Resentment poems bring the best collection of short and long resentment poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great resentment rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these resentment poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on resentment are here for you.
Today, streets shamelessly bathe, after they were piled by east winds, which were imported from West, North and South, since that news bulletin to which nobody gives mind. At the hall there is a red coat, a pink boot filled
To shed a layer of selfishness, watching it fall to the ground beneath me in flakes that wail as I brush them aside and step away from myself. To bathe in sweetness, indulging through every pore with chocolate and chemicals
As the becoming abhorrence, Becomes, My shattered self emerges Antipathetic,so Averse and gripe. I find the resentment, Take control. My cosmos engulfed, By tides of detestation. My love, my life, I see turning to hate. Objections and repulsions, Are all
The wind writes a name on the clouds and sun wipes out the letters. This game continues daily. coming into life after every death. Exhausted I want to believe and make up my mind to go for a new birth.
When speed overtakes you, incision on black marble crashes. Before the moonrise your bygone sister falls in your arms crying. Baby death had jumped from the second floor to meet the earthquake of icy forgetfulness in wild fire. A landslide
I feel, A strange hunger A hunger for freedom… Though I have, Yet I desire… A deep unfulfilling kind of starvation… Can never get too much of freedom, The thought lingers, To play on my mind… Freedom… Intangible yet priceless,
(1) It is insane that while your heart jumps at evening on the strings of a harp, while your beloved lady’s hair flies with every breeze of jazz, while you wash up at morning under showers of gardens sounds, but
Every morning, We pretend to meet, To have a sip From our misty cups of tea. Our eyes might have Acknowledged each others’ presence, But they never meet, While they raise from the newspapers, That are evenly spread On the
She’s my perfect girl. Every day at college she sits with me, Enjoys my company and accepts my love As I do hers… She’s my perfect girl, She knows I play too many games, And that I’m obsessed with cartoons,
She canters freedom like wind Gallops wilderness like fire And into metallic dreams She blazes banter with reverence- Only to chute through life’s greenbrier- letting seasons mark her deviance! As she gaits, bittersweet love is dinned with a shako of
I don’t know how it would be Down there deep inside a womb. Probably dark, probably warm, Probably wet There amidst all the hustle and bustle A ball, consisting of water and flesh Starts to grow Unknown, Unnoticed, Unaware Swimming
After running for the flesh, why did you make a home for the death? Was it a reverence for buying the peace? Or fear of uncertainty and suspense in the bosom of pain? The panther was only thirsty, there was
The restless weather curses me, Why not fly back to your nest thee; There where you always belonged, Where thy heart longed. The Lady waiting on the streets in those eager evenings, Those roads are lost in the new beginnings.
At times when the heart darts out before the words, And love spills over before dames all svelte and amused, By swooning to songs that blared ever so loud on the ears That even she could hear, Standing next to
After four female checks, came a sparkling young man The beginning of Sunday, Sep 09 saw the principal touch of a brilliant kid Shouting, rolling and crying the black man With grins and appreciation mother adores for the kid Daddy
Europe my realm and my prized possession, I instill in thee our novel ideals, for your feudal laws our conquest repeals. Our boisterous wind of emancipation liberates Spain from draconian inquisition. Of the proud Brit’s stupendous earning power, an Egyptian
The autumn breeze blows through the trees whispering secrets known to few from all of his travels in summer under skies of azure blue He tells of flowers smiling when watered by the rain and of butterflies kissing them again
After the weep there was blankness, then he started playing with fire for existence, of a rain which refused to shower. It was a fierce night of a hidden drought. A lethal dose of amnesia dissipates the calmness of a
With my sincerest apologies to James Shirley The glories of our spoons and plates Are filling, quite substantial things; There is so much amour of the palate; We lay our hands on all manner of things: Bread toasted brown Flora
Mountains from thirty-five thousand feet: Bike-wreck rucked skin below powdered sugar. No tread and no track in that authentic wilderness No pioneer souls in either ridgeline or crease And no you to arrive home to, the lush riffle Of short
Softly planted… not by hands but by our hearts Beyond the reach… of eroding winds, of the days caustic sting A place made… by a weathered touch by inner kisses We are the untouchables… prey only to our own fears