Best Orphan Poems
Now I lay me down to sleep
In my home that's really sweet
Had three large meals and a snack
There wasn't a hint of any lack
Comfortable shoes and clothes that fit
My heart's desires my money can get
Friends and family know my name
So many opportunities it's just insane
Doctors and dentists, heat and air
A hope and a future.. No despair
Little chance I'll die before I wake
But if I do, my soul God will take.
But the homeless orphan goes to sleep
His unbathed body on a filthy street
Sold himself today to get a meal
From a slimy stranger with a dollar bill
No life, no skills, no future, no hope
No family, no friends, no heat, no coat
No shelter, no job, no doctor, no care
No money, no support, no help anywhere
Despair and neglect, a fight to survive
A shell of a child more dead than alive
And if this orphan dies before he wakes
Will he know my God his soul to take?
~Lyric Man
Note: Just returned from two weeks in Africa. I’ve seen the most amazing and the most tragic sights. This poem/prayer is a contrast of a typical western lifestyle to that of a fatherless orphan.
PS-I’ve basically been without internet for the past two weeks and have missed reading your poetic works. May you and I never take take for granted all the blessings that we have been afforded!
Ellie was just three months old,
When she was brought to our sanctuary,
A safe haven was our fold.
She was an orphan, her mother,
Her sister, her aunt, her brother,
All chased and shot, and left to die,
From our sad experience we knew,
That probably a foul mouthed,
Red faced, sun frazzled man
Whose muscled legs would look
Disgusting,
And who with red eyes bulging
Would say,
What a booty,
We have in the truck today.
He would generate an excitement,
Of the atrocity they had
Committed, saying they would
Receive a bonus this month
Added to their pay.
And what was their booty,
A truck full of tusks
Elephants killed when it
Was still light,
Until dusk
Too dangerous at night.
A war between poachers
And rangers
How could rangers,
Gentle souls, who loved animals,
Equal the poachers trained brutality,
Who had not a trace
Of humanity.
Baby Ellie
Was found,
Starving, scared and cold,
Somewhere in the African bush
Almost dead,
But she survived a shot to the head.
We had other young orphans,
They all would play
As baby elephants do,
And slowly Ellie became stronger.
Her mummy who faced
Horrific slaughter,
Would have been so proud of
Her daughter.
Rehabilitation was done,
It was both work and fun.
Eight months later we all
Thought that it was time,
For Ellie to be with her own kind,
And knew she would find
In the African bush, a new
Family who would care
And love her.
Clumsily she got into the truck,
Perhaps it was fear that
Brought the smell of death near,
Awkwardly.
And hesitantly she walked
Down the ramp,
A mama elephant spied her first,
And with their recognizable gait,
And heavy weight,
Walked to one another,
Swinging their trunks,
And so, they met,
And side by side they walked
To the nearby water pan,
Our hearts sang,
As Ellie turned and let out
A loud,
But proud,
Thunderous trumpet,
Thank you she meant,
I love you too.
Ellie had finally
Come home,
To her own.
I was just past one when you left this earth
Suicide the decision that you made
Who was left to tell me 'bout my self-worth
No one! Only you, and you should have stayed
Too young to express my emotions well
Left with brothers and a drunken dad here
Did you consider how on earth I'd dwell
With dad who stayed drunk so he could shed tears
God sent a couple who would love and care
They filled in the gap when you were not here
God had a plan to fill the space that's bare
They gave me love, showed the way, taught God's near
God opened doors, gave spiritual birth
I was just past one, when you left this earth
Finis'
Contest: Orphan Sonnet
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Written: 05/20/2022
Checked with Syllable Counter.net
I used rhymezone.com on the internet to insure good rhymes
I know the sonnet form is orphan sonnet and doesn't mean it has to be about being an orphan or about an orphan. Since it was called an orphan sonnet, I thought I would use that as my theme.
I chance upon her
in the far reaches of the backyard,
a place I never go. There she trembles.
A tiny tiger, whose newborn eyes blur the world,
secreted in mother-scented-shadows
below blackthorn shrubs.
Faint mews draw me closer.
The power of her vulnerability
fills my veins with a ripple rising,
brimming me with a nectar needed,
like a dry stream bed restored by remedy rains.
How helpless she is with new eyes open.
Her eyes like skylights — clear
and filled with new-wild-blue innocence.
Neglected yet beautiful, I sense in her
the familiar phenomenon of the impulse to pulse.
Her outsized feistiness belying
such a petite package of plea and need
with teeny needle claws and barely a wisp of a hiss
...and I recall when I felt the fear
of being small and voiceless in a choiceless world.
Born a feral kitten, her mother likely lost
to speed-wheels of a car or snap-jaws of coyotes,
whose throats float steaming howls above black
saw-toothed pines to haunt the long night moon
...and I wonder, if she wonders,
if the sweet-milk-purrs with soft belly fur
will ever return to snuggle her.
She’s been cold and alone for far too long.
So I gather her in the hug of my hands
warming her as I draw her in and curl
my chest around her littleness.
A shield formed against her lone-ness.
...and I, a long-ago-child abandoned,
a child whose silent cries heard only by stoic walls,
reclaims a voice that helps me make a choice
not to let Nature decide how birth and fate collide.
So I sit with her, swaddle her, love her.
Nourish her with eye-dropper milk where
hearth embers still glow after the fire,
to heal the orphan and raise the phoenix within.
She sits alone
Shunned by those that rhyme
With sublime
Ridiculed by the raucous
And bellicose
For of all the words
It is said
She is the only one
That doesn’t rhyme
With anything.
She has ceased defending
Her presence
In the molten shades
Of breaking dawns
Her streaming brush stroked
Sunsets
She often sits alone
Amid the seasonal splendor
Of a New England Autumn
Shuffling through the rustling
Shades and shadows of her self.
She knows who she is
And that she does rhyme
For to rhyme
Is to blend easily
Seamlessly take center stage
Without seeking applause.
She seeks no curtain call
Only the crest of sunrise
Act one, Scene one
A fatherless generation
153 million or more
Abandoned and forgotten
Desperate and poor
A prisoner to hopelessness
Everyday so full of fear
In this chaotic world they live in
Nothing is ever clear
Could one soul make a difference..
If one could bring love near?
I've seen a thousand pictures
That can't escape my mind
Children without futures,
special needs of every kind
So much pain and suffering
And none of it makes sense
Orphans weary and distressed
In the present tense
So forgive me, my friends
if this sounds intense...
But I'm gonna say this loud
to make it clear
We've got to be doers
we can't disappear
We really need to care
let's remove excuse and fear
You and me are the difference
If we bring love near!
Today precious babies
Are abandoned with HIV or Downs
The world sees them as broken
Unwanted, lost and unfound
I pray there'll rise an advocate
Who refuses to let this be
So I'm gonna say this loud
to make it clear
We've got to be doers
we can't disappear
We really need to care
let's remove excuse and fear
You and me are the difference
if we bring love near!
In another country
That seems so far away
A teenage orphaned princess
Is aging out today
Someone needs to cry out
This sex-trade tragedy is not ok
So will you say this loud
to make it clear
We've got to be doers
we can't disappear
We really need to care
let's remove excuse and fear
You and me are the difference
if we bring love near!
Let's advocate loud, and not disappear
If we really care, we can bring love near!
~Lyric Man
Note: This is a write about the plight of fatherless orphans in our world. My passion is caring for hurting, vulnerable children. I use every resource I have to advocate internationally. I pray my life will be used to make a difference!
Orphan Annie
Visits everyday
Her big green eyes sharp, inquisitive
Looking for love, slinky and sultry
Spends hours
With me
Sharp claws.
Has pads,
Walks silently
Almost like a tight rope walker
Our Annie meows and meows, cute
Then cuddly
Resting head
On lap.
Bird appears,
Annie restless
Disappears to back of oak tree,
Comes back licking paws, bird gone
Annie’s tummy
Go Home
Babies’ waiting
ENTERING COMPETITION ; 'TRINET'
SPONSORED BY JOSEPH MAY
14/01/2021
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.
I like the thought of evolution
That a fish could outsmart god
Show him something new and bold
Like a human is something odd
I guess that’s just how people are
We think we’re all so special
7 billion people, all unique
Well I hate to be your buzz kill
But anarchist are just conformist
With a little dash of black
And an individual is just another punk
Who says rap is dead and the 60’s are back
An emo kid’s just a prep
Who balks at social adaptation
And a gothic kid is just a meat head jock
With less hand-eye coordination
So you’ll all pick: Fad or Fad
And you’ll all be some kind of elitist
Remember however, no one is truly unique
…well…except for all us artists
A work of art, I speak to you today.
I live and breathe the sad life of a boy
with solemn eyes and little time to play:
alone, I'm left to seek each simple joy
of finding water, food, and where to sleep.
No smile shows on my face, but in my hand
a tiny spray of flowers I will keep-
my lone possession in this barren land.
An orphaned boy am I, poor and alone,
who reaches out to you with pleading eyes.
No home for me, no treasures do I own;
no loving arms to soothe my tearful cries.
For just your smile and scraps of bread or two,
one special flower I will give to you.
O-Outward she seemed fine and healthy
R-Really it was a dagger in the heart to hear!
P-Penetrated through the ovaries was a cancer cyst.
H-Happened that it was the size of a grapefruit before we knew
A-And it had metastasized so that numbered her days.
N-Now both of my parents have passed on, and I at the age of 43 am orphaned.
In the middle—the center,
a bullseye did hide
Its heart bleeding red,
to target the lies
It cried out for justice,
it cried out in pain
Until an arrow struck deeply,
truth firmly ingrained
Its point forced its power,
its shaft driving home
A message of hope,
into falsehood atoned
And deep in your memory,
a last orphan screams
Renamed in the vengeance,
—rebirthed in this dream
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
Many a fond memory my heart does hold
Precious time spent with family
Always feeling loved and being told
The smell of freshly baked bread lingering in the morning air
Missing my Mom's cooking
Wishing I could still be there
Always feeling welcome and never out of place
Enjoying our family reunions
And the occasional three-legged race
My Mother and Father have since passed on
I'm now but an orphan
Since they are both now gone
Two years ago I lost what I loved most,
They have been with me all my life.
One fateful day an accident robbed,
Parents who treated me like a queen.
Life today is living for the moment,
Never to know what my future holds.
All the lights have been put off,
Put of never to light up my life again.
I am an orphan roaming in the street,
Orphaned at my tender age of four.
The dark of the streets is my companion,
While rains pours and sweeps my hood,
Sweeping it away while I am sleeping.
My family, my aunt and my uncles,
Sold me away to become a slave,
That’s how the streets became my home.
The bench now becomes my sweet bed,
Every morning waking up to face the day,
A day of agony and cries never to be heard,
With the waste food being my only hope.
The world looks on and shoves me away,
Walking a distance not to come close.
My torn clothes and my worn-out shoes,
Are the only possessions that I have.
In the streets my big brothers and sisters
Are haunted by men and women without morals.
One day while seated on a corner of the road,
I saw a big belly man approach my friends,
His intention not to give a helping hand,
But to offer their bodies to earn him money.
It is the cruel world we face every day,
Wishing the world will listen at us
Instead of condemning and persecuting.
Just because my mother died
I have no one to care for me
And just because my father died
there is no one to look after me
Just because my parents died
everyone thinks am a burden
Just because my mother died
i had to become a street child
And just because my father died
i have to fetch my own food
Just because my parents died
i have to live a life of scorn at the streets
Just because my mother died
i cant find a wife myself
And just my father died
i cant become a father myself
Just because my parents died
i live a poor street life
Just because my parents died
which was not my choice nor theirs
i lost my life
and i lost my hope
All these because my parents died.