These Pain Metaphor poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Pain. These are the best examples of Pain Metaphor poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
All results of
She is the muse to her own sorrow;
She is the digger of her grave.
She is the painter of her ocean view
and every fatal wave.
She is the shadow of her Father;
She is the darkness in your sight.
She is the night without the stars
surrounding pale moonlight.
She is the music with no words;
She is sweet love without the reason.
She is your dreamer with submission
cold by warmth with every season.
She is your pet with cold intentions;
She is your baby scared and shaken.
She is the bold and pure- the lost and found,
She is a soul awakened.
Love bites like the first frost in late autumn.
It kills whatever flowers have survived since summer ended.
The frost slowly seeps into the stem, totally consumes the petals,
then when it least expects it,
freezes them, biting deep into the roots,
and choking it to death.
Eventually leaving nothing but a dead, rotted weed.
My love for you was like that flower,
and like that flower my heart was wild and free.
Until, one day when I was frost bitten, by your love for me,
which like that frost, was cold and uncaring.
Love bites like frost to a flower.
It hurts everything in it's path.
You know it's coming, and there is no way to stop it.
Nothing lasts forever.
Written by: Kelly Deschler motif: nature & philosophical (old poem)
“Abandon ship and from her flee
Better her than all be lost to sea.”
“First Mate, be rendered silent,” is the captain’s plea
“Dear crew, I beg, depart not, stay along with me.”
But Admiral calls from ships numbered three.
“Leave Elpida alone, and Captain, for drowning.”
Then company vanished, quick as a wink.
Left small, untested sailboat to sink.
Night reached down on vast ocean’s face,
And soon sea’s swells were by darkness embraced
Light blazed cross the sky, wind roared from the heat.
The blue’s anger and rage against terrified vessel did beat.
More and most fiercely Elpida battled the deep.
Up ‘til the moment Earth sunk in her teeth.
The storm screamed on, endless as the heavens are deep.
And for half a score years, the sun, from Captain's eyes, night did keep.
For two times for every five, did the captain despair
Lost upon foreign soil, abandon by fleet out there.
To stumble upon natives, fate had it be.
An amiable bunch, again the odd number three.
To restore broken vessel labored the four
Sew up the hull, repair ruptured floors.
And for time, two times, and three times more
Toiled this group ’til there was work no more.
And the sun, as, of course, it would be
Broke the horizon and bore new day on the sea.
Set the deserted again to conquer the deep.
No armada to accompany, but lone Captain, no fleet.
And now, even now, sails Elpida Berregin.
Meeting new worlds by way of the sea.
In all her travels she met again her former fleet,
But Captain did not the Admiral re-meet.
For they had become galleys of ghosts;
Galleys to whom the dead were tending.
Offering up a prayer, Captain took his leave,
And having left, returned to journeying.
“Abandon ship and from her flee.”
Perhaps they, but never me.
Elpida Berregin, mighty galleon proved by sea,
A crew member, forever yours, will I be,
And will serve your Captain most faithfully.
you won’t listen to me, so i write to you on my arms.
this one says i needed you and you weren’t there.
this one says i’m bleeding but you don’t care.
i wrote you this one out of despair,
seemed like you always had to be at some other somewhere,
and it hurts, because it’s me you’re dismissin’,
with no time to listen, just need your attention,
it’s your touch i’m missin’, look me in my eye,
i know you see my letters, so why don’t i get a reply?
i guess it’s worth it just to try,
to get you to notice me just one more time,
write you just one last line,
but i’m runnin’ out of time ‘cause i’m runnin’ out of ink,
needin’ more time to think,
but i don’t have it, so i sign my last letter and address it to you,
i hope this one gets through
I dig into the open wounds of self preservation,
...from way over there,
my love jingling in your pocket
as if it were the loose change
in your wet dreams.
You were always numb to the mirror,
taking comfort in the blind eyed
discontent you've reigned in
with hard strokes of denial,
making your makeup seem
a little more made up in the dim lighting
Don't you think?
It was never about making love,
it was about forgetting.
My hips were a glowing red exit sign,
on the route of
....screwing life away.
Each moan, a promise that
even though you were dead inside,
you could still make a piece of the
Maybe even make something break.
And that made everything seem
a bit more tolerable...
until I started thanking you
for the damage inflicted.
The pain I felt, assurance
that I was alive.
I'm not sure why that
took the fun out of it
I still screamed bloody murder
when you sunk your teeth into
newly adjusted nerve endings..
The pain, more real than ever before.
I guess you never meant to
take a ride with someone just as
damaged as you.
You were hoping to be the only
ghost in this city, still bound
to a carnal playhouse.
I was a corpse long before I had any change to spare.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them
The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes. Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.
‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’
Let the Deicide commence.
You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.
I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways
Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own personal reality
A newborn butterfly just broke out of her cocoon shell.
She spread her orange and black wings
and attempted her first flight.
She not only flew, she soared through the heavens.
The sunlight gave her warmth that she had never known before.
Little did she know, that this feeling would not last.
This monarch would cross paths with an uncaring, ravenous bird.
It grasped the butterfly in it's claws,
and with the bird's hungry beak, it tore the precious wings from the monarch.
A bird doesn't care who it hurts,
as long as it satisfies them.
The butterfly was delirious, from the pain and the shock.
Her beautiful wings were taken away.
She could no longer fly amongst the warm sunlight.
She now only knows the despair and the darkness that she used to be.
Now that monarch has become a caterpillar.
And, death has become her cocoon.