Thankyou poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of thankyou poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on thankyou are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
A single word or phrase; a gesture Can trigger a feeling of wondrous rapture To be told that you’re worth more than the drifting sands That daily slip through your trembling hands To be surrounded by so many appreciative people
…and we sat with drenched feet Beautiful indeed an emotion silent and calm, yet blasted with a flush of happiness, Sat together sharing the air and the soil, love and smiles were no less, Embraced us the lint and shine
She was the blessing, She was the smile. She was the much awaited, From my womb into my hands. She was so tiny, Yet so appealing. One said–so red, fresh & blooming, Yeah, she was my little rose! For the
Those two twinkling eyes, Hopes and fears filled her eyes, She was scared, scared of the future She had an unknown fear deeply seated Her heart sank as she realized the truth She was not happy, She wanted to go
That old pair of socks, lying in the drawer, Reminds me of mom, winters and A long lost lover… Those fresh white textures Look worn out and grey And yet there’s so much they’re waiting to say… I touch them
Never in those sizzling conflicts displaying the pink eyes you were able to reach me. Was it metagenesis, forgetting your selfhood? Fragments of a beast were floating on sea. Was umblicus of death broken in the crotch of a mother?
Shed the mood Blue Open your heart, feel the world which seems so new Things may not change, Many angels or demons will stay down the memory lane, Perspective and change in attitude is the clue, Shed the mood Blue.
A raven tide silver moonlight scattered. warm waves cover me like a blanket. a curtain of clouds waiting to be lifted. waiting for the show to begin. the ocean calls out in soft whispers. a sound no one can hear
Dear Poo bear: You mean the world to me never thought I’d ever date you never thought you would’ve cared so much but sometimes you make me think about the choices I’m making. Tell me that everything is going to
Silhouettes more real than bodies degenerating into the dungeons of secrecy talking with mustaches seeing with fingers ignorant of colors refugees in their own land bereft of fun stars peep out during the day time to see the tangled twigs
The native walls were hounding me- out of game. I was playing chess with god. Was stoned to death. A small boy’s arm was crushed. He stole a bread. What was the truism of unheard voices? Groping in green darkness
Let me douse this flame with tears. My nightingale will sing no more. Ringed by dragons, I decide to tie knot with a tempest. When the birds start dying the frightened choir becomes dumb. I wait for the butterfly effect:
An image was talking to you in your mind. There were fudged voices of foot soldiers of half-gods. I was scared of synthetic leaves and black stars. It was a most explicit blood dance baring-all, the hiss of cones. You
I lift my pen today To write something Something about which Many a thousand lines Written by many a great people Yet I cannot for sure Define what we call it ‘love’. Love is not jealous, they say Love is
An autopsy was being conducted with brutality to silence the rising dialogue, pulling out the lethal crunch of scripted history. You want the kiss of a parting grain. A secondhand face crops up in a newspaper. Are you ashamed of
I thought I would fall, but there was an invisible wall… remember that scary doll, then I could hardly crawl… I thought I would fall, but there was an invisible wall… Everything was strange and new, mom I was looking
When taking a line of action, important is to discuss, decide, understand and realize everything that is going on in the mind at the present moment in time. Most importantly over a period of time, present will become a thing
Winterlude From November to March winter-green and winter-grey for all the things you never say, winter-silver and winter-gold for all the secrets left untold, winter-snow and winter-frost counting all the thing we’ve lost, winter-love and winter-pain washed away in freezing
The sky is sobbing and will not stop Drenching me with cold big drops. Dashing back indoors Dripping all over my clean floors. I shouted up to the sky “What’s wrong, why do you cry” A loud crash and burst
Between want and desire few crumbs of words will not satisfy. Facts and perception build a latticed smile between tears. Discreetly life catches a miasm, a fault to commit suicide. When will the exile end, of hope, a holy womb?
While dabbling in multitude a peculiarity stares in face Most of indulgent revelry is mislaid and out of place On probing deep recesses what really comes to fore All evident is make believe and hollow at deepest core Pretentious seems
Ready, set, go! When I am down and gloomy, When my head feels not-so-roomy, I set my internal clocks And fade out conception blocks. A small lantern can light up the night, And a different point of view can make
Here I stand, on the land where you wish me to dig my own grave with few seeds in my clenched fists hiding them from your glance Watching you write on my gravestone a name you gave me, ‘Frailty’, though
More choices is an illusion that laces the present with hope. Incessant are our needs yet like an endless race. Sullied with unattainable goals- we take a step back for a better perspective. Tracing our steps we devise plans that
Nothing more to do or see I’ve seen it all The sudden rise The tragic fall… A better life Supposedly awaits. Why not end this then? An honorable goodbye Rather than a bland farewell. Let’s celebrate one last time Bring
Well I was going down for the third time In the deep blue sea after our ship caught Fire mysteriously then I felt a hand taking Mine and a voice saying everything’s gonna Be ok, everything’s gonna be fine, I
Tell me about the bluetoothed man, of his stark naked truth, in toe for a brief pause. The toll was mounting. The tallest fraud of chilling facts. The city of cold murders of hermaphrodite. The sex of meanest level to
Night, oh playwright, to the soul’s loneliness I quest every line, beneath your cover One to recite, for heart’s harmonious So my part may be played — with another But stages, — life — dropped her encore curtain How heavied
I escaped from the arid reunion no uncle pressing a beer can at me no cousin failing to place me in the hierarchy out past the campground boundary dry seed pods scratching my calves find an apple tree at river’s
That evening was unlike any other evening This evening is similar to that evening What was so dear to me that evening? The same is dear to me this evening Her soul and body spiraled in my arms that evening