Resilience poems bring the best collection of short and long resilience poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great resilience rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these resilience poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on resilience are here for you.
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
She smiled like the sun, warm and bright- Ushering her brightness all around her; like the winter sun-light… Many would give their hearts for her, for she was beautiful, But she pretty, too pretty in fact to fall for them-
The Asperger syndrome: you will not speak, you will not tell me about fertilizer bomb. In a farmhouse blackwater becomes a death chamber. A toddler falls in a borewell, you can still measure hypothermia, the tilting of meteor saves the
My Father I see her in front of me, but not for long, she Leaves without a Word or goodbye, Disappears into her own brutal Darkness, NEVER seeming to plan to return, a deluded life I lived now shattered IN
It was widening, the rift, between waves and ocean: the resilience of depth was going to challenge the height of winds on the beach I stand against the sun empowered to face a solar eclipse unreal, something was sinister in
The breeze sent startling chills down my neck The snow drifted as my eyes settled on one fleck My breath was as rapid as plundering ocean waves I hopelessly scanned for a comfortable cave My legs dragged memories of significant
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
Are you the colors of Rainbow? To which, beautiful of beautifuls, bow Or, you are the burning sun! Enlighting the entire universe at once. Are you every visage’s fun? Every heart’s ecstasy you enhance …… Are you the drop of
The sky above our country Tells about the capacity This sweet country is place To forget your purgatory For friends it is flower For terrors it is burry Equality for the people Is the matter of hurry It is the
To waste hours eliminates days smell those flowers hold that gaze to bite your tongue, sometimes is best forgive the young as they learn the rest To blindly go ignoring choice with volume low that inner voice To needlessly worry
This day of sixty fruitful weeks shadow pristine relics of bundled keepsakes adorned in obsolete gazettes of passing snow storms, puppy training and next door’s junk mail. Transition logs re-call six states, five military orders, four duty stations, six rusted
Sever The strings Heart Stuffed and stitched Black as the crow A wooden figurine In a one man puppet show The audience Seated Indian style In front of the stage Their laughter And cheers Eat away at Him Like a
Twelve thousand days ago, give or take a few I tried counting up the seconds in a year But the numbers got out of hand, wouldn’t stay in line Wouldn’t act like numbers are supposed to I kept making mistakes,
“Dreams, against a wakening mind, like fleeting clouds, Weaken, vanish, and silently evanesce at daybreak … Nebulous dreams of a land unknown, Wishful hopes of a life unchained, Wistful fantasies of ambitions unbridled. Uncanny fears of a destiny uncertain Persistent
It keeps raining everything has become damp, I can feel the mist inside my head. Wooden doors don’t close anymore, windows don’t shut to keep the water out, I feel like drowning in this flood, and it keeps raining still….
A beautiful portrait of lovely ladies hangs in front of me in my workplace gazing at them I often wonder- – Where, where have we come from being them? ? Bejewelled, bedecked, beautified – -an epitome of adornment coy, silent.demure.humble
While I dread the monotony of days that pass me by, I relish in the lack of responsibility I deliberately choose for myself And the beauty of un-productivity that allows me to seep into the deep recesses of my thoughts
You ask about these tears These tears I cry…. Rolling down my face With every heave and sigh For a dying world Drowning in misery And hate ……These tears I cry For the lonely, The dying and The socially displaced
Where leaves abound, much fruit is rarely found, When words are more, finding much sense is hard, As when nuggets are dug up from the ground, Dross makes mountains, while gold yields but a shard; We laud marksmen, when hitting
Blessed is that man Or that man is Wise. Who doesn’t take advice. Who doesn’t give advice. Blessed is that man Or that man is Wise Who doesn’t live to repine. Who doesn’t judge, criticise. Blessed is that man Or
Monitoring for movement, scanning expectantly for signs. Electric eyes, barely blinking. Knowing the prey and her hiding places. Prowling the night, thoughts blacker than the surrounding darkness. Staccato stalking, sleek and streamlined, she smells the air. Nervous nose, almost aquiver.
Oft have I heard the preachers say, ‘Time n tide wait for none ‘ This is false, quite untrue, ‘Cause time n tide do wait for someone Memories flash, moments of joy, A glint of smile, a fateful cry; your
A hurt soul, tortured mind and cold heart an angry spirit, raging flame of pain and thirst to kill a heart breaking, chaotic lover with burning passion a sane killer taking spirits, hearts and souls putting fear in all that
To live in the moment, And not to worry about what comes after. To live in the present, And enjoy our time as youths, before it’s over. To not worry about the future, And everything that comes along with it.
The fragrance of Spring sweetly scents the air, And creeks are running full of melted snow, My eyes could not keep foolishly from glare, Of early morning sun’s radiating glow; More buds have opened up, aroused from sleep, To greet
Most dabbled indulgences are not means to any end Attempts just plain perhaps for old afflictions to mend Each day breaks new dawn again onto the cyclical night Waited more than my share for reversal of chronic plight Weary of
There are some things I have come to believe. Believe me when I say, I am not deceived. Sometimes the good die young, and never receive. Unfairness exists, and persists, though ill conceived. Sometimes everybody gets pushed around, or cheated.
A present overwhelmed with fear is easy to realize when all you have is secrets you wish to keep oblivious- from those whom you care for and seek their forgiveness These realizations are lessons learned through regrets- remorse, and most
Non-violence, he didn’t discover Rather, he only got it recover He practiced what he preached He preached what he practiced He experimented himself, to awake He learnt from his own mistake His autobiography was an experiment with truth That remains
I long to be in cahoots with you, It sounds a magical place. More tempting than peril or jeopardy, Less wearying than love or awe. Yes I’d rather be in cahoots with you. Let’s go there and get trouble and
She doesn’t look like much White,flat and pale on a ghostly scale Nothing mesmerising to touch But without her consent I can tell no tale. She is proud of her spotless white shroud This picky princess seldom settles For wearing
It was where I learned to read, and write, and count; I counted the days. It was where I realised carrying a cello was harder than playing it. It was where I engraved my name on the playground wall, beneath
My imagination sets sails on lotus leaves and paper boats: for I never meant to travel far. But to picture The little Mermaid’s adventures along the foamy edge of ocean’s floor! My imagination builds nests high up in tall trees,
I’ll start with some foundation for this provides my base, It helps hide any blemish that I find upon my face, It smooths out any wrinkles, it softens up my skin, I need to match the shade I need before
I love the way we’re getting close Treating it romantic even though it’s just a joke Thinking how can I end this folk Can I if admiration already goes? The piece of chocolate you’d given me Feeling the fake love