Best Belittled Poems
I woke up that day with tears in my eyes,
after I heard about your father's demise.
Guess you've never understood,
the point of being his blood.
I remember when your mother left,
how he was totally bereft.
Ran off with the man next door,
not once did he call her a whore.
Not once did your mother call,
too busy having a ball.
Forgot about her only child,
to live a life fun and wild.
He knew he had to be strong,
so the world would do you no wrong.
Every night he held you tight,
his eyes your guiding light.
Every time you would cry,
he would kiss those tears dry.
Worked three jobs so you had the best,
not once did he fail in your request.
He suppressed all his sorrows deep inside,
he was broken but never did he subside.
Single he remained for the rest of his life,
dedicated to you, so you would not face strife.
Yet you too, decided to walk away,
tell me what led you astray?
You called him a religious bore,
when you ran out of that door.
He had your best interests at heart,
but you belittled him for not being smart.
Then you wonder why he finally broke,
all that stress gave him a deadly stroke.
Now you stand there with your unfaithful mother,
with someone who is young enough to be your brother.
Crocodile tears stream from your artificial face,
as his coffin is lowered into his final resting place.
How ironic it has started to pour with rain,
maybe it's God washing away all of his pain.
Don't come running to me for sympathy,
I have no time for those with no dignity.
All his sacrifices now you seem to realise,
but he can't hear you, it's too late to apologise.
Because of you he lived a life heartbroken,
forever you will regret those words unspoken.
P.S
If you think his inheritance will help your austerity,
he wasn't that stupid, he left it all to charity!
The Silent One
16 February 2018
Based on a true story
Categories:
belittled, anger, death, death of
Form:
Rhyme
"Neophoca"
I was dragged
out of my ocean
of dreams
when they peeled
my skin, I was broken,
an endangered species
feeding bits of me
to the carniverous
genus species
the genus
and gender
predatory
covetting my
freedom they
lost themselves
in the comforting
arms of my trust
they wore me out
made sleeves
of me, stole
my baby
expensive collateral;
their ownership belittled,
bruised and scorched
victory marks
like tattoos
marched on me
they branded me,
attached
to my life
untruthful labels,
their ignorance
basking
became them,
the sins
of the fetid
patriarchy
such violence, this
devoted dv, the human
seed planted
my baby,
zoo trained
and chained
I became uprooted
stalked, staked and
claimed
I became owned
I drowned in my
mortal dreams
such violence, this
devoted dv, the
imprisoned truth
life blood escaping
the juxtaposed
real me
Selkie
the humble humboldt
priests call me
Neophoca cinerea
they call me
reverently,
they sing me home,
home
to my only
holy See
they call me
reverently
Selkie
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Categories:
belittled, abuse, muse,
Form:
Narrative
A trip to a very large
and far away hospital.
I was visiting a sick member
from church, there belittled
For a wet place I felt on my pants
I sat on a drenched seat
You bet I wasn't very composed
With coffee stains to greet
My husband had sat a cuppa
down recklessly on the seat.
It had spilled~ soaked fabric cushion
Also brown chicken white meat
My face was red walking the halls.
I wasn't a debutante
Embarrassed totally
But wouldn't let it me daunt
Written: July 12, 2016
Inspired by the contest
Categories:
belittled, horror,
Form:
Rhyme
MY CLOUD by JOHN G. LAWLESS
I don’t remember asking…..
yet I am still hearing a babbling brook
of mindless chatter rolling pebbles
through my ears and across my mind.
Noisome, acridly scented, sounds,
a Charlie Brown like… wah–wah-wah
droning in the background of my life.
“You can’t say that!” “It might offend
somebody – somewhere – someday.”
“How can you even think that way??!!!”
“Don’t you care how other people feel?”
“Do you have any feelings at all for them?”
“You can’t do THAT!” “WHAT WILL
PEOPLE THINK!” “ Didn’t you see that sign?”
“Why can’t you just follow instructions, do
what you’re told, believe that we are right,
that WE know what is best for you?”
“If you ate less there would be more food
to feed the hungry.”(Yeah but then I’d be hungry.)
“If you drove less there would be more fuel
for others to burn and fewer emissions.”
(How the hell does that work???)
“If you would only follow all the shoulds
and musts then you’d know the reasons
why you should entrust the future of the
planet, the diet of your kids, to those of
us entitled to pry off freedom’s lids.”
“Every voice is equal when every voice
is heard.” (That could be said of cows
and sheep and noise within the herd.)
“What is it that you want?”, they ask
in obvious disdain and shudder when
I mention my First Amendment claim.
I wish that those who speak their minds
would allow me to do the same without
their constant reprimand “that I should
be ashamed”. When I speak, and write, and
act in a manner that I choose, I shouldn’t
be belittled by the puppets of the fools.
I do not need the politics of food, sex,
and lies, nor special interest groups that
see only through “their” eyes. I cannot
be an island, so I choose to be a cloud -
sit above the melee of “their” ever
spreading shroud. Therefore, the
conversations may be ended by
a verse, a substantial update
from the “islands” brutal curse
as I, in karaoke style, sing a
sixties refrain aloud:
HEY! HEY! YOU! YOU!
GET OFFA MY CLOUD!!**
**The Rolling Stones – Get off of My Cloud(1965)
John G. Lawless
5/30/2015
Categories:
belittled, freedom, political, rights,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Calling oneself a poet takes unmitigated gall and guts
And he or she should be prepared
To throw oneself off a high cliff
Or under the proverbial bus
Whenever the expression of innermost thoughts,
Emotions, ideas or beliefs are concerned
Those who lay it all out on the line often times
Get busted, beaten, belittled or burned.
Speaking straight from the heart
And soul typically involves taking
A road less easily traveled
Or mountain made steeper to climb
From those who read but cannot see
Beauty and truth hit them between their eyes.
To write of an ex-lover may tend to uncover
Bones buried deep in the past
Which are better unearthed for whatever they’re worth:
Sweet memories rarely fade fast.
Or perhaps you agree with riots in the streets
And nothing is worth more attention
Than a poet who subscribes
To every person who ought to strive
Towards the greatest good
For self and other friends
While you might think it better
To mind my own business
And stop writing about reality and make pretend…
Penning one’s personal moments
For others to debate
Is akin to placing their head on a stump
While waiting for the blade to penetrate
Skin and bone and taking us home
To a place where no one laughs
At anything we say or think
And our poetry will forever last.
Longer than the blood-letting
That oozes from our brains
While others stand outside of us
Laughing in the rain
As we foolish, fussy writers keep on
Twisting words and phrases
And the world keeps right on turning
Like our pithy, poetic pages.
12/4/2014
Categories:
belittled, bullying, courage, poems, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
I am a poor tailless cow.
The creator chases away my infesting flies.
I’m clotheless at the prime of the hamarttan
and my only blanket is my feebly tanned skin.
I’m barefoot on the pathful of thorns
and my teardrops reports my miseries to the earth.
I need love and in the midst of mates I go.
I’m trashed with the most painful looks,
and punched with the heaviest words.
My only crony thus remains my mischance.
Every right I’m denied.
And too bitter is my plea to the ears
of the unobliging heads.
My merit is always belittled,
and my promising tomorrow begrudged.
For every good I’m worth I’m sidelined—
that’s why I grow wild!
My fierce eye devoid of their leniency!
My ambition is rent into fragments—
that’s why I bust back so hard!
And in the end I’m felled,
taking my poetic justice.
Categories:
belittled, anger, emotions, loneliness,
Form:
Elegy
Her gentleness portrays softness, tenderness and humility.
Her gentleness is the definition of true strength;
a representation of consistency,
of determination.
Her gentleness shows the depth of her soul;
a soul filled with unconditional love,
a soul sensitive to treat others with kindness,
a soul genuine to herself that disseminates tranquility to those around her.
So alluring!
She captivates me from within.
She nourishes beautiful things to grow.
Her sweet benevolence cultivates my inner peace.
Nevertheless, this magnificent creature was persecuted.
There were those who belittled, degraded and disrespected her.
She was hunted down like an animal.
The prey of unruly predators.
Their weapons of hate were loaded with bullets
of hostility: an intentional intense dislike that thrives
on an elevated level of anger.
The barrage of bullets pierced through her heart
and penetrated the depths of her soul.
Her body became cold from the absence of her warmth.
No longer is there a sparkle because of those
who made her gentleness fade.
Now she believes her gentleness is a self-inflicted wound;
a wound shrouded in shame, embarrassment and betrayal.
However, I know it was her choice.
She was an embodiment of true courage.
Her gentleness is framed on the walls
of my heart for eternity.
Categories:
belittled, sad love, , cute,
Form:
Free verse
I would love to start of my poem about my mom, using words that refer to us having a bond,
However, words like embarrassment, hurt and definitely other words come to mind that are not so fond,
These are the words that come to mind when I tell about the woman who raised me,
As I continue to explain about her, you will see why I always wanted to flee.
She was the type of mom that always made me feel ugly inside and out,
She did not enjoy seeing me happy but preferred seeing me cry and pout.
I was humiliated, screamed at, hit, belittled and more,
I even had my stuff in my bedroom thrown to the floor.
She told me everything was my fault and that I did nothing right,
I hated to wake up in the morning and see the daylight.
We watched my father grow ill and I prayed she would change,
Instead it made her more cruel and more deranged.
My father was ill for many years and I knew why he was afraid to say goodbye,
All he worried about was my mother and this made me cry.
My husband decided it was time to let him pass the right way,
By making a promise we would take care of mom, sadly he passed away the next day.
We are now doing the right thing by upholding our words we said,
Even though deep inside the pain causes me to cry to sleep in bed.
My mother has humbled, maybe she has seen the light,
Or maybe knowing our sacrifices is always in her sight.
We will be building an upstairs for her to live, her own entrance she will need,
My promise to my dad I will fulfill, I say he'll be proud of me, in God's Speed.
I pray at night to give me faith because I hope my mom will be better,
I want to be able to share it with everyone in a poem or a, letter.
If she does not change and continues to remain the same,
I still say I did the right thing and there is no one to blame.
Debra Baviello
12/22/15
This poem is dedicated to my father. I miss him so much.
Categories:
belittled, absence, birth, dad, death,
Form:
Ballad
Written with admiration for Tom Cunningham ~ a gentle poet
maligned by one who really casts an aura of darkness
My smile is genuine and reaches to my eyes.
I do not wear a mask, nor a cloak of disguise
and I post poetry in my given Christian name.
From the hand of one it was written in a claim
that I cast shadows of dark energy around me.
Should I assume that I'm thought of as beastly?
Someone thinks that my spirit has gone awry.
I have to shake my head in disbelief as I decry,
"If you liken me to a sinister, malevolent being
I would ask what movies have you been seeing?"
Call me rude names if that makes you feel witty,
but each shines a gleaming light on your lubricity.
I'm not insulted by the sticks and stones thrown,
nor do I write anything that I would ever bemoan.
I will champion myself, my friends and my nation,
never seeking battle, nor in fear of confrontation.
I am not a troll, a gang member, or wolf in a pack,
so don't falsely accuse me. I won't take your flack.
There is no darkness surrounding my aura, I'm sure.
It may be that your malicious thoughts are impure.
You struggle with defining what's right from wrong.
Is there anyone with whom you can get along?
Friendships are important and you would be wise
to recall that poets should be a coalition of allies.
You're entitled to your opinions, and I am to mine,
but if they are different, don't moo like a bovine.
"Spiteful words," you said, my friends and I write.
Well, in this case I'll say you're absolutely right.
I've been told that rebuttals are a waste of my ink
but not a drop is wasted if it makes people think.
Think of the insult to a poet belittled by another.
One who treats everyone as a sister and brother.
Tom wrote of the bloodbath Putin draws in Ukraine
then selfish comments were made that left a stain
on his words that were written to ring out in truth.
Don't sling mud on other poet's by throwing a stone.
Give voice to your beliefs. Write one of your own.
And now, you're thinking, "You just slung mud."
Yes, I did, in hopes that it will land with a thud.
I don't relish penning negative lines of contention,
but sometimes things are in need of attention.
I'd rather write about Santa and Christmas cheer,
than calling out snide people who taunt and jeer.
Categories:
belittled, how i feel, perspective,
Form:
Rhyme
With a shade of colourless eyes
Have I looked upon a world of discrimination
My nature is a rare form of uniqueness
And I defile every race by description
Golden hair on pale silver skin
An African white woman of Timbuktu kin
I have danced to the tune of my mockery
With teary eyes have I smiled at victory
Sharp edged stares may pierce me daily
Yet I walk head high and step most steady
Though the sun remains a foe that tortures
Still I conquer it with protective amours
I scowled at the honey tongues of lying lovers
Professing love only to taste my rare fairness
I read through their lines but read in between better
For this fragile,ignorant creature was fully harnessed
I have been belittled, scoffed and shaken
And redefined by several ethnic culture
I have been judged,ignored and broken
I have been worshipped,feared and obscured
But I created the burning hero in Me
And won my inner battle the greatest battle to be
For i embraced my deepest weakness
And savoured every drop of success
I am that nature's mysterious creation
A shortsighted being with farther vision
I betrayed my timidity and trampled its shell
I am a story and this story I tell
By: Adams O Elizabeth
Lizdiamond World Of Poetry
Categories:
belittled, 12th grade, adventure, anti
Form:
Free verse
I'm hut.
In Ancient,
I was the perfect
Breeded by palms cut.
In my belly everyone liveth
When the villains wants to hurt
But now unlike then, I'm left with folks
Wisdom came to my people to make a difference
Little of their sweet talk I was belittled,so helpless
I am your HOME, your SHIELD, everyone care less.
Though I could lost the best but know i'm the first
What am I to you? That's the only question I'd left
Is it just a drawn triangle on a square box length?
Let the world know I am this!! written in concrete
Yea, I am the Hut, I was left alone, I am well hurt.
Categories:
belittled, africa, heartbroken, imagery, lonely,
Form:
Concrete
Gaslighted: Abused and lied to
Script is flipped when I challenge you
Smoothed over with wink & back-pat
Now I know, there's a word for that
Body-shamed: Self made disgusting
Cruel words believed, soul so trusting
Belittled- whether thin or fat
Now I know, there's a word for that
Demagogues: Hateful, evil plots
Stir up the worst that mankind's got
Republican or Democrat
Now I know, there's a word for that
Whitesplained: Ignored, talked over- I'm
Made null, a lifetime redefined
(Being white), you know, and that's that
Now I know there's a word for that
Reading, learning, feels less alone
Others' lives are much like my own
And now we've had this lovely chat
You know, too- there's a word for that
Categories:
belittled, community, encouraging, life, society,
Form:
Kyrielle
More than a rose is my love for you,
so how can it be that your heart is less true.
Yet, deeper in me, stirs the passion of baalim,
while your burning flamed fire has started to dim.
The petals that fall from this bud to the ground,
what's left, the remnants of the love that we found.
In truth, my desire, a single red rose,
boldly festers my limerence as my yearning grows.
You spoke of our love as if it were wrong,
and the passion we had could not keep it strong.
Now you stand there weeping, all adorned in white,
don't think that your tears have belittled this slight.
You have made it clear while your feeling departs,
how my now broken heart is missing some parts.
To me, you are more than a bud, red and rosy,
but unlike your bouquet, I am less than a posy.
02/06/2021
Categories:
belittled, jealousy, lost love, lust,
Form:
Couplet
You shattered my spirit
and wounded the heart
belittled my reason to be.
Did you think it diverts attention from Ghoul
who is hiding in your hideous soul?
But little you know about pure spirit,
that cannot be extinguished.
It’s still alive, glows under ruins of my soul,
it will not be vanquished.
No doubt I will rise again,
this will reveal the truth.
That free spirit then,
will heal, will mend, will soothe.
Categories:
belittled, abuse, betrayal, faith, feelings,
Form:
Rhyme
We march for we are tired of the abuse
We speak out for we are tired of being misused
We march for we demand for our lives to matter
We speak out for our lives to be valued like the American dollar
You value your jobs and comfortable living with family you hold dear
You should see we're just trying to live the same without being in fear
You and I are one in the same just different colors of skin
You look upon us as if coming to this land where we were once slaves now free is a sin
400 years we suffered at the hands of whips and chains
400 years we suffered being belittled and taken in vain
400 years we suffered loss due to this ongoing war that never ends
400 years needs to change and broaden the views of all for this message I send
Is to say it's time to take a stand and unite for black lives matter
Is to say we minorities are trying to live and provide for our family
Is to say as we march along the streets through our anger and chatter
We just want to walk alongside you hand and hand and be thought about daily
Not as another mistake who deserves to die by the hands of injustice
Not as another sin of God's creations that was a mistaken race
But as people who are just trying to live and do what we can fighting for justice
But as survivors who are trying to pave the way for a future generation among the surface
And teach that the world isn't so bad for there are those who care
And show that your beautiful inside and out as God's children none can take away
And preach there will be those who still will view your skin weak to compare
But always remember God is the one who rules over all and he has the final say
And as his children he watches over his own and his love is powerful to unite the world if we take a stand
Categories:
belittled, appreciation, black african american,
Form:
Rhyme