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Best Blank Verse Poems

Below are the all-time best Blank Verse poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Blank verse poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Blank Verse Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Blank Verse poems are below this new poems list.

One Chapter of life by Brahma, Ronjoy
ANGER by Malawo, Collins
Freedom by Mukunga, Tafadzwa
GERALD by george, tonye
Rain by Brahma, Ronjoy
Pondering Zarathustra by Coyne, William
Seasons by Martyn, Monika
Where God is there is no Hopeless Situation by Morgan, Natasha
JUST ANOTHER DAY by Dorleku, Blaise
IT'S EARLY DAY YET by Annan, Leslie Nii Tete

View all new Blank Verse Poems

The Best Blank Verse Poems

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View It From Afar

To appreciate planet Earth
start with its snow capped mountains,
where sunbeams morph crystals of ice
into gems of glistening light.

Witness clouds traverse its skies
floating on a vista of blue,
or a setting sun smear scarlet
onto puffs of marshmallow white.

See jungles at its equator,  
create a sash of vibrant green,
and burnt sands ripple its deserts 
with shifting dunes of tans and creams.

See its leafy forests change from
deciduous to evergreen,
and tundra pitted with blue lakes
fade to stretches of virgin snow.

Watch volcanoes erupt in flame
spuing plumes of ebony smoke,
lava bleeding from gaping wounds
while giving birth to molten earth.

See azure and aquamarine
waves crested with white foamy froth,  
or tilted poles capped in ice
sparkling like crystalline jewels.

View it from afar as it spins
in the vacuum of space, like
a phantasmagorical
glossy cerulean marble.


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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Thirty-Eight, Cancer Poem: For Sharon

Thirty Eight ( Corny Cancer Poem) For Sharon

Hallmark has a million cards in their catalog
And not one of them says,
Life Sucks
American greetings had nothing that says
Thirty-eight and  Never coming home
So I hope it’s not too late to write this poem


After your eighth round of Chemo,
The Doctor says the best medicine is prayer
Any Pre-med drop out
Or High school Health student
Can interpret what this means
But it still just isn’t fair-


           Still who am I to be a pessimist?


And I apologize for screaming at your surgeons
(Telling  them to stop comparing 
your tumors to fruit)
For telling them you aren’t a damn fruit stand
Even for tossing those fruit diagrams 
In the Hazmat can

Sorry if I let things get out of hand

Tomorrow they get to pull out
Their zapper instruments
And shoot at your cells like you are
One of those Nintendo video games
Over and over again
And I get to sit in the waiting room
Hoping the red cells surrender
And the white ones win

  
And Tylenol has a zillion dollars
And can’t even find a cure for cancer
Bayer pharmaceuticals has no answer

And if you die at thirty-eight
I’ll probably boycott Tylenol
For the next twenty-three years
Advil for the next twenty-two
Blaming both of them
For not saving you


Forty calls to Bayer pharmaceuticals 
And not a single one returned
What kind of heroes are they
When they aren’t even concerned?


And I’m pissed off at Obama
And Dr. Phil and Oprah too
And all Nationally syndicated talk show host
Who are talking about who slept with who
When they should be talking about 
YOU


I’m also ticked at a thousand Nazis
And twenty millions gangbangers 
And eight-hundred serial killers
Who have working organs
When all you need is just one-


Still I know you wouldn’t even accept it
Even if there was a law that said you could
And you would say something corny like
God loves bad people as much
As he does the good

And i wish i could snatch 
half of my lymph nodes
And give them to you
But no Doctor would approve the surgery

So what else can i do
Except write this silly poem for you
except watch you lose weight and hair
And listen to doctors suggest prayer

And more chemo only means
More Hallmark moments at the hospital
And more crying, more dying
More doctors and chaplains lying


But mostly I’ll never get to figure out
How it took you thirty minutes
At Build-A-Yogurt in the mall
And they only had six flavors-
Even after I told you
Chocolate Coconut Sprinkle
 Was really the best of all


Tonight your children get to sleep in your bed
And pretend You’re coming home
And I get to cry for them and finish
This corny cancer poems


Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2015

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THE WHEEL HAS COME FULL CIRCLE

What goes up must come down. 
No colors can define who you are. 
You may own a cart or limousine. 
We'll still reach the end when it is near. 
I may be poor today and eat from trash. 
Tomorrow, you can't tell. I'll earn some cash. 
The bed where you lie is soft and wide. 
I sleep at a sidewalk and the stars are my lamp. 
You wake up each morn' with a feast on your table 
While we are scavenging to fill stomachs when we're able. 
Our destiny isn't written in the stars. 
We work for a living to thrive in this life. 
Be thankful every morning you witness the sun 
And pray tonight that no one lives same as I. 
Wheels come in full circle,rolling round and round. 
Today you'll be on top, 
I am watching from the ground. 
Let us bear in our minds that we are better than birds. 
Our loving Father ensures each mouth is fed. 
Not even the smallest details can pass by His eyes. 
So plant a seed of kindness and reap a better life. 



sponsor:FRANK H.

name of 
contest: SHAKESPEARE

*5th Place winner










Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014

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- When words are not enough -

 

  When a heaven cracks and stars go to sleep 
  Morning so incredibly quiet - 
  A peaceful morning - the sun's rays meet my gaze 
  I listen to the peace - to its eternal rest - and I think 
  that this moment must forever be in my heart 


  My eyes filled with clear and clean blue sky 
  So beautiful quiet morning - a fjord bright as a mirror 
  . . . I'm missing my words 
  Happiness rustling through the blood 
  and awakens my senses 
  I float among the clouds and angels 
  picks diamonds like they were candy 
  The sun glows in all its glory 
  The words are no longer in my power





  24.04.2014
  A-L Andresen :)


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014

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Acceptance

Opened like a morning leaf
exposed beneath the moon,
Resting in the tentacles
of a clouded ink coccoon.
Wringing hands now rest at peace-
the solitude of night,
a lantern in the wilderness
the miracle of flight.
Dancing on the tabletops
or falling from a swing,
is noticing the networking
of every living thing.
Observation is the art
that shows a single frame,
experience will turn to stone
the given and the gained.


Copyright © Nykki Houtkooper | Year Posted 2005

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Christmas Past

Christmas Past A time I still remember, Christmas day In 'fifty-three…I was age fourteen then… And I recall those very special hours At home, so cozy, warm, with family Of many generations, happily Around the sparkling tree, with old-time trim Of bubble lights, glass balls…and Christmas songs Playing softly on the record player. Extended family…my mom and dad Grandparents, brother, cousins, uncles, aunts… Spent happy hours…and such a blessed time Was shared as peace and love were felt by all. It was perhaps the only year we were Together in one place for Christmas day. I keep that time of family delight In memories that fill my heart…for some There on that day, so special in my thoughts, Are dearly missed, no longer here with us… They fly with angel wings, look down from high Above in Christmas past, with joy and love… As I…once the youngest, now the oldest Generation…carry on that spirit And make traditions last…to someday be My children and grandchildren’s Christmas past. Sandra M. Haight ~1st Place~ Contest: Any Poem Sponsor: Broken Wings Judged: 12/21/2015 ----------------------------------------------------------- ~1st Place~ Christmas Past, Present or Future Sponsor: Kelly Deschler Judged: 01/09/2015 Form: Blank Verse: Unrhymed, 10 syllables, 5 feet per line


Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014

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Madness(2)

Ever wrote a sequel
To a poem about 
The road of dead bodies
that you drove upon?

I dont Think So^^

O. Yeah im laughing
At such a radical idea
Thats not registerd yet
Into naiive-Like brain cells

Yeah! Am laughing^^

Wish I could just throw
My smile on that kid
That lay stone cold
Hand over ears even in death

Died of the noises...

Not laughing anymore?
Thought so
I just laid there staring
Right ontop of him

Dead silence...

I panicked
shoved my fist in his jaw
I felt his bone crunch
Now he doesnt have a screaming face

Wow....

You think thats deep?
The guy right next to the kid
Was his dad
They kept him alive to watch
As his son burned
then became death
and soon a fossil
And when they chunk this place again
He will be dust


...His father
    He was right there
      






...To watch


Now read those last three lines
Again
In Slow Mo
Read it and weep
Maybe the tears could drown
A father who is still there to watch
And spare him of the "Madness"


"Well,if its what you want to call it.
I mean you can call it unfair
Inhumane
Insane
But its just Mad-ness"


Copyright © sajdah al-riyami | Year Posted 2009

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Desolate

My hands and feet are numb
for I am cold and I have no
home to give me warmth.
A home and warmth are two
things I search for that is why
people call me a bum.
I have not eaten but I have
prayed and my prayers have
not yet been answer for I have
not eaten in days.
So I'll just lay in my place of 
sleep and pray once more as I
search for warmth,  for I have
found my home, The streets.


Copyright © THE POET 174 | Year Posted 2008

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For the Love of Poetry


For the Love of Poetry

For love of poetry, spellbound am I
by force that takes me to the land of words.
Beyond control, this power has its way
that leads me to uncover heart and soul.

This overwhelming power captures me;
like an addiction I consume fine words
for them to shape the thoughts within my mind;
create great imagery that can be read.

And only fellow poets know this pain
of finding special words to paint a theme.
This search for us becomes a magic hunt
of hide and seek to capture them like prey.

Consuming is this poet’s gift to write;
the task can be a tiresome marathon
of hours or days, and yet, if lucky can
flow out in minutes on the first clean page.

This love of writing poetry runs deep;
an inner urge that cannot be dispelled;
as captor, captive both, the poet’s goal…
to find some balance in completed works.


Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: For the Love of Poetry
Sponsor: John Lawless
Judged: 04/10/2016






Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016

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Where the City Folk Live

WHERE THE CITY FOLK LIVE

At the confluence of the cultures 
Where the politics ebb and flow
The tide of humanity crashes
Against their collective soul

The spires of religions
And posters of beliefs
Crush against each other
Through the weave of city streets

Registered colours of commerce
And trade mark tags of youth
Line the valleys of glass and steel
On floor, and wall, and roof

The constant clangs of progress
Idle growls of restricted motion
Drift across the green spaces
Invading every moment

The scent of communal sweat
Wafts upon the breeze
From the fires of exotic dishes
And the fumes of commercial needs

Feel free to swim the city
Frolic in the human flow
But be aware of the waves that break
Against your precious soul


Copyright © scott thirtyseven | Year Posted 2013

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- A Love So Great -

 

   May the sun always shine in your heart - melt away winter's ice
   Always look for beautiful colors - even if you never find the rainbow

   Nobody wants to experience the towering and storm high waves
   Adversity makes us strong - like sailing on the sea in storm

   Open up your heart - take a deep breath
   Dreams you will find among the stars - where peace prevails

   Let your thoughts dance between the clouds - without a worry in mind
   Bring your paint brush - paint the world in stunning colors

   Our world is so endlessly large
   A human so little, a love so great






30.12.2013
A-L  Andresen :)


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013

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The Ice Enchantress

As droplets freeze half-breathed
     From the mouth of Winter
          Howling winds, foreboding
               Bring gloom to pale landscape
                    Yet the Ice Enchantress 
                         Conjures sultriness:
                              Fluttering tree lashes
                                   Snow-covered ample breast
                                        Her crystal lips invite
                                             She burns  despite the chill
                                                  And dares adventurers
                                                       To succumb to her will
                                                            Despite the threat of death
                                                                 It's futile to resist
                                                                      The cool invitation
                                                                          Which glistens from her eyes
                                                                               As she entrances those
                                                                                    Who cannot look away
                                                                                          But step so willingly
                                                                                               Into a blissful fate








First place in Constance La France's "Let it Snow" contest


Copyright © Donna Golden | Year Posted 2009

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America: A Rant with Attendant Anecdotes, Amplifications, Dogmas, Harangues and Digressions

This ain't my first rodeo, so knowing the score more than four
I declare in this manure-flinging system of elected despotism
we ain't got no permanent friends, just permanent interests.
America's a dazzling chupacabra of a conceit
conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition
that shades of equality increase the gross market share.
We supplant the visible etchings of the colonial lash
with the invisible ones of debt by procuring more *****we don't need.
Breathless canaries in a cultural coal-mine,
fascicled to Breaking Bad, Mad Men and the Simpsons,
shackled to Amazon 's 'Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought'
we're driven out toward the oceans beneath Europa's baker's sugar crust
where freedom exists on a mono-cellular level
but knowing we 're not alone doesn't amount to manure 
cuz they ain't Christian microbes so they ain't gonna be no use to us.
Like wind before the thunder the supple susurrus of my heart 
sends frissons of pleasure jolting though my *****
bloated to such Brobdingnagian dimensions
as to feel at home in the hallowed aisles of Costco or Sam's Club.
Our finger wagging Uncle has overstayed his welcome,
So **** your tired, your poor -
you're taking away jobs from real Americans.
**** your huddled masses yearning to breathe free -
your emergency room doctor visits are costing taxpayers $2286 a pop.
**** the wretched refuse of your teeming shore -
we already have enough garbage to fill our landfills
Just gimme my VIZIO 80” Razor LED™ 3D Smart TV  for my eye candy
Gimme my  Google Nexus 8 cell phone cuz Steve Jobs can suck my dick
Gimme my Fidelio X1 headphones so I don't miss the subtle nuances in Willie Nelson's 
Gimme my Nestlé Crunch Girl Scout candy bars for my sweet tooth and latent pedophilia
Gimme my Dial Triple Moisture Body cuz my balls got a stank like 3 day old crawdads
Gimme my Quilted Northern Ultra Plush toilet tissue cuz my ass needs TLC and backdoor action
Gimme my Fruit Smoothie Shakers so I don't have to get gouged by some turban mofo at Jamba Juice
Gimme my Gillette Fusion ProGlide Power Razor so I don't look like Jesus-F-Christ or a sandnigger
Gimme my Lash Factor Eyelash Conditioner cuz flirtatious love winks should be unconditional

America's soul is shrinking and vanishing like glaciers.
Grackles ebonize the sky where once proud eagles soared.
With God's help, America will rise again like the body of Christ after a good whooping!
Come on y'all - don't let my patriotic rant spoil a perfectly good Klan rally.


Copyright © Beryl Dov | Year Posted 2013

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- The Summer Strength And Beauty -




The birds in the garden singing their songs

They tell their story with the heart of summer

A place of silence and aromatic flowers

Where hearts dance of happiness, passion and love

This sweet moment, with blue lilies growing in edge of the road

I can not find reality more beautiful anywhere else

It is a thought of escape from the world of realities

Where my heart is resting and nothing can disturb






03.07.2015 A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

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I Want to Skinny Dip

I want to skinny dip in pools of your eyes
And dry myself on lashes bordering there
I want to slide on lush plush of your lips
Then fall asleep on pillowed warmth of cheek
I want to reach the hollow of your chest
And camp above the rumbling of your heart 
I want to flirt with fingers of your hand
Then cloistered be, wrapped safe inside your palm
I want to enter world of waiting mouth
Explore and ride the wet waves of your tongue
I want to dance along what makes you man
And tease and please and swirl around and round
I want to course through rapids of your veins  
And then set fire to sanctum of your heart
I want to glide and dip in every breath
And sail the glorious sea of dreams and thoughts
I want all this and then I want much more,
For, darling, you're the one whom I adore

Eileen Manassian



Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015

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Balloons

The world is a heavy boulder,
both in bulk and severity...
We can lighten the burden -
it’s up to you, and up to me...

Let me be a beautiful balloon,
my string tied to the earth below.
Add each of you to help me pull us
upward and onward as our goal.

Each laugh, each smile of each day
makes the air grow fuller with love.
There may be sorrow below us,
but we can sigh and rise above...

Balloons, we can be, with our
strings tethered to a weary earth.
Rising skyward to a higher objective,
giving us each a new and brighter worth.


Copyright © Sherry Asbury | Year Posted 2012

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JUST THAT ARCHAIC POET


I press my hand on a montage and dream about all Star War's plights when words flit along zones, alive and retrace memories enshrined. On peaceful isle of your hammock Bring me notes from an old guitar That I may share euphoric thoughts Embracing a geek in silence. Past Tolkien's edge, a rite I bless While on sweet trail, God's pentagram lights optical dreams to refine, This after-life’s soft artistry. Pour down on me, my brother Chan, and fire my breath with your warm torch; for an archaic rhymer glides To nurture joy, fresh on my mind. Cyndi Mac Millan's A Word Collage For Chan Hurst by nette onclaud


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

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The Narcissistic Neanderthal

Like an archaic humanoid dinosaur
     you  plunder through life taking no prisoners,
             with your philosophical knuckles dragging on the ground.
You are a dying breed born of privilege and tenacious greed,
      tendering little in life other than your selfish need.
              What is it you seek in life other than your very personal comfort?
You never give a sideways glance to anyone with no chance of adding to your                                                       
      circumstance;  narrow minded cruelty subsidies the shutdown of any                               
               tenderness, allowing emotional banalities to supersede  integrity.
Your karmic debt is too cancerous to be free - 
      a lover of women among inept men, 
                but piteous fodder for contempt among strong women.
Neanderthal, you tossed love off the tongue like spit flung and stung my cheek with   
      runny dung....in disgust I turn away at your insipid attempt at manhood.  
                So many conquests, so little time.
The pittance you gave is but a trail of unwitting  shame,
       littered like Gretel's bread crumbs into a wilderness of pain...
                How sad you thought such a pittance could buy my soul.
I am no longer a member of your colonial servitude,
        and you are an inept fossil long past its prime.
                 From this moment, Narcissistic Neanderthal,

I am free.


Copyright © Anna Lee Stedman | Year Posted 2012

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The Force

When the blackest nightmares were realized
and bitter truth pierced cracked, brittle armor;
When candles of last hope flickered and faded
and darkness closed on the edge of vision;
When despair careened towards insanity
and aching fists and fingers began to slip;
When the abyss called, a mighty hand reached
and lifted me silent to higher ground


Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2012

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Septembe Blues

September, you are a wistful song
Summer sheds a tear when you come along
Sunny summer melodies yield to your mellow song
Its melody fades while yours grow strong

Summer ends and a certain sadness ensues
Sunny days make way for winter blues
September gives us glimpses of summer
Though days be short and golden leaves slumber

The vibrant colors September brings
disguise the coming winter sting
As summer dies it makes one last sunny stand
But will return, for thats how it was planned

Until then we must endure a harsh season
All bundled up, keeping warm is the reason
When the first snow  falls
The pristine beauty leaves us enthralled

Soon summer will begin anew
Gray clouds make way for skies of blue
We awaken from our winter slumber
And welcome the butterflies of summer

For Joanne Grisetti's Copy Cat contest

:Inspired by the poem: September
Which was written by: Andrea Dietrich




















Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2012

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Playing God

Listen to poem:

Playing God


I know she cherishes the sun, but I
must turn her often lest she grows deformed
and stifled in her quest for too much light.

And at the faithful window, day by day,
that glow appears—her sustenance of life.
Instinctively, she lifts her leafy palms
as if to catch each golden ray, and leans
to kiss the glass, back arched in thankful pose.

And I, like God, keep turning her around
to make her straight, aware that she must work
to find the light once more. An endless fight,
this turning, turning, cutting short her time
to fully drink of sun. And what despair
for her to face again the shadowed room—
to gather strength, confront the task at hand:
the twisting, writhing, standing tall, erect—
then leaning, reaching out for light again.

And yet she grows in beauty, health, and grace.
The secret lies in proper tension kept
between my God-like care to keep her straight,
and her strong will, to seek and worship sun.


Sandra M. Haight

~3rd Place~
Contest: I Drew A Blank
Sponsor: John Lawless
Judged: 06/02/2016

~1st Place~
Contest: Structured Forms-Iambic Verse:
Sponsor: Giorgio, A.V.
Judged: 02/23/2015

Blank Verse: Iambic, 10 syllables and 5 feet per line.


Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015

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A lady in a red dress

Her Red coloured dress resembled
a Venetian house
which lay besides the gondola
in an unrealized dream
as the Gondola retreated
through the hazy eyes of the canal
the house kept on getting bigger
painting one part of the lake 
with a mixed coating of 
the red
and the green accumulated piece
of the ubiquitous waters
but still red was the colour
green was the envy

she was herself
with the poets
while a poet
let one more dream die


Copyright © Sandeep Kulshrestha | Year Posted 2014

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Sunshine Radiance

Sunshine Radiance

Your love is my true sunshine radiance,
That greets me every day with such passion.
It sets my heart and emotions afire!
Words often fail me at times dearest one,
As I seek to share the depth of my love
For you and how it makes me feel daily.
The brightest of moons and stars in Heaven
Can’t match the splendor you bring to my life.
My heart is joyful when we touch and kiss!
Our love basks in your sunshine radiance!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(July 7, 2015) (Blank Verse)


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

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All I See Is Beauty

All I see is beauty in the burning of her words,
The flickering of flames,
Constructs of fires licking at the night
From snow white sheets of dreaming.

The senses of her bleeding, ink and roses,
Sensual vibrancy,
Gliding rails streaming to the stars,
The links between the earth and heaven’s tide.

All I see is beauty in the visions of her art,
The tenderness of angels,
Architects of chapels wrought of lace,
An arbitrary grace of love.

The impressions of her breathing, saffron breath,
Exhaling of her soul,
Bestow of sleeping kisses to the lips,
Priestess of the mind and loin.


Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2006

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Twixt Blaze and Claw

Abuses hurled and Alcohol gurgled,
In the vortex of confusion
And blurred vision.
Intoxicated pleasure from surreal leisure.
Fooled senses and numbed conscience.
Wiped existence of love and kindness cuffed.

Lashed at the one he once loved.
Cringed and clung to her faint faith.
She and her cursed fate.
Exploding paroxysm of hate.

Her whipped ivory skin and bleeding lips,
Eyes with teary tinge,
Has the harvest moon singed.
Stillness of the night, pierced
By memories of bitterness-sodden years.

"Hurt me not", she trembled with fear,
"let me live for my girl, dear".

The cries colored skies crimson.
Just one reason--Her little girl.
 
As her daughter stared
With flaming locks and eyes that flared.

By Angom Amy (15)


Copyright © Amy Angom | Year Posted 2014