Abandonment Poems - Poems about Abandonment

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence. Well, I've never been innocent. And so, there is nothing left to do but seek. What's lost is found, and what's found is never good enough. So I guess you better work harder at washing their blood off of your hands— and the blood they spilt in an attempt to taint you. Yet here I stand: unmoved, and untainted. ...

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Love me, goddamn it, just love me. I know that I'm worthy or deserving of something, at least, don't make me get on my knees and beg again. Oh, wait, I forgot- I'm not allowed to be vulnerable. ...

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my dog is loved and that’s a fact yet it lives in fear of abandonment why so i ask you have a home it’s never happened you’ve never been left behind you’re safe why is it you live in fear when I head out that door your panic so intense frantically pacing your heart is racing it’s a primal fear wild beyond control how can i put your mind at ease? AP:...

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It was full of long stringy grass which had grown out, all over the back of the house. It hung over the bare walls. The briars were everywhere and they would prick you clean red blooded. The shed widows shattered and the door covered in heavy moss. the thick smoke running out from the chimney...

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A mark of scarlet was the first, Fitting of inferior character. He was associated of plagues, The name given of a tragedy. The dead made a bottomless pit on him, Rendered executed, the title of foundling. ...

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My spirit, Incinerated. Its ashes Descend back into That dark crater: That inky opaque abyss, Where the slightest din Is swallowed, Where that one fragment of light is asphyxiated, Held down, Stripped and raped from its alluring, golden iridescence. It drowned in its own tears And then scattered across its own grave. They turn their backs With apathy entrenched into their depths: The...

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You chance upon her in the far reaches of the backyard a place you never go and there she trembles a tiny tiger in a blurred world secreted in shadows below blackthorn shrubs faint mews draw you closer the power of her vulnerability fills your veins with a pulse rising brimming you with a nectar needed like a dry stream bed...

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This winter, the dogs are hungrier than ever And birds get away from the rotten trees The children abandon the orchard every afternoon And the street cats wail in the lonely nights Every dusk of this December, I'll go sit on the cold bench of my orchard And look at the withering red roses Till the last ray of the sun departs The...

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A breeze did slide in under eaves and stirred inside the air that grieves, my children grown my dreams have flown, alone I sit my rocking throne. My chair in front of window bare, I look… but husband’s soul elsewhere. Beneath my feet the floorboards moan, alone I sit my rocking throne. Each day I rock the same tic tock and change not...

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Someone slowly makes a move Somewhere in the night A light switch, a lighter Some razor blade laughter Making someone alright For an hour or maybe two Any more, you’re getting greedy Drive her home in the morning Any more, you’re getting needy And who’s got time For that in their life? The dark bishops dismay At this bleak array Of black pawns hiding Just out of...

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She was born with the whole sky in her hands, soft fingers reaching for a world that hadn’t yet told her no. Her first breath was limitless— the kind of infinite that only newborns know, before the world shrinks them down, before the weight of it all settles into their bones. She could have been anything. A girl who laughed, who danced, who...

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In her bedroom, Shayla sits alone, Her drawings scattered, her heart turned to stone. She pulls off her glasses, a sigh escapes her lips, "My whole life," she murmurs, "a maze I've slipped." Her hair, a cascade of brown, falls to her shoulder's grace, She waves her hand, a yearning, a pleading space. For Charles, the one she loves, but he...

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I thought I’d be the one someone would fight to keep. That my absence would make you pause, that my silence would make you care. I wasn’t asking for the world— just a sign that I mattered. But here I stand, wondering if I’ll always be the one waiting to be seen. Maybe I’m learning now: No one’s coming back. The fight I was waiting for starts...

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Some say your words act as a balm A fleet of sweet tidings Sailing into a gray dawn. With white sails riding On the heels of a grand mast That sways without invoking A need for true ballast. It seems as though your rage That spars with mine among the waves Has now chosen to disengage From me among the graves... Of sailors lost at sea Displaced...

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Her Parted Soul . for public domain She hoped that just a precious few would catch her when she stumbled, to lift her from her broken knees when so her spirit crumbled. But precious few were off at play. They did not hear her cry; and in the end as she went down the Hope within her died. Hope's fellows, Faith and Charity, lay too within...

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