Resignation poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of resignation poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on resignation are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Positivity, happiness, love, these Words you threw at me, expecting Me to grab on to them and connect. Expecting my instincts to take over, Expecting my soul to grasp onto them Instantly knowing, feeling, understanding Their nature, knowing how to
You are somewhere And that is enough Enough is all I have Great empty arms Of distance Cavernous miles Resound and echo Filling the void With love’s longing I ache to close the gap Dissolve the miles Obliterate time And
I will make amends with me today, stop fighting with myself. Unthinkable to live without pain, in war with suffering. Quietly cries the flame without sound. While night lingers on. Nothing was easy for a quick resignation of ephemeral tears.
The mysterious rival: suffering of resignation. I am reading myself for the surrealism of life, juxtaposition of love and hate. Another blast went off. White rose and black rose in the same garland; ruins of truth were older than lies.
The hopeless eyes and tear stained horror of a far-away, fragile gaze, where once a sweet and happy child dwelt, till the innocence of life was erased. The tears have dried up, cried out with the pain of battered beseeching
The gentle creak of the suspension as i settle into the drivers seat, the sharp click of the key as it turns in the ignition, releasing the steering lock the metallic cough of the engine, as it starts up from
All those years I underwent orthodontic care for naught cuz profound gum recession and bone dissolution found me fraught with an angst riddled necessity whence dentures bought or will soon bring relief, where financial cost to me = aught. though
All those years I underwent orthodontic care for naught ‘cuz profound gum recession and bone dissolution found me fraught with angst riddled necessity whence dentures bought or will soon bring relief, where financial cost to me = aught. though grievous
Sore with discontent, Oblivion beckons, Fade out or live long- Perhaps not an option. Choices are illusions, Life a big lie, Return to innocence- Most desired. Loath and anguish, No logic to talk about, Haze of negativity- Call it depression.
Oh woman! Oh mother Abused beaten thrashed facing all torture You are not less than mother nature She gets disfigured scarred by her own Yet once in a while out comes her fury You behind that brave smiling mask From
I’ve contemplated sonnets long enough, And now I think I ought to have a stab; I’m not that sure about romantic stuff, But general this and that seems rather fab. Wordsworth’s general sonnets aren’t my thing, Although he’s written some
They are treated as mere numbers of human consequence, dotted ubiquitously on the front pages of tabloids and newspapers. They are figures that scatter my article weekly- seemingly just another number that the eyes will so casually scan over. Sometime
Live life not with cowardice But live it heroically Heroism needs no trumpet Nor does it need a stunning physique Heroism is bejewelled In simplicity Heroism does not boast Heroism never condescends Heroism takes care Heroism does not mean being
From my point of view, grandma was my pillar of love and strength Mother was a faithful wife, a loving homemaker, and a good hairdresser Daddy was a breadwinner, versatile entrepreneur, and plantation manager Jack, given to me when just
Waiting at the station for the train, My little brother asked “WHO ARE THEY?” Oddly dressed, Men on saree’s, Masculine voice, clapping all their way? He looked perplexed.. A spark of astonishment on his face.. Observing them for a while,
The rain clouds rushed in dark rage Shapeless masses, swollen and drunk Sudden outpour of a pearly lace Raindrops weaving me a precious sight. Lo, from blissful loom, the warp of heaven Threading through each coconut palm Spinning live yarns
Oh my love, Thank you for bringing me this precious gift, Life without you my love, Will be nearly impossible, I rather stare death right in the face, Than losing you for more than one second my love, I feel
Slowly, poured out of the blind carafe, like honey for our ears. You intoxicate every cell of me. Are you shaped to hold the viscous music filling us up ever so slowly? Almost off beat, almost the same rhythm, almost
Gasped for air as if suffocating, Not that breathing was strenuous, or I suffering disease, From responsibility I carried. With lips many profess to love me. Yet blinded to how I was affected. They explained: it was for me, if
It’s time now for me to go No more will I see falling snow The Daffodils that decorated the banks And now distance memories for a longing son Saffron and Apples, their fragrance I smell From a scent that once
Light, with an unclear vow of dragging me out of my inner demons, came, I, with a yearning eye embraced it, eliminating the notion of it, being a crooked game. The demons that swirl inside me, and the humble whisperings
Hail the messiah of the downtrodden soldiers of the heart and mind, Grief, chaos, anger and their friends need some counselling. So the Superman arrives with tickling serpentine fingers and darty snooker eyeballs; The cavalry of shenanigans on his nosey,
Dear father, Have you seen your daughter lately? You are missing a lot. You have missed a gamut of Her cuteness. I see her daily in my classroom, And she is growing into A wonderful young lady. She is smart.
Corpses floating in the river A child slowing dying at the roadside Watching men unload massive sacks of rice She pleaded and cried Gunshots heard in the night Screams for mercy unheard The smell of death filled the air Lifeless
Beauty, You must not die! For it enlightens the human heart And lowers the burden of heightened mind. The thing that is affable to being humane, How can we seize it in our grip With a single bond of faithfulness?
Inside the freshly renovated library they’re cataloging blood bags: those Rh-negative are honored on the upper shelves where nobody can reach them, those from universal donors are less valued, but they are very much needed in the emergency hospital for
Walking the white, white sand and watching the sunset makes me feel so sad that you’re not here with me to share what all the other lovers are sharing intimately well it leaves me feeling crazy over lonely in the
Sometimes, I look for a door in the floor of my bedroom— even though there’s no such door—just because it’ll be such an awesome thing to have. Wouldn’t you want one? I’ll become the envy of all my (imaginary) friends.
Lovers are doomed right from the start, because they follow their hearts. Just because… They leave behind the sanity of their minds. The sheer magnitude of emotions. The scary depth of feeling turns them blind. Their hearts so full of