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Angst Life Poems | Life Poems About Angst

These Angst Life poems are examples of Life poems about Angst. These are the best examples of Angst Life poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme |

What Only Angles Hear

Daddy never did understand.
That violence doesnt bring comfort.
A lost soul seeking acceptance from a unwelcome hand.

She was silent no one ever knew.
The secrets behind her bruised eyes.
A shocking victem none but all had a clue.

She cried to empty walls never speaking aloud from fear.
A confession of pain and shattred trust.
this is only what angles hear.

Scars selfinflicted  are better than that 
dirty feeling.
As she lays a broken shell gazing  at the celling.

She questions if others know what will they say.
Doing whatever it takes to stay numb.
Innocence lost a parent should never betray.

The guilt was placed apon the wrong head.
Void of all emotion.
No child should yern to be dead.

At times it gets to uncomfortable so in 
another direction we  steer.
For at times it's just to painful to stomach.
What only angles  hear.


Details | Rhyme |

A LullabyTo The Lost

Life and cigarettes burn to fast.
We waste are time.
So within the moment you bask.

A pretty face has to age.
Every story meets  it's final page.
When life breaks you over its cost.
Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost.

The lights in the street hide all but the truth my 
dear.
You can act.
But you can never mask your  fear.

In dark rooms you sell all but your soul.
A wicked moment a stolen encounter.
All things take there toll.

That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm 
to be cold.
A secret that the bitter have already told.

Can you wash away there stench as from 
the past you are tossed.
In dark corners blood stained angles 
sing a lullaby  to the lost.

Is this hell or a nightmare  that knows no end.
A cell to most.
To others the only refuge inwhich they 
can depend.

she falls to the floor a lost look needle  
in arm.
Most will rememeber a doomed fool.
Others her wreckless charm.

She was  a junkie  and a easy lay.
More bones are broken.
Over words others say.

She sold flesh but payed the ultimate
cost.
In a dingy corner of th world.
Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.


Details | Acrostic |

Open Sores

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 the fear in my heart, 
it tears me apart leaving me with nothing to say... 
I worry the world will leave me. 
I cry because no one believes in me. 

I am a coward with open sores. 
I understand nothing comes easy. 
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me. 
I dream I am healed and brave. 
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave. 
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours. 
I am a coward with open sores. 


* 1st Place in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by Carolyn Devonshire on 3/8/2011

* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand on 5/11/2011 judged     
6/17/2011

                 
 ©  2011  ~JSLaM    


Details | Prose Poetry |

Stoned

In seeming innocence you lie upon the warm ochre
about the edges of the dust-strewn street,
a remnants of larger issues, crushed to just the right size by a killing blow.
Before the mob merged, before cat calls raised the hairs on the back of her neck,
she had been of a favorite pet, a cherished wife.  
A mother now lays dead, brought down by the bloodlust of the men around her.
Today, the stones are coated rust-red with the blood as the of women of Iraq 
are laid low by their husbands, sons, and fathers. 


Details | Free verse |

Things That Seemed Poetic

Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love that we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.


Details | Rhyme |

Fear

Trust in your fear
As it speaks with a voice
Or you'll be left in pieces
With no longer a choice

For your fear will take over
In vociferous chant
To pieces you will collapse
In meandering rant

So when ever this word
Called fear appears
Don't fall to pieces
Or your soul disappears




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-3.php


Details | I do not know? |

Anger

There it is again
Bubbling up from within
Wretched wrath washing over me
Vile disgusting filth freely flowing
Angry demons seizing control
Forced attrition to evil urges

Screaming 
Yelling
Rants of rage

Watched from within
Helpless
Powerless

Unable to soothe the beast
Surrender to aggression
Until the bile is expelled
Vomited forth in fury
Leaving only the bitter tastes
Of regret and sorrow 


Details | Rhyme |

A Forest

The night like clouded charcoal scorched,
A sea of trees with starlight torched.
A night where laws are sound asleep,
Anarchic prayers running deep.

Alone I hear the wretched screams
Of screeching trees... or so it seems.
The cries protract into the air,
Without a sound they disappear.

The shrieks have bartered now anew
With sounds of meat and boney chew
Discharging from the faithless trees
And snarling with my memories.

But creatures' gruesome growlings drown.
I smell the gunpowder and frown.
The waging sounds of war advance
In battle stance with gun and lance.

The sounds of bleeding men enhanced,
The sounds of fate and time and chance,
No sooner do they cross the trees
Than fade as all their voices freeze.

But worse than bombshell sounds occur;
The storms, the winds, the thunder stirs.
The roars that shake the forest's roots,
The flowers, soil, and passion fruits

A rainy resonance restocks
The grass the air the woods the rocks
And washes with its dancing tingle
All the sounds that intermingle:

A dreaming forest in the night,
And trapped within its fanfare fright,
It chokes me in its thunder thrill
And hangs me in the silence still,
And hangs me in the silence still.


Details | I do not know? |

Raindrops

Raindrops
are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
my spine

Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty 
about what tomorrows
pain may bring

They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
illumination. glistening
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best

Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide

Ready to Receive
whatever
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
my spine

My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
does bring
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers
home

For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine


Details | Elegy |

Abrading Volley

Rainfall washing
Light splashes on windowpane…

Leaving nothing behind
No pattern or trace…

If only those tears
Anguishly wept for you…

Upon your deathbed
Had washed away…

Cleansing the pain
That even now abrades my spirit…


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