Best Dedicationpain Poems
Is this how it ends?
Alone I cry that this pain may end;
Each day brings more fear;
Each sunrise I pray for a better day;
Afraid of the sunset as it marks the end;
Sunset as a reminder that everything has an end;
Afraid to close my eyes fearing death;
Sleep eludes me with time;
The one body part I feed betrays me;
Each pain a reminder that I’m alive;
As a wipe each tear I value my hands,
A tear a reminder my hands function;
Seems like the only part yet to betray me;
Haven’t checked my legs since I’ve been in bed;
Never let you live without food;
Three times a day I feed you;
Never did I expect much from you;
How can you betray me like this?
I wake up in agony
and dont know why
has my body really given up on me
why should i try?
everyday there is new pain in my stomach and my chest
im becoming me less and less
im no longer younge
far from the sixteen year old girl i once was
now im twenty seven and frail and old
you may laugh at that i can see
but im riddled with arthiritis you see
i didnt ask for the pain
but i still wake up and smile
fore dwelling is just not my style.
Form:
Seconds of a glance, hours of speech, days of embrace, months of thoughts, years of
binding to be. The sky above dazzles with influences of the sun"s light of warm inspiration.
Souls mingle, bodies collide intimately, and breaths of passion are exchanged. A smile
reflects the mood in a day, a kiss seals the deal.
Trees dance and bushes wiggle, the grass sways with the wind like the thoughts of the
previous day of the sun"s influence. A sniff of perfume left upon satin sheets as wind through
an open window on a windy day skimmers across the bed. A thought reflects the memories
as hope peeks at the future.
Piddle paddle is the language spoken as rain speaks to the windows it falls upon. The same
rain which speaks words of growth and slight despair, yet washes away despair with three
drops that are repeated a million times over. Tiny speckles of motion that admit to passion
as well as contrite. A hand on a stomach, a face seen within a puddle reflects the coming.
Further into the season of life a cold white blanket covers existence, the bodies of the in-
organic and the mood of the organic. Men are made from this same white blanket to laugh
with children. Yes, the children who enjoy the priveledge of earth"s winter blanket. So a hug
reflects the warmth of two that will soon become three.
A time of pain for the benefit, the benefit of pain for a time as the siblings hail and sleet play
a little rough on all in its path. A pressure that must be endured, a pain that opens the path
for blessing. A tear as the reflection of the pain and happiness to come and go, to be and be
no more.
Slightly water again spills from the heavens as a means to drizzle away that which has been
endured for the sake of it all. Abducted by a breeze carrying the smell of inspiration,and the
light touch of satisfaction. A well deserved rest reflects the passion of strain and an awaiting
becomes the begining.
The rest is recovered from, the strain is achieved and completed. Eight motions of life and
atmosphere have been seen through by grace. All along allowing a ninth motion that brings
forth a rainbow... A rainbow of life... A child is born... A gift has been given!
Form:
In the night she comes,
Freeing all the women from their pain.
as she made their pain go numb
she looked at the abusers with disdain
I don't know how she does it
How could a woman with her own pain
Help other women with the same?
Pashant is what they called her.
Her arms were strong as steel.
She was a true fighter
as you can see she was very skilled
I still don't know how she does it
How could a woman with her own pain
Help other women with the same?
She didn't do this for attention
That wasn't the type of person she was
she did this for prevention
Everynight this is what she does
Oh, I don't know how she does it
How could a woman with her own pain
Help other women with the same?
Her eyes were very daring,
She didn't take any mess from anyone
She had the beauty of a fairy
She would not run
I don't know how she does it
How could a woman with her own pain
Help other women with the same?
They have told me,
to go to battle n war with the gods u'll have to be really
powerful,
Or just plain mad in pain not just pain but universal pain,
Combine with pain,love,sadness,anger,despair, n everything
else.
But for i hve over come tht pain when I'm in need of it just
becomes,
A reaction n a defence to protect me for when I am in
danger a rush of combine goes
Through my body I become the most hated thing to god for
there is no aNgel nor evil tht can get on my
Way to face the almighty for he gets a chill in his mind I
become a challenge to him
A danger him, I am no human, I am no monster, I am
nothing u have seen or will see. With nothing to
Lose n lost everything I had. I just ask n tell my self this.
Human ask "who r u?".
I say " who Am I to him? "
U ask ur self how dare I say n do this. For ill tell u who I am
n tell u where I am.
My name is viergro n I'm the monster tht lives n hides
inside,Felipe Santiago.
If u dare n want let's do this!
Every full moon I'm out, every 25th I am released. N for
every fight u just make my day.
I see the pain in your eyes,
And you should know I've been there too.
All you tell is lies,
Just to make it through.
I want to make your pain go away,
I want it to haunt you never again.
I want you to stay,
So I can help stop your sufferin.
But your stubborn and fearless,
Loveable, but careless.
You try to convince me
That none of this is so,
You tell me to leave it be,
And I do so you won't go.
But, I still worry about you,
Night and Day.
I hope it is soon,
That I can help find a way,
To where you won't have to lie,
And waste away
Just to make it through
Another day.
Form: