Rememberance poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of rememberance poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on rememberance are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
She watches him, every move sucks in his atmosphere, she fakes petty unconcern listless, restless encircling the prey spinning her web.. He sees all, walks away still faking it, she retreats smudging the smug hibernating until the next one lands.
Frightening in your stealth, you approach like the darkest cloud. They cannot see you, but those close know you are with me. Your visits provoke their wariness, afraid they may tip the scales. Some are aware of your deceptive nature;
Plain steps Grey concrete smooth polished to look Like marble But they are not; nothing in this courtroom is real I came here a Free Man Under licence and bonded high, but free all the same I chose to face
Tired feet, aching head, teary eyes, weary heart’ I don’t need another heartbreak, I can’t take another heartache but we need one another. There are things you remember and there are things you can not forget like when a girl
I love.. The early sounds of dawn. The twitter of birds and the sound of Silence too – as calm and blissful peace they bring. I love.. Fresh jasmine flowers A walk on wet green grass The crimson in the sky with birds
Did you see him half-nude before a mirror, bristles on a bear’s chest, his freckled hands stretching towards your chin, unshaved, colorless, talkative like pimples on your finger-tips, the purple of old blood, the gleam of grey teeth. Drink the
You were broken down and I was bitter trying to find the answers but I still remained a sinner your pain was my game my mistakes were the chains sticking to your heart tighter than the veins I scream I
Walking in the bush, late in the afternoon: Spring winding trails Among Plantae et Animalia. An independent world —Sort of realm of alien species Welcomes your senses with a storm of small flies (genus Drosophila) Which playfully floods the air,
Physically abused, Mentally accused, Emotionally scared For the ones she held dear. Her burning flesh And the positive tests Her leaking face Would always make my heart race The looks of disgrace would show on their face Without a clue,
Winging my way through the air; high in the Cascade Mountain Range. With a serene wilderness lake just below me. Reflecting an exquisite brilliant sunrise of various shades of yellows, oranges, and golden hues. Reflected upon the glassy placid surface.
She was too smart to be herself Too feeble to live for her own She kept her dreams locked in her closet They kept sulking and dying Dejected, in their own cocoon. In every ruin, she found her castle Each
She sits there looking so cold and alone But somewhere under there, There beats a heart Beneath all the black and chrome The smooth lines that glimmer Soft but sharp in the night Are begging you to play the game
You were half-crazy saving little buds brutalized by storm in a yawning night. The ugly silver of a fringe group becomes intentionally a hate cult, developing an epicenter for stripping to devastate a religion. The ghosts are walking in the
Being not poetical, how pitiful it is, Sometimes I sit somewhere and watch the Slew of mass flowing over dusty street And a strange thought dawns in my mind How poetical these rushing souls actually are? Perhaps I know these
Nobody likes me, everybody does too I’m not divine, neither are you. Why do you hate to hear about a daughter? And cannot make your brain broader! You have used me as a tool; Never allowed me to attend school.
Bring me home and I’ll go right to bed for the little bird heard everything that was said; return to yourself and judge not of what you have read. The dormouse agreed and returned to his shed with which the
Who Are they? Wonders, or walking living machines? They sleep in a cradle, fed on their mothering arms Growing up desensitised with fictitious joy There they open their arms and glide. Their eyes gaze on the synthetic flashy lights Where
Astounding pride some exude, In reflection of exterior Little do beings ever realize That Master is all superior. The creator scrupulously must have Decanted, and created the imperial nature. Altruistically and artistically HE has scattered, A little of self in
Why do we perceive life the way we do? As if a journey loaded with obstacles, As if a mystery impossible to construe, As if souls stranded with brutal girdles! Failing to realize it’s not as complex as it seems,
The decline of the Seventh of May My world was forever changed Oh I will always remember that day The world revolved slowly on an axis until you came Now father time will not delay despite my pleas Please remain,
Your eyes Are bluer than the skies Of summer. They shine more brightly Than heavenly stars that sparkle nightly. No finer line Could ever define A shape more perfect in design. One look and I’m enraptured – Captured! They have
Weary soul needs to survive Broken heart must stay alive Where word is not sufficient Music is efficient Flows from the ear to the heart Strengthens soul set apart Uplift depressed spirit And make sadness exit Music acts like magic
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
Thump-thump-thump A foggy haze. Moving bodies It feels warm in here. Or is it just me? Darkness. Then light. Pulsating. Excuse me. My bad. Thump-thump-thump Who is that? Squint. Lean against the rail. Look cool. You want another drink? I
The winged commuters return to their warm cosy nest for their lovely night rest it is turning cool after the day long scorching burn. the rim of the endless sea turns red the sinking sun casts long yellow shadows the
Her mere name piercing through my Ear Sets my heart beat to the rhythmic romantic tunes Needless to say my life has completely taken a U turn for Good ever since my intrusion into the mystique and fantasy filled romantic
Isolation from time and present existence, The air dabs a little splash of peace, Sometimes as a massage, sometimes as a scratch, Both share a bit of pain, But as a virgin to pleasure it feels all the same, It’s