Replica poems bring the best collection of short and long replica poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great replica rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these replica poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on replica are here for you.
What human values have we today, Than just seeking a helluva lot of Happiness for the notifications When the virtual defeats reality Am I too in same cage? To forget my Man and Sons and Daughters And care about gadgets
One beautiful Sunday afternoon, down by the valley where the waters cascading down the rocks upon the stony bed I sat, lost in reverie on my life continuous struggles when His shadows appeared, silhouetted against the fading sun upon the
There‘s no power strong enough to halt this motion Thus, the universe, hinged upon a transient axis in her cosmos plane, spin and revolves in an infinite motion But not moving forward, thus days and years were born All substances
She came to visit me from America, Everybody shouted, she is my replica. She is very pretty, white and pink, She wore her jacket, made of mink. My little lady always looked very busy, Serving tea with her beautiful tea-cosy.
A song will be sung as war descends Calling on God’s invisible hand Enemies hordes crushed underfoot With no knowledge of why they came. Ships harboured in the bay Like sleeping sea serpents did they lay While out in the
The dead moon’s framed portrait Hung from the prussian blue sky, Staring downwards into the Lighted lonely city – With a well practiced air Of indifference. The pond with green waters And a cemented bank, Where local kids wash their
Once I lived in Swaziland, Away from my country my beloved homeland. A beautiful country of Southern Africa, Manzini and Mababane are its heavenly replica. We lived in coats valley near the grove of guava trees, My maid used to
Comprehensive to common minds yet impressive. Creative writing demands appreciating. His composition is his recognition. Unknown to this world his designation. Nor noted he’s deserted. Exiled deep in oceans of literature, Get him a defibrillator. Too less like him left,
The wind whirled, turning at a point, The bamboo leaves sounded cracking after being bent- With the “U-turn” of winding blow- There is no way to know- When the wind will change its phase- Turning to east or west? Only
What are we doing? Where are we going from here? What are we? My stormy weathered friend I hear you scream. I see your dreams untold. I love you. My stormy weather friend. When you’re wounded who will heal you?
How it is that – at shrine while saying prayers sex was on your mind? You hated the betrayal and emptiness of life. but still tuned to sweet indulgence. And then a sudden flash back slaps in your face, and
Since decades long ago, one wish unreached, Still haunts my soul with all tenacity; I know the Devil has my fences breached, And might have crept right through my sanity; The call of pride keeps dinning in my ears, Like
Commandment Six, thou shalt not kill, Forbade taking a life, But still it is in God’s good name The man brings down his knife. Said Jesus, Love thy neighbour as Yourself, but even still, Muslims, Jews, and blacks, and gays,
This demon has seduced your inner being open the windows of your soul look before the darkness consumes your very existence draining every source of energy turning the mirror on yourself becoming lost in this unbearable reality be quick! before
I have a box and that’s for a fact- from which an act is being lead. With scripts of wild puns that overlap, it banters back while remaining intact! Equipped with taunting realizations that retort- with hiss as they push
Freedom is a dream A subtle silvery dream Hanging around the hills and vales of our desires Delicate threads Interwoven in intricate patterns A trap for the naive mind. Freedom is a constant struggle The writhing battle between The butterfly
On a glowing morning day, By a meadowy, misty bay. Walked to the sea shore, Stumbling along those on my way. There roamed many incognito, Yet bearing a semblance familiar. A déjà –vu of coming across, A pair of knowing
When you have nothing left. It is imminent that you create your own peace of mind with every direction. Take some time out and evaluate. Reevaluate. Make peace with the things which we control, and the things we cannot. In
I spent a lifetime Trying to be different How can I complain then, That I don’t fit in? Who is this? Why has he trapped me? Illuminated confines of ability. Decorative boundaries of relation. Soft prison cells, comfortably. If it
Black rain filtered down the cobble stone, catching the moon, almost making a white streak of what looked like paint, as it found the large grated drains As morning came, transformations of colours form, as oil slick from the Lorries,
Rhetoric had a theme like crab-grass to destroy the lawn. Fly ash had submerged the legacy of sane lips. The river drifts between the broken walls of binge soaring. Tension was descending in the lanterns who were flickering hopelessly. Was
Abstraction has become a constant routine. Contemplating not knowing what to do or who to become, had became a life’s affair. Coming up with disparate possibilities on what to do in life, I came up with: Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zippo.
Long years and a long gap of having not met our friend, Speculation and excitement ran high in us, and, when we met…. Warmth of Friendship and Love spreads around us! Time almost as if has stopped, When we laughed
The mood was vile and monstrous, Gloom hung in the air, Walking on fragile cracks of emotion, Dare I speak in converse. Ridiculous to feel fearfulness, Of someone who holds envy within, Can we guide this competitor, To overcome the
The table is set and the turkey’s fine, ‘taters, sprouts and a glass of cheap wine. Crackers, party hats, bad jokes and toys, plenty of fun for good girls and boys. Pass me the stuffing, cranberry sauce, Yorkshire pudding and
You bring fear in the eyes, You dont differentiate between truth and lies, Neither you look out for good and bad, You just make everyone sad. You come like a thunder in the sky, When there are no birds which
The stadium goes dark and a hush falls- you can hear a pin drop; The sounds of pins dropping, Maybe it’s the patter of raindrops Or is it running feet- Oh, the anticipation! It’s a drumroll for the artist, As
Putting the fire in mouth as a last rite he readied himself for the onslaught of questions, who will attack like leeches, the blood sucking parasites. It was a bizarre coalition of love between kissing cousins. The knifing will continue
What is it that speaks, before lips can say, Caress and feel, before the hands can touch, Stabs without daggers, without swords can slay, And betrays a love, that has grown so much? It bares the soul, and manifests sorrow,
If you’re going through one of those days, when you feel like there’s no hope, raise your heart up to Jesus. You are BEAUTIFUL even though you may not think so. You are precious in God’s eyes. And when Satan
It was one of those bad days where nothing went right In frustration I banged my forehead against wall Frustration turned into anger and my forehead resembled a mountain I put Ice over the bloated forehead to melt it down