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Best Innocence Poems

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Getting Burnt or the Loss of Innocence by Crisafulli, Anthony
Stolen Innocence by Johnson, Megan
Instincts of Innocence by Manassian, Eileen
The Instincts Of Innocence by Bordner, Justin
Instincts of Innocence by A. Sharma, Dr. Upma
The Instincts of Innocence by Dietrich, Andrea
Instincts of innocence by hunjeri, njeri
A Child's Innocence by Terry, Janece
First Grade Innocence by Jennings, CayCay
Innocence Lost for contest by Sergi, Ralph

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The Best Innocence Poems

Details | Innocence Poem | |


Walls of silence hold,
 Me prisoner,
The child held within,
 Cries out for release.
Relative solitude comforts, 
Not the tortured soul,
Inward coiling withdrawing,
 Deep inside. 
Shedding its outer skins,
Layer thus preserving its,
 Inner being.
Innocents shroud lies in ruins.
Gentle spirit, cast aside wings,
 Damaged appendages.
The fallen angel kneels in,
Shadows before mankind.
Unanswered prays rest upon,
 Deaf ears.
Muted sobs, echo on stilled,
 Winds breath.
Hardening to stone, the
 Chilled heart
 Reflects frozen repose.
Forgotten amongst mine own,
Childhood symbolizes a betrayed,
 Victim’s refuge.
Small fragile hands reach out,
 Into nothingness,
Hollow space grasping into,
Chained shackles twist,
 Imaginations warped view,
Somber tones cloud troubled,
Amidst life's trials, I'm aimlessly,
Without any form of stability.
I, alone remain shambles,
Displaced and damaged,
Beyond repair.
A broken doll thrown away,
By those who should have, 
Cared for her the most.


Copyright © cherl dunn

More great poems below...

Details | Innocence Poem | |


Trust not in the words: "In God We Trust", printed on currency,
for God and Money should be kept separate,
unless one desires to tempt fate with the Money-God,
tempt fate by not over-turning the money-lenders' tables,
although many might argue how this isn't good for business.

Why not know the value of life,
instead of focusing too hard on the prices of Idols.

People are bleating at the prospect of "God" being removed
from money, arguing that if God is removed from money,
the grazing grounds will become Godless.

With or without the words, 
a Money-God is a God nonetheless.
There is at least one true God, 
whether man-made or not;
an authority of control,
a God of profit margins.
Violence is a profit margin.
Hatred is a profit margin.
Bullets, Amendments, and Death, are all profit margins.

The war being waged upon children, is a profit margin.

If I had been given the chance, 
I would have tried my best to take him out,
morphed the vapours of my remaining hatred into bullets,
or torn him apart with my hands.
To stop innocents from losing their innocence.
There are lines drawn in minds,
that if crossed over, stretch beyond the bristle-board of rehabilitation.
Even Clockwork Orange bleeds into crimson spatters.

When a child survives a massacre,
runs across his school field to find safety from a stranger,
proclaiming to the stranger, "I can't go back to my school, it isn't safe there.
My teacher was killed, I don't have a teacher anymore.
All of my friends are dead."....

....then innocence has been lost, and the Money-God is empowered even more.
Lost innocence spreads like a disease through the minds of global villagers.
Fear breeds fear, breeds control and disintegration of the Stream-Mind.

If I had been given the chance,
I would have fought fire with fire,
fed the beast within, 
taken him apart with a breath of hatred.
Breathed it out, pushed it out, purged it out.

Satan is a scapegoat used by people who are unwilling 
to take accountability for their actions and sacred responsibilities.
The Beast is humanity -
not marked by a fairy-tale Devil,
but instead marked by the Money-God created in the image of man;
recreating the image of man through fear.

Some people might be intrigued by how many definitions of God there are.
Even if money is a necessity,
within our core there should reside a different Kingdom -
without and within, within and without.

If I had been given the chance -- past tense....

....if I am given the chance,
I will try my best to take him out,
smudge him out
with the remaining hatred in my heart.
Breathe it out, push it out, purge it out,

until all that's left is to love,
until all that's left is to love.

December 14th, 2012 - S.H.E.S:  28 - 2 = 26

January 7th, 2013


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Innocence Poem | |

The Secret

The Secret
Somewhere someplace not far away a couple lied together.
No talk about the future no talk about forever.
They had lovers of their own their lovers were not there.
It's best if kept a secret the love that they would share.

Lost in loves great passion covered in each others sweat.
They're going to have a baby but they don't know it yet.
In nine months the baby born a secret softly cries.
So much still for him to learn of life conceived in lies.

Often he just played alone it seemed it was his way.
Then one day the secret was sent outside to play. 
He grew strong like others did he gave it all his best.
Without one clue he never knew the truth beat in his chest.

Overwhelmed again and again the sadness he can't shake.
The devil whispered in his ear “You are a mistake”.
Still he tried through tears he cried to somehow rise above.
Getting lost time and again in his search for love.

When the walls came crashing down his whole world fell apart.
Welcome to the world of secrets and to your broken heart.
Shattered like a piece of glass his dreams fell to the ground.
Somewhere up near heaven even angels heard the sound.

Tears poured from his heart and soul through both day and night.
Searching for some healing in words that he would write.
Broken in so many ways all he meant for good.
Forever somehow secret where some misunderstood.

Now he walks in shadows seeking shelter from the rain.
Don't you dare look in his eyes you'll get lost inside his pain.
Like the secret long ago he spends his time alone.
It seems being by himself is now his comfort zone.

Asking nothing from no one wanting only just to give.
The only dream he still dreams is live and just let live.
A million miles on his heart and tears that he still cries.
So it is for secrets and those conceived in lies.
Edwin C Hofert

Copyright © Edwin Hofert

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Una and the Lion

This world of trouble soon will pass
For there beyond the crystal glass
A lamb and lion tread the grass
Beside a lass, beside a lass

This cord of present time shall break
And hate and fear shall flee and quake
Oh, may all vice this earth forsake!
And love awake! And love awake!

Oh, see him walk 'neath mighty trees!
The king of beasts; what strength and ease!
Yet now content this lass to please
Her hand to tease, her hand to tease

Behold! A pleasant form and face!
The child of beauty crowned with grace!
Fair Una treads at even pace
A better place, a better place

~ The form is Monotetra~
~Based on the painting 'Una and the Lion' by Briton Riviere. 

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst

Details | Innocence Poem | |


I was a fool.

I was a fool searching for reasons why.

Reasons why I
Grin with sudden boy giggles

As if Karma was my DJ,
Playing cotton candy woven riffs
Of rhythmic whispers



I savor dark chocolate Peanut M&Ms
Tasting her sincerity
With each Pacific Ocean observance
Her dialect portrays within
My sunset smiles

I was a fool.

A slightly nervous kid
At his first Sadie Hawkins dance

Holding a paper cup 
filled with swirly colored punch...
...not spiked


Futile attempts to stifle these vibrating legs
From crippling my exhaling urges

I was a fool.

Searching for irreplaceable reasons
Why my smiles became
An 11 year old innocence

I smile.
I blush.

I embrace a new dream
Written on embossed bucket list

To hold her 

To hold her

To hold her
towards sunrises’ incipience

One day
With no reasons why



©Drake J. Eszes

Copyright © Drake Eszes

Details | Innocence Poem | |

She's Wet

I took her hand at sweet sixteen
Kissed her on the cheek
The clouds looked down
We were about to be drowned
No umbrellas to protect our dreams

I held her hand
As we ran and ran
Raindrops kissing our cheeks
I gazed up at her delicious peeks
I said sorry sweet, do not cry

A tear she shed
As she bled
Her love was cut in two
She looked at me, as if to plea
Shivering she said, don’t mind me I am wet

Wipe away my damp memories

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Touch You There

Touch You There
If I touched you where I want to
I would not hold your hand.
As we walked on a beach somewhere
with our toes stuck in the sand.

I would not run my fingers
soft and gentle through your hair.
At least not until right after
I've already touched you there.

I would not consider
putting my mouth against your lips.
Or wrap my arms around you
with my hands holding your hips.

Although these are fine things
I hope to someday share.
If I can't touch what I want
I won't touch you anywhere.

I will not rub your shoulders
or your neck or your back too.
Until you look me in the eyes
while I touch that part of you.

I'll know when it happens
we both will feel it start.
Just looking at each other
when you let me touch your heart.
Edwin C Hofert

Copyright © Edwin Hofert

Details | Innocence Poem | |

The Instincts of Innocence

I reflect upon a word -
To understand more fully what it means,
I think of what it conjures up for me -
childhood times -
 those times when I believed all I was taught
from silly things like Santa Clause
 to sacred things
            like God and true religion.

The way I accepted and then reacted to 
my mother’s definitions  of what was wrong and right
  I think is how I might define 
           my instincts ….. of innocence.
Having learned well right from wrong in my youth,
            my instinct was to feel shock or dismay
when I saw others doing      things I deemed immoral,
especially when the doers were those that I looked up to
           inside the parameters of my own church.
However, my tolerance for others’ evil doing 
  increased year by year, 
            Even in my youth, I never judged them outright.
Those girls and boys that slept around through high school
              were judged inside the silence of my mind.
       I never shunned them.

A few more decades passed. 
      Religion’s walls around me were wearing down.
  I never did cement the cracks in my walls’ foundation
      as did some others in my community -
               others who sought to strengthen their own walls
    with instincts of innocence espoused inside
                        the sanctity of chapels.
When was it I let my childhood instincts  totally crumble?

Generally more tolerant than many of my friends
  that I grew up with, I saw “other” people
with eyes that rarely blinked  at what I deemed to be audacity.
Those with different customs, or with strange new religions
          I have accepted in my life and tried hard not to judge.
Some things, however, I cannot tolerate.
             Societies that put their women down and 
people who abuse the weak, emotionally as well as physically,
Never will those actions I accept.

Now I ponder this: Are the instincts of innocence simply tied
          to what we learn as children?
I have seen select groups of people shunned
            by both the religious and the non-religious
simply for the fact that they are different!
And from whence comes the idea in a child’s mind 
to make him think that someone should be shunned?
Do our instincts of innocence simply come
from that time of life
when we looked up to our parents as our Gods,
accepting their every teaching as Gospel
and feeling fear to ever go against them?
Many things we learn are for our good, and
societies would turn to chaos without some guidelines
akin to the ten commandments.

On the other hand,
as a child, I was innocent.
    My instinct was to trust in strangers.
              Then I learned better.
My instinct was to cringe but say nothing   
   the time I was inappropriately touched.
Thankfully, since then, I have learned better.
In some instances, I would say, 
our instincts of innocence
                                                should be laid to rest!

For a long while now, I’ve been seeing
a small but significant segment of the population
that differs in their sexual orientation or preference.
Those who taught me in my youth
 that I ought to be as meek as a child
         still point today to ancient Scriptures
                  as the way for all to keep their innocence.

But my walls have fallen down.
    I stand here in the rubble
              unsure that I've done right or wrong
         in letting many of my childhood  ways of thinking
                   collapse so utterly.
The instincts of my thinking adult mind tell me that
     I am not wrong to stand with those who want their right
                to the pursuit of their own happiness
despite the fact their actions are denounced
         by the very teachings on which I was raised.

Can we ever really lose completely 
those thoughts developed from our early teachings, 
which led to the instincts of our childhood innocence?
At times, I cannot be completely at ease
in what I have let go of and in who I have become,
for the instincts of innocence 
     still dwell           in the caverns of my mind.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Innocence Poem | |

I Used To Be a Dreamer

I used to be a dreamer Growing up within my mind, I was no heavy sleeper By creativity confined I used to be a hero One day, and then the next I could've been Jack Sparrow Prancing between the decks I used to live in a circus With carousels and flying cats, I'd muck about without a purpose All day out, with Mr. Tall Hat I used to be a rarity From anyone else, I was unique I used to live in fantasy Believed in fairy tales, even magic Today, I am another person As normal as they define Too scared to be uncommon Afraid to be left behind Today, I live in blunt reality A world of black and white, that outlaws every little oddity and punish them on sight I have been dead before, When they took my dreams away.

Copyright © Christy NP

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Angels of Destiny

Angels of destiny, sunk in empty eyes so clear,
Angels of destiny, every day your fate so near.
Seldom has your little face been graced with a smile
Nothing strikes you funny as you search the garbage pile.

These angels are babies, little babes without a bed.
Every day their hands held out for just one piece of bread.
Dreams of hoping something, anything would be more fare
Praying maybe someone, anyone might care.

Poor poor angels I would love to give much more,
But I'm too busy keeping up with the guy next door.
I wish he hadn’t bought that new boat down at the bay,
Now I'll have to save to buy a bigger one some day

Angels of destiny sentenced to a life of fears,
Angels of destiny, I will just leave you my tears.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Contest The Poet II
Gautami Phookan
Theme: Leave you my tears

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans

Details | Innocence Poem | |

The Loss of Innocence

I remember…

Shimmering gold ribbons
Draped over the 
Glassy surface of the bay of Fundy
On a black see through
Summer night

I was new to love
Shy beneath your penetrating gaze
At a loss for words

And you…
Telling me my eyes spoke volumes
And the tears that welled up in them 
Against my will
Eventually falling over the edge of innocence
Into adolescence 
As your whispers
And my sighs
Melted on the rippling crest 
Of  those waves
That came softly 
To break upon the shore
As the pale moon looked down 
In utter silence

Author:  Elaine George
Written: June, 2014

Copyright © Elaine George

Details | Innocence Poem | |


Rarest of beauty is she the ice fawn, 
Grazing within the ice meadows in crystal
Fields of frozen cloves, as the star lights
Flicker in brilliance shinning, all about her.
A shy creature of gentleness, made of ice
And snow, unique amongst the polarized canvas,
Alone in perfections glittering diamond dust, 
Of winter’s mystical enchantments.
Drinking from the pools of the moon,
Warmed by the twinkling shades of the rays,
Casted in the Aurora Borealis of the northern 
Pastures, beyond mankind’s encroachment.
Creations gathering of angel tears shed 
In tender moments of truest grace, was 
She this miracle thus was so made,
The ice fawn.
Chamber lights living Kalightoscope, a prism of
Dear shine, walking in splendors white ice.
A mystical being of opulence’s elegance, splashed
By the divine plate array, and brushed by the wings
Of the ethereal angelic.
A sparkling gem, a jewel of winter, with the
Soft brown eyes of clarity, behold the ice fawn
In all her glittering glory, walking in freedoms
Sacred Valley of the human imagination.

Copyright © cherl dunn

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Wild Passion

She’s wild, a passionate heart of love inspired Playing a violin, masterful and free So fast and fierce, her every lust is desired Violin sparks aflame burning intensely She screams with pleasure of the fire’s indulgence Peak of passion has reached beyond innocence Her mouth open with flames entering inside She loves her tremendous trek, her awesome ride Russell Sivey Happy Valentines Day

Copyright © Russell Sivey

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Babes Love

                                             Magnificent life
                                 Wondrous feeling of babes love
                                      Nestle between breasts

                                       By eve roper   11/9/2014

Copyright © Eve Roper

Details | Innocence Poem | |


walking home.
US two alone
At DUSK. Dark and US.
You were loving me
I was loving you.
We were loving we

Those months drifted by 
SLIGHTLY to soon.
Remember the sunset.
Remember the laureling

LAUREATE!  SUNSET  that was it!
You were great.

It's getting LATE.

Can't wait 'til  


Details | Innocence Poem | |

When Love Was Innocent

Sing for me the sweetest song of love when life was still so young. Those tender times and days devoid of cares and wants troubling the old, when smiles and laughter ruled the day, when worries passed and did not stay. Strum so softly your guitar just like the nights along the shore when music meant the world to us and dreams were spun with so much fun. With nary a thought to hindrances, and silence in between did not mean sadness. Sketch the image once again of all our hopes and aspirations. Paintbrush, our imaginations that fueled all our conversations. Let the canvas capture the moment when each one’s triumph was heaven sent. With words of wonder I will write of every look and all the sighs, of every throbbing thud within our hearts that sometimes drown the din. Still, we aimed our sight so high a desire defined by what’s ideal... When life was young, and love was innocent.
16 May 2015 Kim Patrice Nunez Any Poem That Received Honorable Mention Contest SPONSOR: Broken Wings

Copyright © Kim Patrice Nunez

Details | Innocence Poem | |


Now slipping in peace the hues of day Maybe this I fully know; Above the vales, the dappled fields Of bushy lanes and down to where The brimful city hoofs below. Again I feel the seed of dawn Coiled inside my roots till all Of white mist were drawn. I've twirled with the isles at night, Sweet and chaste I lie Where fresh and tinseled moonbeams sigh. .............. Andrea Dietrich's Picture Yourself As A Flower Contest *Orchid— symbol of refinement and innocence 5/8/2015

Copyright © nette onclaud

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Into Each Night I Now Endure

Into Each Night I Now Endure

Across the countryside I rode
youth in eager folly so bold
Resting in green tender grass
days did so serenely pass

Across these meadows I flew
racing blindly I did too
Upon that bright new hill
I found my greatest thrill

Into a glowing night with you
love and my life did renew
A diamond I surely had found
to your heart mine was bound

Time stopped and stood so still
we two never paid the bill
A folly, at what a great cost
tragedy hit , our love was lost

Into each night I now endure
pain of lost love so pure
Darkness eats my heart anew
always, always thinking of you

Always, always,  I think of you
my lost love, once so very true!

Robert Lindley 
June 14th, 1981

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Innocence Poem | |

And The Piper Played On

 And The Piper Played On

The mystic piper paid his earthly dues
 strange tunes he did so often choose
 Notes that ring so loud and so clear
 wiping away doubt and darkened fear

 Yet each found this a false delight
 shadows that lurched in evil night
 Music set to lowly goals and greed
 easing pains from a desperate need

 Dancing in a deepened hollow ring
 woes trailed all that shout and sing
 Piper plays on in his standard way
 as his victims spin and gaze far away

 Stars spin away so very far, far above
 this world needs more, always more love

Robert J. Lindley

note: Inspired by the words of a fellow poet here. Such inspiration is in great abundance here as this site offers the writings of so very many talented artists!
I am humbled to read such poetry and any subject can find inspiration from the tremendous number of offerings presented here each day! From seasoned poet to newbie the talent here is simply amazing..

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Innocence Poem | |


I read Darryl Ashton’s poem Called Pinocchio Rex and this brought back 
memories of a childhood incident

When I grew up we had a smallholding – the house was called ‘Longacre’ as we 
had over an acre of land.  Over the years we had chickens, pigs named Pinky 
and Porky and a goat called Susie… she had kids called Billy and Nanny – guess 
I was no good at names back then… but I digress
Attached to the house was a small village shop but my parents also made a 
small income from selling fresh eggs and in the summer home grown 
strawberries – I would help pick washing baskets of them and bag them up to 
Every week a little old man would arrive for his dozen eggs and if the shop was 
shut he would ring the doorbell. He wore a pointed felt hat, had steely blue 
eyes and the most enormous nose you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to him 
my parents nicknamed him 'Pinocchio'.
When I was aged about 7 years old the doorbell rang – mum was busy baking 
in the kitchen so I answered it. There in front of me stood this old man wanting 
his eggs. Mum shouted from the kitchen
‘Who is it Janet?’ 
I replied ‘Oh its only Pinocchio’ 
At once mum appeared from the kitchen, her face was the colour of beetroot. 
She apologised for the comment from her ‘cheeky daughter’ The man 
purchased his eggs and walked away – never to return!
The moral of this true tale is that parents ALWAYS tell the truth and that 
children have ears the size of an elephant and a mouth just as big … so if you 
don’t want them to repeat something YOU have said keep it zipped!

Jan Allison
11th August 2014

Copyright © JAN ALLISON

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Captcha WHA6

When I was only five
Heard mommy always's say
Angel  keep being naughty and you won't make it to

Entry for Adam Hapworth's
Captcha Acrostic Contest
G.L. All

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Lips Forever Joined

Kiss me passionately
Kiss with untetherd lips
Lips that are ripe
Lips that long to know everything
Everything waits for it's time
Everything has possibilities
Possibilities beyond limitations
Possibilities are laying in wait
Wait for me to come to you
Wait for my inexperienced touch
Touch me till you feel my longing
Touch the depth of your own wanting
Wanting and needing
Wanting that hurts
Hurts with a burning pleasure
Hurts with an ancient desire
Desire beyond our understanding
Desire that will not be contained
Contained you have been forced to be
Contained within your fathers image of innocence
Innocence must lead to mutual pleasure
Innocence is the doorway to your awakening 
Awakening your true essence
Awakening the power of your being
Being more
Being a true force of your own nature
Nature and nurture
Nature will give way to trancendence 
Trancendence to womanhood
Trancendence to your power
Power resides within your spirit
Power caresses your being
Being free to explore
Being aware of the moments
Moments that you will cherish
Moments shared with me
Me who wishes to know you
Me who has waited
Waited for you to be ready
Waited for our wedding day
Day after day imagining
Day and night you are part of my dreams
Dreams do come true
Dreams offer hope
Hope permeates our being
Hope that we will have forever
Forever can be felt in a moment
Forever pulses within your veins
Veins that carry the blood of our children
Moment by moment witness our becoming

For Justin Bordner's innocence contest.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux

Details | Innocence Poem | |

To Endear Me To You

What more can I do to endear me to you?
How can I endlessly draw your gaze?
How might I incline your heart to be mine,
To reside beside mine, always?

You might have guessed that you are my Muse—
The source of all my inspirations.
I’m doing my best to respond to your clues
To permanently win your affections.

Each song that I sing, each verse that I rhyme,
Are meant to attract your attentions.
Each bouquet that I bring, endless time after time, 
Are just my endearing enduring expressions.      

My soul’s compass always points towards you,
Pulled by more than just mere attraction.
My life is in focus, and my sky’s brightest blue
When I am searching in your direction.

What more can I do to endear me to you?
How can I cement your gaze?
What must I refine to call your heart mine,
That our paths may entwine, always.

Inspired by the song CHERISH by the group The  Association.  
Probably written in 2012 or 2013.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Nurse Anne

            Nurse Anne

Snow steeped in mountains and mountains steeped in snow
Evergreens and pine trees hold the earth with purpose
Nurse Anne steps into hospital from brutal winter cold
Measures stethoscopes and takes gentle pulses
Takes care of bullet wounds and children on her rounds
Wears white, green or blue uniforms or gowns while working
That’s pure speculation as you know
Nurse Anne is not a lawyer according to close sources
She writes poetry on line, refines them in her leisure time
Her prescription for good health and life is simple
Eat vegetables, fishes and less meat
Most importantly, Breath, (it helps a lot) 
Take moderation in everything
Get plenty of rest and sleep
And if you can’t be intelligent or stay on your toes
At least stay on your feet
Naturally a life spent vertically is not advised
Nurse Anne wants us all to exercise 
She will help you to get by and back to skiing
With her good guidance and by being wise
She does her noble work then travels home
Returns to evening
To writing poems at her own leisure

Copyright © Earl Schumacker

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Secreted Jewels

We dared meet
in clandestine disguise
behind an overlay of water

from watchful eyes peering
amid crystalline dancing droplets

Our first kiss
concealed from lurking eyes
extracting  jewels of youthful joy

Rainbow arks,
captured floating crowning’s,
appearing and captivating gems

©Debra Squyres  

For Member Contest: “Some Form of Crystalline”
Sponsored by: Nette OnCloude
Form: Parallelogram de Crystalline created by Karan Naidu

Copyright © Debra Squyres