And chose
Hands trembling as I write this poem On cold chilly winter morning Dead silence ring in my ear Dim light by the fireplace, Knotted together in this tiny house That we call our own Where love is shown, and hate
The sensation of thick honey Gliding down your throat, Enveloping your tongue in A heavy, smooth numbness that warms your buds, Dissolving into sweet ecstasy. The smell of rain Soaking into parched soil, Tingling your nostrils, Tickling your senses, Encompassing
My heart is starving, My lips are famished, My arms are cold, My strength is half of it. My mind races, My restless eyes close, My reasons to reason, Grow stale and fold. When you go I always pine, The
The beams were ready to collide on the bars of hate. The blast was coming with adjectives. It was immortality of a street which was going to survive. New herons will come to wade in troubled waters. Pure white. But
The deceased has 2 cusps of lid Not quite drawn down over the eyes – I wonder if they are peering askant Into the afterlife! Pale rouge belies The flaccid cheeks; pertinaciously hid The 90+ years he once was ambulant
Trees all around me. Trees moving with wind. Wind is making the trees bend. Trees bending, but not breaking with the wind. Trees are like my life. Moving with the wind. I’m bending with the wind, But I’m not breaking,
Incandescent lights stream across the stark blackened night breathing in the intoxicating smoke swirling around you; Deep cynical voices cackling manically rumbling through the dank dark corridors, phosphorescent lace velvet floating in the calm cool air; Tantalizing deep dank thoughts
Well and This Feeling Inside can’t be denied Although you’re gone my love for you goes on All my friends say find another but how can I Give my love to another when there just might be A snowball’s chance
Before some three or four-odd days Began the nature show some craze. The people, truly afraid, to say, Nowhere did find a place to stay. The initial portension was a fire, That left a pile of ashes and mire Of
White, you diluted my red into skin that doesn’t fit squirms. Trampoline, reflected projectile in your eye. I, from you Stop background-ing walk in, devour me I will fight you survive emerge to co-exist.
I’ve felt much worse, but when I realised how long I’ve been staring at this blank white page without having my fingers moving, tapping on alphabets like it does before when I want it to, I saw a man who
Splendor of the moon, Rising from the horizon, Makes me surrender, To its magnificence. The enchanted moonbeams, Entice the waves, Kissing the seashore, Form ripples in water. Tides of love swell the waves, The moonlight spreading across, Illusions of a
It came without warning, no early whisper of fate Your body released you, there must be some mistake In the fury of loss, the mind and the heart are enemies Silent screams steer the wreckage on the forbidden quest for