Buries Poems - Poems about Buries

... coffee from stale flask itchy armpits no shower |||||| soap waits ......

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...BLACKLAND PRAIRIE From Red River down to San Antone, The Blackland Prairie’s all but gone— Scoured clean by progress, tilled and torn, By “civilized” greed, excess born, A plundered la......

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...From pitch black to being the pitch in battle From self-destruction to self-love A touch of faith yesterday planted the seed He heard my cry from the heavens above Today feels better because ......

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...The wealth of nations was once rooted In toil, in grain, in honest trade. But now—behold the phantom coin, A paper god by empire made. No longer tethered to gold or grace, It floats on faith, ......

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...A child with eyes like stars, so far away, she wonders, loud. She fears, ‘How can she be.’ Afar her thoughts, they’re deep; a shroud. Buries her head in mother’s lap. Her mother dreams in this......

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...He says, "No soul will hear my cry.. No hand will catch the tears I dry." He says he shines, he says he gives.. But in his chest, no kindness lives. He paints with smiles, a brittle hue.. ......

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...Whenever she steps out-Hundred creepy eyes, staring -hovering side to side, she neglects, nowhere she can hide. what can she do? gropers make an excuse, she's open to the same stories of abuse. ......

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...There will never be A story told That does not measure Hope so old As in this tree With shading bow As here I sit In writing now For in this ancient Solid form That buries deep Under th......

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...Love and sorrow walk as one, A bond unbroken, never undone. For every kiss, a tear will fall, A whispered ache, a lover’s call. The heart that loves must bear the weight, Of joy entwined with s......

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...Have you ever been high on anxiety? A sensation which crushes your very will and buries you six feet underground, or so it leaves you wishing, from sentences, not of death, but of immob......

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... I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. ~ Anne Lamott In the still of a quiet morning, as the......

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...A mountain tarn, a deep-water eye, high and blackly gleaming. A scramble down slippery scree to look within, then a tingling apprehension of being too close to an unbalanced footing, one th......

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...Time, that silent betrayer of dreams unraveling at dawn, Like an unseen knife cutting deep into the flesh of lost memories, Speaks to you without words, a master of crimes hidden in shadow, Raises......

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...I am kind and understanding I have survived her’s father I have survived the Connection But I am nothing without my daughter Her link has been broken But fear of death is my drive I will not ha......

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...A cloud clog of the city that keeps cars at bay waiting fir the car in the front to speed fast just to meet you at the light the loop sends thoughts of madness that lurks through the Dan Ryan o......

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