Best Unfulfillment Poems
Words are not enough,
Alphabets strung in uncertainty,
Speech slurred in disbelief,
Love endlessly professed,
Lacking in action or substance,
Intentions of the heart,
Inexpressible by vocabulary,
Pledges frustrated by timelines,
Lofty dreams built with bricks of vapour,
Visions written on sand,
Children of promise orphaned by unfulfillment,
In foster care of compromise,
Doubt takes up tenancy,
Sin, its landlord.
Grace grants clemency,
Faith offers a new lease,
Adopted by rectitude,
Shut doors avert imminent destruction,
Redirecting the path to destiny,
Visions conceptualized begin to materialize,
Pipe dreams turn reality,
Old debts reconciled,
The hearts intent,
Superseded by divine counsel,
Love endures its rule,
Substantiated by fidelity,
After all said and undone,
Words alone are not enough.
Snapchat
Blue Dot
Message from you
Heart beats fast
Anticipation
What are you contacting me after so long
The moment you've waited for
Now you dread, why are you waiting
Open it
I miss you
I love you
It should be us
You should be here with me
We'd be having a hell of a time
I'm making myself busy finding other passions because you are not here
I'd be making love
I'd feel safe
I long for your touch
I want to bury my head in your chest and smell you
Only unfulfillment here
You've been waiting for this
Months for this
Pour your heart out
tell her all the lovely thoughts
regarding her
tell her what you need her to hear the most
I love you too
Typed and typed
heart and soul exploded into
digital text
then
waited
weeks
now months
But........
The blue dot never came
you claim I'm over emotional
when my heart is in distress
telling me I'm irrational
adds to my pain and stress
I should find comfort
in your arms
not amplified hurt
and added harms
you try to change my identity
and completely renovate my core
pushing your masculinity
on a soul it wasn't meant for
I am a feminine creature
sensual and passionate
softness is my best feature
I'm sensitive and compassionate
so tired of being deprived
of true love and acceptance
this unfulfillment derived
from your utter ignorance
cherish my femininity
we balance each other out
I cherish your masculinity
isn't that what love's about?
In the long shadows of the evening, when the light withdraws into a silent corner of the world,
I extend my hand toward the unknown, a white, cold, and empty hand,
A hand seeking to grasp the fragile meanings of existence,
Which become like violets, delicate, lost in the wind.
Oh, my eyes, your sparks have been extinguished in the darkness,
In the pale light of forgotten memories,
You open bare, without brilliance,
Wondering, what are the jasmines for, what sweet words can they still say?
Suns set over the cold silence of my heart,
Leaves rustle in the wind of memories, candles flicker out,
Harp strings move slowly, crystal dreams cracking,
Arms raised in despair, teeth clenched with lost desire.
The cries of the soul echo in the silence of the night,
And tears flow from veins that have known lost love,
I don’t know, I don’t know what purpose all these feelings serve,
I have burned my forehead on the pyre of unfulfillment, I have burned my innocence in the flames of betrayed hope.
The deepest intimacy, the highest hope,
Everything has turned to ash, my bread is ash, my yields are the wind,
I have burned my soil that once bore life, and I have burned my life-giving water,
And now, what remains for my weary soul?
Yes... these pages,
These empty pages await to weep silently before the universe,
In them, perhaps I could recount the story of my burnings,
In them, perhaps I will find the peace I seek in vain among the stars.
With heavy heart I take my leave of her.
My loves’ desperate screams pierce the still morn.
To war I go and must not look back for fear of faltering.
A duty to perform, a faceless enemy awaits.
Like a young herd of cattle comrades huddle together.
Seventeen and ashen faced their terror swells within.
In my hand a cherished picture firmly clasped.
There will be a time to let go, but it is not in this moment.
The dust and smoke erupts on landing.
My heart, racing so ferociously, might leap from my chest
My weapon of slaughter cocked menacingly
I run blind into this frenzy of hate.
The executed collapse around me
A steady tide of innocent blood saturates my leaden boots.
A searing pain rips through my wearied body
I surrender myself to the inevitable darkness.
My spirit is extinguished now
A crushing sense of unfulfillment envelopes me
My love awaits an impossible reunion
My fingers unfurl, memories to dust.
Am almost tempted to change the quote
"AS LIFE GETS EASIER, HAPPINESS GETS HARDER"
To
"As life gets easier, happiness gets easier...and vice versa"
But i cant
I won't
Am not supposed too
So i guess i have to view things differently here
Or maybe in a another perspective
I need to open the window and look beyond the cars, and the computers, and the frozen easy meals...
And examine the sadness and the pain
Of having life so easy
The long drives to work, the repetition, the boredom, the unfulfillment..
The hand and neck injuries from the technologies we love
The busy lives
The systems
The speedy life
It can be easy to be unhappy
Missing wind-up key
lethargic symphony
doll missing its dream
How do I break out
of this maddening nightmare
my unfulfillment
Branches in the road
which path leads to my passions
Fairy-tale Journey
Life's uncertainty
energy deficiency
path blocked before me
Where am I going?
fog encases around me
Possibilities
Manifestations
the apparitions discuss
the game of my fears
Fighting listlessness
penetrating light calling
to keep on going
I am the tears....the unbearable pain ;
I am the freak that is called insane...
I am anarchy....hopelessness...
I am the seat of all rotten mess !
I am the feeble dying breath...
O yeah,I am the ugly face of death !
I am fear, I am vice...
A bundle I am of loss & lies...
I am failure...I am despair....
I am unfulfillment...beyond repair;
I am the sourness...I am ****...
I am ignominy....this is it...!
I am the ashes...I am the ruins...
I am sorrow....yes,I am the sins !
I am the cloud of darkness menacing....
& yet they say I am the supreme being...!
I had wanted to be good
But was short lived by the inevitable
I had wanted to fulfil plans
But was engrossed with the joy of unfulfillment;
And was caught up with the deadly messenger.
I had wanted to be give you all your desires
Giving you hopes on unrealistic things
Might be that's the only way you could learn
But the fearless messenger didn't allow it.
I had wanted to change the world for good
Giving them the lies they deserve
To help then rethink
But this stupid fellow didn't allow me
Cos all I was doing were in charades.
Dragons, Monsters, Daemons, Ghosts.
OH ! to be the slayer of your world, of Dragons,
to be allowed, to be able to extinguish the fires,
the fires that light the way for the Monsters, the Daemons,
the Ghosts that haunt, who’s claws hold back all that could be.
Could this ethereal world I envision, be an illusion?,
A figment of my imagination?, a perception blinded by,
unfulfillment of a dream, a desire, a need for more?
Do these apparitions?, these mythical images?, legendary
phantoms of the mind come on wings of doubt?
Walking on clouds seems to be what I do.
Rays of Sunshine dissipate, melt away my path.
I am left floating on the winds of uncertainty.
Carried away on the wings of fear?, indifference?
B. J. “A” 2
November 13th 2006
If everyone were to disappear, but everything remained unchanged,
The world would be a vast cathedral of the echo of regret,
Where empty streets silently carry the ghosts of choices,
Those fragile threads that bound us in the dance of life.
The masters we chose—greed, apathy, comfort—
Would be shadow sculptures in the architecture of our absence,
And you, like a wandering specter, would be the invisible witness
To a landscape breathing our deeply ingrained indifference.
The sky, shrouded in flames of memories over lost cities,
Would burn not just with fire but with memory clinging to time,
Whispering in the merciless silence of the wind through abandoned homes,
The creaking of rusted gates becoming a chorus of unfulfillment.
The smoke from the chimney, once a symbol of warmth, now spits bitterness,
Dry leaves, like torn pages from forgotten stories, dance alone,
Scratching the earth with whispers sounding like a hidden confession,
Asking in every echo: where were you when it truly mattered?
What if this were the end, not with a cataclysm of fire,
But with a slow unraveling, a silent disappearance into the night,
Where humanity slips into the abyss, leaving the world empty,
And in that silence, you feel absence in the marrow of your being.
Would you feel contempt for the chosen masters in those fractured moments?
Or self-betrayal, a deep and constant pain,
For the soul you abandoned in the pursuit of desires?
In this end, there are no heroes, only the relentless truth,
Reflected in the lifeless eyes of the world left behind.
The most dreadful part is not the disappearance, but the drifting,
The watching, the knowing. It’s not just the world that’s empty—you are too,
And in the haunting silence of the place once called home,
You finally realize: absence is not just a void. It is a mirror.
"Fierce Review"
Hindsight reviews tells me so much of what I want to keep, change, or completely drop.
My fierce review of my marriage and how my best fell short giving Doug what he earned and deserved… A review only as a widow, not as a divorcee, or in the middle of a dying marriage.
This was my self-imposed solitary journey review… shameful... regret… sadness… which theme this time? Or all of them?
Leaving me open to harsh judgment, constant reminders, recriminations and unrelenting examples of my transgressions voiced aloud by others, outsiders looking in. Refusing to consider he had a role, any role for my deep disappointment and hurt. A state of unfulfillment, private between a man and woman, partners…
Roles I’d never articulate. Our private conversations, dynamics, roles, frustrations, etc., are private. I will not tarnish their opinions and views about Doug. In their eyes, he could do very little wrong.
Outsiders looking in aren't necessarily wrong. Doug was one of these rare individuals whose nurturing and nonjudgmental acceptance of people where they're at. He gave me that, and it was vital to my healing, sometimes at the expense of his happiness and fulfillment in our marriage. He knew I gave 100% of my capacity, and sadly and regretfully it fell short for him and his needs.
Time to figure out… was my review objective and valid? Or was it based on a lifetime pattern of pervasive guilt, assuming guilt for problems I don't own? In my heart, I know all are correct.
The path to healing begins with forgiveness, forgiving myself for being human. Giving 100% is all a person can do, even when it falls short.
Sherry Barton
February 22, 2025
In the palm of the universe, only the mad ones dare to tread,
Mad to live, to speak, to be saved from the relentless currents of time,
Craving everything at once, like a blazing sun at its zenith,
They never yawn, nor utter the mundane, but burn with the brilliance of fallen stars,
Like fabulous yellow roman candles bursting into webs among the stars,
Their light dances upon the walls of my soul, weaving dreams I can never touch,
While sandcastles rise in my wandering mind, without foundations to hold them.
Marble staircases and crystal chandeliers waltz in the echoes of forgotten dreams,
Through the labyrinth of unwritten memories, I roam, lost and searching,
Unaware of the source of this sweet poison that floods my senses,
Oh cruel universe, why do you show me only shadows of happiness?
Let me glimpse the light that dances, yet remains untouched by any hand,
In the merciless universe, why reveal mere shadows of joy,
When my prayer is an echo of unfulfillment, a melody without end,
That is lost in the infinity of the universe, untouched and unheard by anyone.
Compulsions to create governed by fear and perpetual query,
Where affirmations are fossil fuels, scarce and costly.
Approval? Qualified? I Dangle upside-down, tethered to a rope questions.
Hovering over a pit of acceptance with a bloated cranium.
A pause in their scroll…
The press of a gesture nibbles away the rejuvenating thread.
How can a dozen feel worse than none?
These little thumbs, those filled-in hearts, these perverted numbers.
The lack of something accumulates, forming a dam even beavers would envy.
Obstructing a river of creative juices that quench the thirst of unfulfillment.
To overcome, to not care. These two rarely coexist.
Perhaps shifting the care could break the levy.
Not what they think, but I, and what laser could separate the two?
The strategy brings hope to a mind battered by rejection.
That’s right, Destroyer of Motives! Disguiser of Truths!
I will get up and press that power button, double-click that software, and create.
Not for whoever they are, but for me.
So, blast the damns and let it flow!
Who knows, maybe they like it..
I’ve been given a gift
The ultimate gift
Correction
One of the ultimate gifts
A way to undo
A way to redo
A way to rewrite
A way to reject spite
A way to free myself
From suffocation
Mediocrity
Unfulfillment
Disillusionment
Fear
And it was simple
Far simpler than imagined
I found who was to blame
Who was the tormentor
But it was the same reflection
As the protector
It was always me
Me as my worst enemy
Me as my best friend
So the choice was made
The choice to undo the damage
To love
First and foremost
Myself