Best Worthless Poems
When we first met, I was
caring
sharing
loving
to you
After awhile together, you were
abusing
bruising
confusing
to me
Now that I'm alone, I am
groveling
cowering
cringing
to everyone
Blows that bruise the face
can heal without a trace
But words keep their ugly embrace
that time can never erase
Feeling worthless is a place
that takes real strength to ever out race.
Greedy rich hogs a plenty about
guess the fat little toads have figured it out,
in the money trough fore to dip a snout,
moral corruption and lies,
will the Lord perchance sympathise,
born next time Nigeria no doubt,
to be trained as a scammer,
the lout....
the worthless gets pain no surprise:)
Don
you can make dollars till the grave,
a fancy funeral 4 you babe,
but what happens when ya dies,
upon the eternal judgement side,
where you get cursed or blest,
decide:)
be or not a pest,
while alive,
karmas sow n reap the test,
applied...
In the world wide and broad
Aborigine, distort and deform
Out of hatred and disgust
We kill each of us!
Humanity dies by the hands of human
Brutality become familiar member
Kindness and emotions broke up with chamber
All seems dull and dead
No life left, maybe it’s the end.
I’m broken inside and can’t feel.
The damage is done, I can barely breathe.
Ripped apart and torn to pieces,
My once strong heart is now deceased.
I keep recalling the messages in my head,
Making me wish that I was dead.
So much of anger, so filled with hate.
I must be the reason for our love to dissipate.
I never wanted it to end this way,
theres so much more i needed to say.
but i guess he just had enough of me,
even after apologising immensly.
So here I am alive, yet dead inside.
All I know, my best, I have tried.
Left feeling completely worthless.
Falling apart and still nobody notices....
The faded shacks stretch 'neath the stained grey sky,
As stagnant urine and disease creep in.
Hunched at the pyramid's tight base we lie;
Looked down upon by our superiors.
In this poor life we’ve been condemned to die;
Forever stuck in our unwanted caste!
Our tummies are filled with what can’t be sold,
Our hopes and dreams just playful fantasies.
Drained from its soothing warmth, the Earth feels cold.
Where, I ask you are the democracies
That stop worthless things like me getting sold?
We’re all just pawns, broken by society.
Unlike the wealthy, we’re easy to find;
We are the untouchables of mankind.
4/3/2015
A cuddly toy Mr Edward Bear
a boy's comfort joy and fresh air,
lost his ear one stormy night
the dog jumped in to bed in fright,
the button on his neck gone where?
@ Harry J Horsman 2013
Ha! Worthless you say I am,
but I still remain calm.
You tweet and facebook
friends you hook
up with, telling them I dress
as though I am lost in a fashion time-lapse,
dressing in sixties’, seventies’ and eighties’
in a ‘‘more dynamic” world.
On your part,
you have made fashion to be your religion,
making your pockets empty, and your mind
full of fashion concoction and disillusionment……
So many words left unsaid,
imprisoned deep inside my head.
Do you know what your abuse did?
Snatched the joy from your kids
tampering with their future lives,
slicing their hearts with verbal knives.
Leaving wounded souls
and hearts with holes.
No child deserves so much pain
causing their joy to drain
from their eyes in the form of tears
because you instilled so many fears.
They feared your evil stares,
your nostril flares,
your verbal assault,
and your fatherhood default.
I’m the only parent who is there
and for them I will always care.
You’re a sorry excuse for a dad,
I’m the only loving parent they’ve had.
You’re always angry, bitter, and pissed,
you act as if your children don’t exist.
Our oldest son battles demons in his head,
because of you; to him, you are dead.
So many times he’s talked to me in tears
asking me why you hate him but love your beers.
Just remember when you’re old and lonely
you’ll long for your children, if only
you had treated them with love and care,
you’d be certain they’d always be there
to love you and care for you,
but you didn’t and they’ll remember too.
Know your value, Know your Cost,
Aspire Yourself, Don’t get Lost,
Explore some new, never Quit,
It don’t matter, what was your Past,
You are alive, with all at Best,
Don’t sit free, don’t get Rest,
Always be happy, Always be Potent,
Enjoy Your life with all its Zest,
So what if happen to fail, why you’re Care less,
Don’t ever be think You’re Worth less,
Forever think positive, never Comedown,
Boost Up Yourself for Future, Life is a Chess,
Today If You make effort, Tomorrow will be Your,
Gentleman Life is bitter, the same as So Sour,
Strive for Aim, Not for Fame,
Thrive for best, Made Your Life Pure! !
M. Shahid H. Chouhdry
Bahawalpur, Pakistan
All Rights Reserved.
shahid817@gmail.com
I am not ready to die mediocre
I bargained my soul with the devil
to roll the dice of life again in October
they said my heart must be tainted by evil.
the bar raised low, to fake a smile on my face
to liberate myself from the pain and to sing along
to follow the god who barely cares to show his grace
believed in fate for long floating in the cloud 9s, so long.
Tired of the chorus it is hard to focus in all this hocus pocus
I have had it running on the side walks for 27 years in solitude
aggression in expression among my rhymes venting in tiny doses
8 miles of my worthless writings is an add-on to my egoistic attitude.
Worthless.
That's what I thought of myself.
The things that you did to me,
But I'm the one saying sorry.
The other day, mom asked me to press charges.
I said no.
Not for you.
Not for me.
You've had charges pressed before.
Your own sister.
The court did nothing.
She was 6 and you admitted to doing it for years.
I guess you had a type.
You assaulted my cousin, and you assaulted me.
When people ask if we're cousins, I have a knot in my throat.
Because yes, we're technically cousins but not after what you did to me.
What you did to us.
For years I've lived in denial.
The truth just recently broke out.
I have my first therapy session tomorrow.
I haven't gone for years, because if I meant nothing to you...
Why would I mean anything to anyone else too.
I have hated myself.
I have struck myself down for not speaking up earlier.
Because maybe if I did say something, you wouldn't have done what you did to me, to her.
Paint me Saintly, my actions lately
Have shown such cause a'plenty
My Quarters stately, my Morals greatly
Unfazed by thoughts of many
Still in search of the Peace I've wanted-
Looking, tracking; intent to find!
But by my former self I am haunted,
Lurking not more than two feet behind...
Pennies are made of worthless copper that even a hungry beggar
refuses to pick up; either I threw them away or kept them in a piggy jar,
but the day came when need and desperation made me rethink
of their worth...a thousands of them could had gotten me far;
A rich person collects not as a poor one who is always on the brink...
has someone looked for them when rough times kept them from that bazaar?
Pennies are made of worthless copper that nobody wants to own,
unless they are, at least, fifty years old...what would President Lincoln,
think of our antipathy for his imprinted image on these little coins?
Do you possess many of these? Save them for those rainy days!
Pennies are made of worthless copper, everybody seems repined,
humiliated and embarrassed to carry them in their purse, or pocket...
look around: they are found everywhere on a sidewalk, or in a parking lot;
make all aware they are convenient to have for easiness of mind!
It was the best cherry-cola that I ever had.
It’s the aftertaste now that’s incredibly bad.
It was 1953, at the corner Five and Dime.
I still think it might have been some sort of crime.
I had saved enough money from mowing some yards,
to buy one more pack of Topps Baseball Cards.
As I peeled back the wrapper, anticipation grew,
hoping to find an all-star, maybe two.
But, treasure doesn’t always appear like one thinks.
“Nothing” I yelled out, “This totally stinks.”
Some rookie named Mantle was all that I found.
“Fat chance of him ever sticking around.”
My buddy there with me was a big Yankees fan,
a sucker, I thought, for my ingenious plan.
With considerable effort, I convinced him to swap,
my “worthless” card for his “priceless” pop.
The bottle’s still worth a nickel at the store,
The “Mick”? I’d guess, just a little bit more.
It sits on my shelf, like a trophy I earned,
A reminder to me of a lesson once learned.
Note: The 1952 Rookie Mickey Mantle card has been
valued at over $50,000 by some price guides. – Wow!
I have lots of old baseball cards I collected as a kid, but
not this one. I wrote this as I watched an old-timer tell
a shop-owner about one that “got-away.”
Life in lockdown
Being stuck at home
With depression and anxiety,
Is like being locked in a room
With 'you' your own worst enemy.
Trying to fight through
That every day life,
But also forever wishing
You never survived.
Now that fight
Has to go on,
But inside your head
It's like an exploded bomb.
All that pain
You wanted to ease,
And all those people
You wanted to please.
Now is the time
For you to forget,
Make all those memories
And big goals to set.