Negligence poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of negligence poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on negligence are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Life has become a race where everyone are trying to keep up their pace, where there is no time to go into the waters,where the paper boats row Running the race busily for our lives like the bees in the
Shards, Your shards you have to pick up, Shattered all over the flo’r, Scattered like someone knocked over a house of cards, How can you look at yourself? Blame the shards for cutting your hands, Cuss them out using every
Very often we seek love, warmth, caress, inspiration and motivation to move on. Very often we ask for guidance if not from God then from men to confirm our decisions. Very often we struggle to live through heartaches of solace
“Holy knot” Marriage is like a book of suspense, Each day contains romance and turbulence. You are excited what is next, You try your level best to prove the best. Sometimes you want to read its climax, But you have
The aesthetic beauty of twilight , Reminds of a lost soul, In the fleeting moment of bygone years, That vanished to oblivion, Surfacing in the sea of thoughts, To bring back the silent hopes, Wishfully strewn in path of life.
The moon is declining on its late night journey The lady you adored all through out the years Is returning to daily fold with respectable form, The October sky is cloudy and moist like your vision, You have scant sleep
Bones knit, and stretched, and grew, and tendons tightened to the point of breaking, but, for all the pain, I never seemed to grow, much. My father whet his hands with olive oil, from an old bottle, corked with cotton
The thought that faith requires That one should wait his call When of Heaven aspires Intimidates my soul The fear that stalks my heart Exacts toll on my mirth As doubt would not depart It undermines my worth My confidence
Shed the mood Blue Open your heart, feel the world which seems so new Things may not change, Many angels or demons will stay down the memory lane, Perspective and change in attitude is the clue, Shed the mood Blue.
love starts from something but people think it’s nothing love has a beautiful charm but there is no love without harm love is very pleasant every day is like an event love changes the weather in love people spread their
Sitting silently in this crowd Hearing all the voices so loud Understanding what my heartbeat tells Concentrating something else Heat of pain in these eyes disbelief in my hidden cries Feeling numb nothing to act Everything seems like a fact
Do I have a choice before knifing the page for a meaning, when I was drowned in a nostalgia? Cinchona bark. This was my keyword for living bitterly under a tryant inciting the riots of colors. The digital death comes
The dusk seemed darker than ever, A few stars twinkling here and there. The Pole Star, fixed essentially, giving assurance…. Things are not always as they seem to be. Tossing and turning is the law of existence, None remains untouched,
Poetry is the heat, a part of my flame, it keeps me cool, envelopes in a frame. Am I sentimental, idle and worthless guy? Feeling keeps me human, passions let me fly. A force compels me to etch on papers
Her heart was all putty beating against his Red Blood Love. The coming and going of his visits were only at night His heart really did love her but just could not show it. His emotions had been fractured and
There exists a special bond between you and me. We are one in body, mind and spirit. Our hearts are intertwined and where one begins, the other ends. We have weathered the storms of life together and the bond has
When one does not reply the other’s voice must amplify what is about them that they would not give up on them when they look at each other they just go from one world to another will be always contented
There is a thread so slender, connecting mother and child together, For eternity it will hold them fast,forever and ever it will last As the days and months and years go by, some things will make you happy, others will
My mind is a place, and often I’m told Those who would venture are far more than bold Vast twisting caverns of darkness and light Thoughts in a jumble with no wrong or right Fear and disorder, perfection and truth
I must be dreaming when you called my name, In sweet refrain to which nothing compares, It sounded like a call from Hall of Fame, Nay, none that I know of, in boastful airs; What joy, the lilting of one’s
She started to shake inside. Felt sick with anger and distrust. Now that the culprit that broke her heart was back in town. The past memories where clouding his judgement. Neither do I care. As a far I am concerned
I tried mending broken glass and then asked myself why me.. I tried making grass greener on my barren fence and then asked myself why me.. I tried sowing the same plant when it was already dead and then asked
In the art of letter writing, is a hand that writes it, pouring out the heart, through a sea of beautiful feelings, surrendering the soul. It is like an intricately woven lace of intense emotions, across the flowery page, that
Time goes by. As slowly as a grain of sand. Excruciatingly so, as I lie Awaiting you to understand. The colours filling the horizon, Are not just pretty sights. To some they are, The path of dream lights. To some
She was standing there, all arms around her, wet face, silky hair, everything pure. Never letting go. Birds in the open blue flying in all different directions, screeching and screaming, whistling and flapping, white noise. Beating hearts with tiny limb
Abandon my fleeing heart, Whistling on roads a part, Stop me if I’m wrong, Carve me up with sharp songs, Restraint can lie, And subsequently so can I. Perception in loss, Victories in some too, Loving you is gigantic, But
Down memory lane I traveled, at the first corner of endless street I met almond eyes dimpled cheeks silk soft tresses My First Poem –She!! further down at the second corner nostalgic charm lyrical beauty simple smile My Second Poem
In the empty house of snow, though, interred a blade of grass when I was searching one midnight flame in frozen night, on parting lips of darkness. The art of delusion churns the sea for an untitled arsenic, of a
On a wrinkled trajectory the blood averts to abstract remission, I am out of place in time and history. Try to nudge the jumping ants with their cyberweapons ready to strike the antique nectaries of judgements. The predators were coming.