Worth Poems

(Britain, post-referendum) Dear Mister Prime Minister, Was it worth it? Was it worth cutting off Our country’s trade benefits, our commodity trade, Like the testicles of a prizewinning bull? Was it worth it? Was it worth tightening our borders, Like

Take cover!! There they are! Hold your fire we are running low Bombs are wet, grenades empty I hate this way of fighting… Never let your riffle fail Keep your bullet straight your eyes firm on enemy’s chest Shout in

My last wish to die In the blue heart of pacific sea Tell me O MY Where is the key? In those frozen blue depths Sensing bitterly that oceans’ wreath I am still holding my last breath For all my

Was it worth the wait? Even though the time couldn’t last Even though it was so short Was it worth the wait? How long do we have to wait? So the world can see It was meant to be Tell

Measure not the sincerity of friends, Time will show you worth of all, Those with you in cheers and delight, Probably won’t answer to your call, When you’re in trouble or lagging behind, Most of them’ll fly and flee. Lose

What the human mind can conjure.There is a Creator, in my mind there is no doubt. To some degree I can know a man’s mind, but the Creator’s mind is beyond mine to know. There are charlatans amongst us who’ll

Truly, this life is not worth living, the joy of death is privacy in the casket. What can mortal life render to the living other than; short-lived joy and protracted tumults in it’s basket of despair. What can out-live a

(America, following a landmark agreement) Dear Mr. President, Was it worth it? Was it worth Selling your country’s freedom, The liberty it is so famous for, For a few extra bucks in your pocket? Was it worth Strangling the creative

Here I am standing far away from myself , to touch the aroma of my own essence, feeling the words that will never become mine, I am still a star but with no more shine. Go on and never look

The tight schedules in the office frustrated him to quit the job in haste Post retirement he fancied life to be a bed of roses with no Boss to make him walk on thorns He did not bother what position

Is it all worth it? The question asked through the ages. Even sages had no answer for me. “You have the answer within your head” They said. I delved deep into my mind, my life, finding strife thus far. Had

I can’t name things. I can’t tell, with some mighty confidence, this is this or that is that. You tell me of love. but, I have known too many loves. blue love, green love, red love, even yellow love. I

This heaven is a pretty maid living in the Dark Age, With minds of the moron, hearts of the fool, crawling into her cradle of tears lying in waste, And she smiles, emotionless clusters in full. As the bleak eyes

Poetry evokes feelings, Stimulates thoughtful expressions, Evolving a strange emotion, Of an image in mind. It transforms everything, With a new perspective, A reflection of a photographic sight, In significant verses. Poetry is a pictorial, Imagery of words, Intensely used

I know not when I have to quit But I do know I have to quit Life looks so rosy in spite of me often experiencing the thorn Every morning when I get up I feel I am born afresh

She came into this world with a healthy loud cry. She was so very excited but, things looked awry. There were no happy smiles to greet her arrival., She had no clue, she had caused such upheaval. She was not

To entice by charm – Princess Ana, My teenage beauty. Never meant harm – singing Hosanna, She really is a cutie. Both met in a church – In her fairness, I wished her for a mate. She was in search

I see the colours shading the pretty smile in thoughts forlorn, The tears as bright as a diamond, but that shone aloof and alone. I hide the whimsical rays in the pocket of hope, But the hope that knows nowhere

When joy has fled the confines of your heart, And to sadness is where you sally forth, Had you been queen, still nary could you thwart, The glum where even clowns can’t be of worth; Some solace you might find

Surrounded with the Beautiful Mist, My heart knows, this is life – a gist. No matter how foggy it seems, My soul desires to take the Leap. Faith and Liberation prevails, Only the charismatic peace it exhales. In front of

Love is the power, in the center of your soul That makes you feel needed And wanted and whole It is the force within that heals the wounds of life That eases your anguish and lessens your strife It’s giving

An earthquake in my hearts’ kingdom Peaks and troughs,patterns were random Nurses making the fastest moves Trying to fill my cancerian grooves Blackening my last scarlet blood drop Weakening my smooth breaths’ rope I felt the cracks in closed,transparent, glass

Poems. They love. They fight. They can keep you up all night. They know what you think. They laugh, smile and wink. They stand by you, they heal. They know how you feel. Now touch a poem and see it

I was fed up of school for wearing uniforms and me eking out punishments from teachers I was dreaming of college life which I thought would be like a bird freely flying into the clouds and repented for being still

The times we live in…. Hungry urchins with big eyes.. Mugshots of them, liked by so many… No food tho’ in their sight, As they trudge along, for a miracle. It’s worth talking about, and long scoops. But then, it’s

I was feeling depressed as none paid attention to me I thought best way to get attention is to die & I tried I took out a long rope to hang The rope cut and I fell down I took

When in love every moment is worth more than rubies & diamonds, Moments converged to memories, those that never easily fades nor ends. When in love every smile is sweet, sweeter than cherries & chocolates, Smiles lasting miles, those that

I was turning Eight when I met him First in Nineteen Fifty Eight He looked to me so tall while for him I was too small His gentle smile and pat on my back sent me straight into dizzy heights

In this maddening town, I start my day, Early morning, with rough, uneven ride, The place where blindfolded people play, I try to play it right; however I fail each time, I think to myself Oh! You worthless being, You

angel of death- my guardian dear I close my eyes and see you near old friend- new friend- call my name that time- this time come again angel of death- I look within I see your face- I see my end I

You are like a dawn, Just beginning to be born. Every struggle, every pain, Promising yourself that never Will it go in vain. All so you can be that someone original, Someone who will always be there for you as

There are three kinds of love, Love that tests you, Love that loves you, Love that doesn’t love you back. The love that tests you, doesn’t conquer, it leads you, to the unfathomable galaxies, most of them are imaginary, where

When I see you, I have a smile As being with you makes my living worth a while When I see you you No words can describe the warm feeling I get that fills me inside When I see you

Will you bring me back? Will you,When I am on the verge of leaving this world? Sorrow doesn’t grieve me anymore; All my happiness-I have already sold. I have exercised an unidentified, reluctant approval, Accepting all that the world has

When all the sounds that fill the air die not, And for a little rest, my ears do crave, The joys of loneliness that I forgot, In silence lie, the hallmark of the grave; What little time for solitude is

When I was a little girl, my dolls would speak to me, As my friends for fight and play, they helped me be free! When I was a little girl, I would happily eat chocolate, The brown bars , the

Read the Words Is it just me? Or do people not stop to read? A poem, sonnet or book, Are all worth a patient look. But with such busy lives, We become like bees at our hives. Coming and going,

Has failure accepted me Or have I accepted it? I have written and painted, But have slid a bit. My paintings gain dust In my quiet studio, The poetry contest? I still do not know. I do not wish to

Bessy now pulls the cart towards their home that day Her size makes pulling baby carts as mere child’s play She’s huge, a Labrador, obtained from Russian friend Trained by cop, we’ll call Tim – that isn’t his real name

I was the type of person, That held onto things too tight, Unable to release my grip, When it no longer felt right. And although it gave me blisters, And my fingers would all ache, I always thought that holding

If time stops for no one, not even for love A straight line unbroken from morning to dusk Then my life is hollow, there’s nothing spellbound And seasons of living are well traveled ground If life’s made of spaces instead

As I sit across and gaze into those beautiful eyes, Its all so pure, no pretense without any guise. A faithful alliance I see, A dedication that never deserted me. An individual who loved without reasons, A person who did

Born as a fisherman swam in the ocean of poverty child labored to pay the school fees shown to the world Children have no religion practiced work as worship scaled Himalayas in academics rose step by step as scientist to

Self imposed sabbatical is nearly coming to end Time stood as witness all along as true friend Trials it has withstood tribulations too of sort Few were as expected some awfully fell short It needs introspecting to re jig and

God gave each of us Two ears but only one mouth Just to listen more And not too much brag about. Even if we need to talk Talk to the “Self” That is the real talk Rest is not worth

This heart keep a secret, secret that only this heart can keep, I dream an illusion, illusion that I cannot seek, I have taught my soul to not be fickle, fickle it always is, Not to know how to be