Best Cowardice Poems
He’d been too yellow to admit he was having an affair
Susie was seething and started screaming at his deception
She’d found long blonde hairs in her husband’s Cadillac car
Slowly she poured paint stripper over its ochre paintwork
Photo 3 Chosen – Contest Yellow Sponsored by Silent One
03~03~16
I hate myself today,
I hate being black
I hate that I didn’t help defend those
white supremacists, who were under heavy
anti-fascist attack
I hate that I chose to silently collaborate
with those fighting to protect democracy
Why didn’t I assist the alt-right people,
who wants us to be ruled by Nazi bigotry
My inaction was so cowardly
I hate myself for that ...
I’m a coward,
I hate being black
I hate that I hid,
while they were marching in the light of day,
shouting their racist slogans boldly
I shoulda joined them,
and let them unleash their anger on me
But, I was a coward ...
I didn’t wanna get beat down,
then lynched from a tree
Black people know, we ain’t equal to Aryans
On this main issue, with white supremacists I agree
I’ve always been an Uncle Tom
my whole life
Even married me an Auntie Ann wife
Black people know we oughta do
what those angry white people say
How in the world did we get so uppity,
acting in such a rebellious way
I hate myself,
I hate my black skin
Why didn’t I help those good KKK folk
who were merely
trying to bring back slavery again
I’m such a coward
for not helping to make their dream a reality
I detest my traitorous liberty ...
I always wanted to remain a slave;
In my dark, black heart,
I know I’m not white enough to be living free
The next time,
when the white supremacists
come out in force —
I’m gonna denounce my vow of cowardice,
just wait and see ... I’m gonna bravely
approach my masters on bended knee
And let them do whatsoever they will,
even if they choose to kill me
This is my tart tongue
firmly planted in my sweet cheek
— Romantic Warrior
Evil, Guns, Cowardice, Stupidity, and Fear
is anybody out there?
does anyone really care?
seventeen innocent souls departed this earth
unexpectedly and tragically so whilst leaving
grieving loved ones, classmates, and friends
to wade through another mass-murder event
is anybody out there?
does anyone really care?
many clownish and dud politicians in Washington, DC
including the vacuous person parading there as president
cleave themselves to a vaunted aura of self-righteousness
whilst singling out mental illness as the only true cause
is anybody out there?
does anyone really care?
the evil intentions and actions of a deranged person played
their horrific roles in sending these innocents through death’s
door at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School on that fatal day
as did guns, political cowardice, stupidity, and fear of the NRA
is anybody out there?
does anyone really care?
and so, it is: guns, guns, guns, guns, and even more guns
proliferate American society today as many in Congress
oppose common-sense gun legislation and more stringent
background checks whilst lapping up money from the NRA
is anybody out there?
does anyone really care?
standing with those families who are aggrieved in such tragedies
and embracing the memories of those who have so sadly perished
requires compassion, moral consciousness, love, and political courage
to do the right thing and not to succumb to greed and abject stupidity
is anybody out there?
does anyone really care?
yes, many good people are out there
and many of them do really care
it is now time for Congress and this president to wake up,
to grow some backbone, and to do the right thing to ensure
that tragedies like this one never occur again!
I am out there
and I do really care—do you?
enough is enough!
this madness must stop now!
support and stand by the students!
amen . . . amen . . . amen
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
February 18, 2018 (Political Verse)
Author’s Note: This poem is dedicated to all the students,
faculty, and staff at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School
in memory of those brave students and faculty members who
perished on that tragic day of February 14, 2018.
Someday when my land is more fertile
And my gardener is ready to toil
I shall welcome you my precious flower
And nurture you in my soil
Faced with responsibility and emotion
Humbled by the reality of obligation
I am compelled to be a coward
Too afraid to make you my own
I am a poor and naive flowerpot
Lacking the nutrients to keep a flower
I own no tool to make your bed
Or gold enough to maintain your petals
So, keep you away I must for now
To embark on making life better
Soon on a finer day you shall return
Under a more suitable weather
For someday, my dearest one
When I am brave enough to hold you
I shall love and keep you in my bosom
And grow you with care to blossom
By: Adams Elizabeth Oyarese
Lizdiamond Poetry World
My pen is hurt and it shakes as I write this,
the cowardice and the lack of courage displayed;
by a group with a cult like devotion is sad to behold,
morals are gone and history will not be kind.
My pen is hurt and it shakes as I write this,
I think you are honorable men and women;
and want what is best for your country,
I am sure you are good- remember your dreams.
My pen is hurt and it shakes as I write this,
like innocent souls you just followed devoted;
bound- you let another rule your very spirit,
I am sure you are good and know right from wrong.
My pen is hurt and it shakes as I write this,
I say, yes build a wall, a wall around yourself;
to protect you - find your inner voice,
oh, why could you not show strength and morals.
My pen is hurt and it shakes as I write this,
you could have soared high with the eagles;
can you look in the mirror with any joy now,
the people of the world will never forget.
History will remember your names.
_________________
February 14, 2021
Poetry/Dramatic Monologue/Cowardice
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1329-479-14
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Biting Satire
sponsor, Edward Ibeh, Judged 03/13/2021
Sixth Place
COWARDICE
My Good Brother
My Good Brother;
When did you turn to be a woman?
A fearful woman polishing your face with several
Bright assorted creams,
Tending your hair with expired permanent waves,
Wearing very short and transparent dresses that
Revealed the most hidden parts of your precious body,
Telling us all your secret plans and intents,
Talking much without any action,
Walking shakily in all your strides?
When did you turn to be such a spoilt woman
Having decayed morals?
Offering to everyone you invited home to enjoy your drinks
Toxic wine to depose their minds?
When like a hen you should have lain upon the eggs you laid
You scattered them ---
You scattered even our flock when you should have
Given them hay to feed upon
As a good shepherd does.
You poisoned the ears of our dogs to bark around and bite
Innocent people like mad rabid dogs.
You promised to give our cats healthy dish
Only to give them rotten fish
Just to sicken and weaken their brave hearts.
When would you put away your evil character?
Be the true man we know you to be
For all this is mere….. Cowardice.
By Ebenezer K N Baiden- Amissah
P O Box LG 1254,
Legon, Accra.
Contact: +233(0)245310380
+233(0) 201257024
I was once bullied, beaten
Burned and buried
With sneering slurs
I was an introvert
I gave them love
My compassion
I gave them all I had
They took advantage of me
And still I kept giving
And they took everything
And left me with nothing else to give
But hatred
I was afraid to say no
I felt feeble to stand my grounds
They made fun of me
My ragged garbs
And I could only watch them
Having fun amusing each other
Ripping my soul apart
My heart full of scars
Moaning in sorrow
They made me hate school
I was afraid to raise my hand
And
Ask when I did not understand
Afraid to do presentations and orals
And I failed…Morons
I called them friends
My Classmates
Yet
They filled me with vicious resentment
Burning in my chest
My eyes bleeding Vengeance
My breath became a feral windstorm
Terminating my feelings
I saw nasty curs when I grimaced at them
I tortured and killed insects
Burning them alive because all I could see
Were their evil faces
And I was killing myself
All along
Along the road I forgave them
And started to hate myself
For being a victim of cowardice
I have no one to blame
But myself
They did not chain my hands
Or latched my mouth
I was a coward
I couldn’t man up and defend myself
Or
Maybe I wasn’t scared of them
But
I was scared to become one of those undisciplined
Oaf minded juveniles
You shouldn’t disguise your actual self
To look better
To conform with friends
I am who I am
Not who they want me to be
I trashed myself more than they did
And I have learned my lesson
A man who is hurt beyond words
Begins to think of crossing swords
The air rending with harsh war cries:
"Shame on who for cowardice flies!"
A man who is hurt beyond words
Terrible things does to binding cords:
No more rushed "Hellos" and "His"
He leaves minds to find out the 'Whys?'
A man who is hurt beyond words
Accepts to fight in feared fjords,
On combat scenes there with war drum
That must talk or he'll war tunes hum...
A hurt-beyond-words: The pissed off,
Whose real self someone has switched off!
Pauline and Malcom..Its ending in tears..You tore up the
Chance.' You have enhanced many fears.' You've destroyed
Credibility with such a deceitful agility.' In 'the Age you'll be
Re-corded as no doubt paragons of order.? And Malcom you were doing so well.!! Even Sweden knew of you.' And I here that tell.
Tell..? The whole world has been made now poorer, by your inactions
Regarding Victoria.'
Villanelle : Hide not behind caste nor bought courtly name
[He who fears to affix his name to his face or words has something to hide unless the State is after him/her out of fear...]
Hide not behind caste nor bought courtly name
If no tyrant nor king seeks to blunt your pen
Not even Maquisards make such a claim
Lenin Mao Gandhi fear not given name
They stand by their word in the open
Hide not behind caste nor bought courtly name
Writers and poets sometimes flaunt pseudonym
Slip past the Law to fool friend behind pen
Not even Maquisards make such a claim
Some daren’t offend patrons with by-line fame
Wife child ageing mother rights will ripen
Hide not behind caste nor bought courtly name
Does the user of the second name blame
Circumstances or his own fears open
Not even Maquisards make such a claim
Fear of being caught outright in this game
May make hidden causes énergumène
Hide not behind caste nor bought courtly name
Not even Maquisards make such a claim
© T. Wignesan – Paris, November 17, 2021
Be of courageousness,
And not of cowardice.
Be of strength,
And not of weakness.
Be of joy,
And not of sorrow.
Be of joy,
Because there's a better tomorrow.
Be of love,
And not of hate.
Be of an emboldened spirit,
And stand in your faith.
Whatever offenses you may encounter in the world, even if they be doubled,
Remember that it is written:
'Let not your heart be troubled.'
Heroes and cowards share one thing in common.
Both Are Very Afraid.
Neither wants to do what needs to be done,
but the hero does it anyway.
The devil is in hearts of the many too afraid to be themselves
That are first to face the tune of day's clock
With wickedness thrained their dereliction can't stop
They're prudently persistent about the way you do things
Having absolutely no concept of love or compromising
When they finish destroying what they could
They move on to another
So when you see him sneering back at you
Across the table at the bar
Know it's him the snake breeching the weeds
The unholy morning star
Even
in fleeting
moments
of cowardice,
may you
still strive
to be bold
and prevail,
yet, remain
kind to those
who struggle,
stumble and fail!
Cowardice and Heroism,
both share one thing in common.
The coward and the hero are both very much afraid.
Neither wants to do what needs to be done,
but the hero just happens to do it anyway.