Selfharm poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of selfharm poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on selfharm are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
She was a girl who loved colors and art The fact that she couldn’t draw tore her apart Maybe trying a different method would work, she thought As razor blades and cutters she bought She started drawing and the canvas
Open the door to the world It’s filled with natural beauty with high mountains , tall trees, streams and oceans Beautiful flowers and tiny creatures. Dangerous animals too are there Observe each and every tiny bit See how wonderful Gods
The hurt begins to move and meets in a funeral procession. For aging fireworks this was the last chance, but lake had dried up. There was no fall tonight of the moon All the stars had gone for a memorial
Her cryptic soul a storehouse of overflowing emotions. Guarded by the invisible cloak Her mind, a mess, the questions that raise. The shadows by her which stalk The body, the soul, The mind that howl All of her lost in
My gypsy soul, my gypsy soul, oh we are on the move once more. To hidden valleys and secret places, to hear the ocean’s almighty roar. I long gave up in denying the yearning of opening my wings to soar.
The noise of a crescent climbs wordlessly. In the night of dew and wind, for its native starless beams- holding the thread of a thought, walking through wall of disbelief. Before and after the murder of a spark; the heart
“Innocence looks through a window of crystal clear glass, there is no reflection, just perfect vision of clarity….. For it is through the eyes of a child that truth is captured, no shadows of grey…just pure simplicity. A child’s soul
My Africa A land of beauty and distinction A place where we have cultures and traditions A land of hope where the people are ingenious and Jocund Africa! The golden continent A place carved out of greatness A glimpse of
(Dedicated to my niece, Zeina…) When you are eighteen Just add the two numbers And be nine again This ancient tree is evergreen… When you are eighteen Weave the threads of friendship Play the cords of worship Sing a song
Kashmir weeps, All her admirers abandoned, She had all to attract, The beautiful valleys, Proud and elegant mountains, Greenary,lakes and what not? A heaven on earth, Kashmir weeps, Curses its destiny, Literary turned into a military camp, Rich culture heritage
Those days were at the pate of youth Friends murmured when we sat together. They were unaware of Our oath to be one forever. Our skins never met But only our eyes and hearts. For we have learned that Love
A night of deep and dreaming sleep on a warm and firm mattress with appropriate coverings was not necessarily an item on our wish list, because we drew accustomed to the more simpler forms of mattresses that were not firm
Fill out the CAPTCHA. Prove you’re not a human. There are so many stupid humans spamming the site It’s gibberish – you can tell it’s a human because they can’t write. When bots do it there is soul and calculation
The sea claims, here you are at my door. Leave behind the bustling streets. Walk up to me, pardon my storminess. Bury your feet in my sand and close your eyes. I shall salve you of endless perplexity and unrest.
We stand looking out the window, staring at life. The view is life changing, drastic, eye opening yet worth it. Trails we make our own. One before the other, over and around massive boulders. Separated for a moment then merge
Sweet moonlight shone down on earth A single beam broke through the clouds Dancing across ripples in the lake Sneaking into a window pane Where a pair of eyes open wide in awe Little feet patter on the floor Tiptoed
They say the things that finally break you, Are the words stuck in your throat. And she has years of thoughts not uttered, Crammed in the pockets of her coat. A whispher among a word, That’s learnt only to speak.
Imagine a world of love and laughter; of fun filled days and freedom till after the tea time call or the playtime bell, get back into line or you’ll catch some hell. Imagine a world of wonder and jest; of
In my trials and tribulations Be they however great I’ll forever own the splendor In the sanctity of faith You, my precious God Are my hope, guide and way Throughout this realm of ruin Where I patiently remain You amplify
The Window// (1) Behind the window, when clouds descend down over houses planted into mud, and seeds wake up, clock-hands go back to zero. Cottony fogs veil visions, so we might look inside, then I see a dewy dove carrying
Fallen from what was established, What was marginalized- Those Vedic norms have fallen apart And a gang rape is now an order, an order! A viral order, long ago planted in culture, By morons of male-feminine prowess, That has been
Insomnia used to drive me mad, Every night I would toss and turn, These days I think it’s really not bad, For that’s when I get my work done. My mind seems to come alive at night, My imagination sparks
Wynken Blynken and Nod??? (ah…oh methinks this pissant pooch woof lee barked up the wrong tree – reed don my mongrel friend) This poetic endeavor doth not boast nor brag to take digs on front page headline grabbing news, nonetheless
Times are fast flowing taking away that Precious bit of prudence we held so close to soothe A strung up nerve from letting loose. Today, imagine Getting caught At the cross wire of a Boy of ten frail years Asking
Remembrance was it, Mesmerized to be. With the white wall of waves, Running towards in leaps and bounds, To embrace the human world, With warmth they touch the froth, Immersed they’re in love and passion, Lashing against the rocks in
Leaves blown asunder Like images from a dream. Rushing to journeys end In life’s endless stream. Undercurrents swirling Dark as a cloudy day Smooth as silk above Warmed by the morning ray. There comes a meander, a bend In life’s
You told me lot of stories….. on the field, in the moonlit night. stars above and the moon alone listened to your words, far away, someone is singing a song, song of desire and despair song of departure……. a story
Wish I could edit life’s errors. Retrace my steps, reclaim All I lost, gave up on. I’d give my present knowledge To my younger self. Carry my youthful vigor for life, hold unto my experiences. My second thoughts I’d make
See the amazingly ironical sky Many stars are larger than the planet Still they seem to be some sort of fly I can feel my eyes becoming a electromagnet. Feeling the silence of the peaceful sigh Giving the problems yet
In this world of possession, Where, criticism creates frustration. Sufferings and pain have easy flow, Negativity and jealousy are in full glow. Where emptiness is all around, Pessimism can easily be found. Intolerance growing day by day, Depression is like
I watched as you skipped and danced Along the sand of Bamburgh Bay. White birds flew above Skimming waves along the way I shouted out You heard me not Lost in some fairy dance Stepped out in Bamburgh Bay. Hair