Realistic poems bring the best collection of short and long realistic poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great realistic rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these realistic poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on realistic are here for you.
There once was a boy from this place, Where nature gleams with glorious grace. Though all seemed right And the sun always bright, He dreamed of someday travelling through space. In school, The only thing he ever did do was
Call me time and again an incurable romantic. accuse me offensively of revering unrealism. laugh at me heartlessly for I over-idealize you. or just leave me forlorn, if I’m gallingly tractable. but I’ve a warm, not weak, heart. I sincerely
Fiendish and gruesome phantasmagoric denizens Dwell deep inside subterranean vault perform an evil dance Haunt psychic landscape with imaginary (yet realistic) Gargoyle visitations that cast a macabre trance Nocturnal unconscious invaders cavort and gallivant Disturb quiescent sleep with devilish and
Minor casualties dredging towards delicate situations It is a fool’s choice to be seeking binding sensations Regardless to say, this is a mythomane and moments of despondancy loom over in shame Untouched withdrawals nesting in places of repression and segregation
‘The Cry of our Children’ is simply a marvelous collection of poems, full of emotions and feelings in one book by poet Ruth Andrews. Though the writer has dedicated her book to motherhood and child- mother relation, this book has
The harmonious companionship is of no easy access Especially after many betrayals I’ve experienced as a witness From the uneasy feeling my tough disguises derive By whom the romantic elements are stolen from my life? Nobody can discard all world
I am waiting for a miracle. A miracle of meteorological proportions. A miracle whose atmospheric propositions would be large enough to render it, and anything appertaining to it, be it high up in the sky that ends it, or down
They walk amongst the bone and the flesh and the screams unheard, those eyes that watch their home burnt, What is this chaos and what is this pain? Where is this land where death and agony prevails? Are we born
even vultures will not devour the proffered war time victims, ruined was the impression of untitled sacrifice, a wild anemone slips into the river of blood, I tend to forget the faces of embers – arson by apostles of peace,
Look in the mirror. What do you see? Depends on the choices you’ve made. Depends on your programming. Depends on where you were born. Depends on what you were born. Look in the mirror. What part will you play? A
Love is all that she has And giving it is her passion. So beautiful, adorable and serene Are her thoughts And just so are her actions. With courage she walks And with strength she fights, Not to hurt, not for
This is a poem of male roads. It starts with an ordinary road made up of daily traffic plus the occasional traveler impulsively joining the regulars. Unlike them he cannot calculate whether or not it is worth such risk. The
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
That was the dreadful night when my world went upside down, Tough decisions were made but still I count, The smiles the sorry the vows that were so profound, It just hit me hard now when ever they come around.
Greying streets whisper cold dust, a different time Their utterance echoes,carves on my glass mind. They hush a hymn so soft, it dangles like innocence, from an old child. I, an antique vase made to their design. Greying streets whisper,
Myriad of grasshoppers were sitting on the leapless bush celebrating the earth. I was never happy with the anniversary of thirst eating the memories of green. His hand rummages to collect the shrunk berries from my chest. Today the sun
Dwelling above Lake Louise is a young Alpha mountain goat who got run out of his pack for trying to take control away from the senior Alpha mountain goat. Young Alpha mountain goat is a feisty and shaggy beast. Fearless!
I’ll gladly share Dreamland with you always, Not to reserve one bit for others’ use, But make its days smolder and nights ablaze, And keep each of us as love’s recluse; We’ll shut the storm from blowing through each spring,
I was made in a community Where most seeked unity But hate flowed fluently Filled with Ghosts and dried blood stains! I was raised by the village, love wasn’t given mutually But financial balances created separation Anger left hearts vacant
Some forgotten memories Visited me yesterday Some left me afterwards while some were meant to stay I wanted to keep some moments close to my heart as they alone could give me strength to walk in the dark some memories
If you’ve ever seen an ant go whizzing by faster than his friends and with goggles on his eye’s, then without a doubt, skidding through the plants, you’ve met my friend Albert, The skate-boarding ant. From the day he was
Metallic spacecrafts cloud the sky Griffins, Dragons and Fairies spread their wings and fly Mermaids come on the back of Dolphins singing their sacred song of Precedent Well I wouldn’t of believed it either if I hadn’t of seen it
Sometimes these feelings inside me, tickle so hard at the core in my body, physically. But where ? I don’t exactly know. Somewhere beneath my head ? or perhaps knocking under the chest ! but it does, and frequently. The
I wrote about him, They instantly recognized him. I wrote about her, They immediately traced her. I talked about them They felt relieved, This time it was a plural. If a face is needed for each pronoun, Let it be!
blemish of the needle in eye spreads: do you still see the moon in the hills, outstripping the aura of midnight? resilient, waiting for a renaissance, for a finger on the lips in dark, to read the symptoms, feeling floral