Stigma Poems - Poems about Stigma

We all fight a silent war Our hearts and minds feel the ache Yet we hide behind walls Try not to break They say It's not that bad we have control Though they don't know How it hurts my soul This wasn't our choice But it's there A deep angry voice Whisperings secrets in our ears Making us anxious Displaying our fears Though it...

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In the midst of the raging waves, they watched her gulp the callous cunning darts. Her crumbly heart cruelly impaled; the fate that enslaves. So fondly she’d mask the marks. Her soul would ache and bleed from life’s glaives. She cried an ocean for redemption from a life perpetually stark. In desperation, the rope ends it. With stigma the chums looked in...

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The faceless name of stigma with more eyes than not go side steps and looks there, media begot Whose singing and slur with stick and with stone the backhanded harm confiding to home With strength that’s locked up minds reeling to shout the jangling of keys to let that strength out It’s a tentative stride walking into the frame those keys are our tools to win back our name ...

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They teach us from a young age that everyone sees the grass as green, but what about the blind and those unable to distinguish colour. So please understand, that the world looks different to different people, and that's ok. For colour and shape, height and weight, we are all the same, we are all equal....

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You're too young to cry, They say, Too young to bare the weight of you're burdens. Yet your family beat you down, stripped you of your confidence, turned your smile into a frown. You're too old to cry, They say, too long ago did the trauma occur, just move on, forget. Little do they know the lingering aftershock, And how my confidence is still nowhere to...

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When you think of the word depression, what's the first thought that comes to mind? Is it someone stuck in bed, wiping their tears, wishing they were dead? Is it someone smiling and cracking jokes? For the seemingly happiest person, can also be the loneliest. Because depression doesn't have a look and can affect anyone of any age, of any gender....

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like a selfie that wasn’t taken I’m the guy in the street I know you’re captioning me from your side of the road and the shops with their massive eyes are making me too viral ...

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here's to the elephant in the room looks like he needs it...

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Sometimes I'm sweet sometimes I’m sour I am of seed and purple flower power I can be crazy while same time sane Tis God who gave me eccentric brain I don’t do horror too sensitive Because tomorrow I’d rather live Watching good things having good dreams Instead of the flashbacks haunting me Flashbacks of trauma from the past Of pain and drama of a...

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my long grey trunk and thick greying skin is finally wearing thin nobody talks to me and so what if I whispered from the rooftops despite being repeatedly murdered I can clear a room in seconds I earned the points, all the stares and I'm damn sure I'll use them it's tricky in a ceramic world oh, and you're standing on my cape ...

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(Inspired by Suga) The song of the piano, Take me away, Set me free from the silence, Take me with your notes, Away from the stigma which burns at thought, I remember you with every sound, Your song is my amnesia, Sing with me through every string, Every melody, Till I can't remember anymore, 'O' piano,lonely piano, Your song is my first love, My first love I...

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If I’m proud of my country does it make me racist? Better than all those in separate places, a stigma attached in nationality cases a taboo pride for thoughtless wasters. But I can be proud of my team or my family, sing songs out loud whilst beaming proudly, I can be proud of my...

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My struggles are real, There as real as they get. Like a bad nightmare replaying in my head. This is not a video game you can play, You can't win money on a lottery play. Or earn trophy's when life gets in the way. You can't even earn piece of mind, Because a piece of mind doesn't exist. I don't walk around with...

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Stigma; Kisses from Hell, slurring devoted fiend; Your demons linger on my lips, scald me....

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When suited with loneliness, sorrow is seductive. I reek trefoils and heed we bear a deep urge to relate. My quest for commonality steered me to a lake fictive. Pondering the twilight steam, so the lake whirls me to debate. Ridden by the ethos, a lilac cloud goes to a grape. I reek trefoils and heed we bear a deep urge...

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