Laziness poems bring the best collection of short and long laziness poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great laziness rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these laziness poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on laziness are here for you.
Of all vice in the world under discipline Laziness – a Curse – is like a Saccharin. Sweet as pipe, sonorous as violin Wicked as a snake, ill-mannered as Bedouin; Laziness creeps in secretly body within And remains there undisturbed
Oh procrastination How you’ll be the death of me You get worse and worse the closer I get to graduation I guess we’ll just have to wait and see If you get me put on academic probation After you arrived,
Thou, fragrance, you are the only one, in this universe, Liked and welcomed by all, with no hesitation, nor dislikes, Agreeing with everyone’s tastes and joining hand in hand, With anyone, rich or poor, regardless of their virtues and vices.
Strangers from incident, lies for distance, pitfalls of living infrequent, Rushes of sympathy pass over like fever sweat. In concurrent motion the wolves swarm on the lifeless carcass. Impending emotions fill the hole in my stomach, my chest continues to
The city appears with three folds The wintry upper sky is quite red With dim looking sun The middle level is foggy, Zero level is full of chill wind. The man you had seen in last summer on narrow street
November 9, a stroke again in her life, The broken phone lying near the bed, her eyes filled with tears, a blade in her left hand and bleeding fingers of her right hand, all spoke the same story of betrayal.
All chapters of my life condensed onto a chip so tiny you’d think my life was very short indeed for this last chapter to begin. So it is, today’s life, so fast I could not believe the penultimate chapter had
When there were no more Messiahs left to kill that day, the men of the town went home for another night of hoping, wailing, waiting and praying. The Night bore them a child. And Morning came knocking on their doors
In the silence of the blue ocean tides, As the water sweeps on the sea rides I feel you are with me; holding my hands, Walking slowly along the cold wet sands, Knowing that one fine dawn we shall meet.
Some hurts are best left alone some questions best left unanswered some answers best left unsaid it pricks like a million needles it bites like a million fangs my body seems inadequate my heart bleeds thick blood my eyes weep
I didn’t know the meaning of life, For many many years. The sun rose and the routine began, Waking you, getting you ready, plaiting and ribboning, Packing tiffins, and putting you in a waiting bus. The hours that followed were
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
Amidst of joyous merriment sitting lonesome in solitude Own shadow as company at a tether’s end fortitude With none of any inclination for any indulgence to ignite Reminiscing all times of yore with so much there to excite Am sure
Nothing is as beautiful, As the rays of the Sun on a Wintry morning… Nothing uplifts the mood, than reading humorous words enchantingly put in an Article… Nothing uplifts you the way your best friends trying to cheer you up
The graceful dance of butterfly wings, The budding romance attending Spring — The morning melody of birds who sing, The opportunities each new day brings — The serene swaying of porch swings, The relaxing splashing of gentle rain — Wedding
Watching from pin hole lamps of baked clay. Every thorn was in my flesh. I was losing my voice in crowd of maniacs. Dragonflies climbing on worn leather. Through cracked sunroof – skull splinters into million heirlooms. Fever climbs the
A little childhood collecting Waste papers on a garbage dump Asked me, “Am I borne to do this job?” I had no answer A childhood begging on roadside Asked me, “Is my childhood borne for begging?” I had no answer
Once did muddy little feet tread their sweet mischief through her doorway Giggles ran naked through the den, marked by a trail of impish footprints The cat nervously hid beneath the sofa, The dog excitedly barked in delight, freckled innocence
The best kind of face is a familiar face But not entirely; something that screams safe But isn’t; someone driving four wheels but maybe not all four someone with routines; No. He should call me at the Devil’s hour Whisk
The bygone time is a handwritten book Every step left behind has its story Sorry there’s no time for us to read in detail for we need to continue the journey in a hurry Sorrow often overwhelms me when nights
I heard the shepherdess sing The song of dawn upon the hill Merry go the twinkling stars In shelter of their dream The sunbeams come Dancing upon the lake When the yellow traveler Makes his sway Flowers open up their
Oft have I heard the preachers say “Time and Tide waits for none” This is false, quite untrue; ‘Coz time and tide do wait for some. The days of day-dreaming and fairytales have passed away, Responsibilities and tensions have made
Memories of a friend that was in the past, Memories of a friend that will always last, Memories of the times that will never be Forgotten. “Oh how those days were but They just didn’t last.” Roll back the time
I am serenity … standing here flowing… Seeking justice… Seeking peace… Pronounced with calm breaths… fearing not the chaos of the hatred armor and fists you bear… My face of clarity speaking with unspoken words… Yet loudly, stance proudly… with
I stand naked At the window A rough wind Disarranges my hair Harsh sun rays Beat my bosom Into a merciless submission And I cringe at the touch Of your manipulative fingers My conscience Is like bad breath Reeking of
Your words have become harsher these days Unrealistic, cruel and unnatural Still I’m surprised at their inability to shock me Or to affect me any further Not that I have become immune to it But, I think, rationalism is the