Sores Poems - Poems about Sores

ribbon of highway gleams far into the future today squints... can’t see ...

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I saw blue memoirs fell from momma's eyes, as she looked into my brown retinas. Swiftly she removed my medicated glasses, a dominant gene I carved out from papa's bottled eyes. "Oh! sorry D!," She whispered! "Its just a matter of time new sores become old sores and grow to mature into scars" ...

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poetry scents a: sensor no sensor sense or no sense or sense soar no sense soar sense sore no sense sore sense ore no sense ore but scent sore censors send sore sense or no sense ore stan sand...

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Three days of brutal angry pain has changed her Eighty-two hours of pain She is joyless now Irritation and meanness, Gritting of the teeth Feeling mean, everything hurts She just got a Charley Horse in her leg Old age is killing her She is angry with her body today The one that is failing her Letting her down in so many directions Pain has changed...

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Maria, oh Maria, wherefore art thou Be sworn my love, my passion sores(?) like a swallow Very poetic eh? Amazing you say? Received the OBE, sent is back coz in awards I wallow...

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I've had so many knock knocks My life feels like a joke Speedbumps then roadblocks Drown in tears I choke Down, I'm nearly broke. The molten iron burns, show I slipped so low A golden sunburn, those blisters on my toe When the dumps look high like mountains rising Then I slump, fook that hike no point trying I can't face life, I don't...

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He spends one more day in his bed. To-do-lists run all ‘round his head. Noon came and then passed, he’s still on his ass. A hard day of work, he most dreads! “If man had created man, he’d be ashamed of his performance.” – Mark Twain...

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The love crawling through my blood, Sending vibrant waves like a flood. Digging deeper, As our love grows steeper. The beat to my heart, Growing off your chart. As the lines go farther, I plead for remorse to not bother. As I drawl you near, The devil sneers. Seeing I have an angel, Lying upon my arms. As my fingers linger, Filling in the empty strands of your...

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I am a coward with open sores. I write and wonder who it bores. I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly. I see others carrying out my dreams; that’s what’s defeated me. I am a coward with open sores. I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way. I touch base with...

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So many times before I have claimed to know. These things now form sores. Life was so simply a tour: Look at the sun; look at the snow. So many times before. Now life can be called a bore: At 5:45 will be the show. These things now form sores. I was obsessed with old lore: Luke Skywalker, "Nooo!" So many times before. My body unscathed to...

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