Dignity Poems

No Shame On Me

It's an old story
I'm sorry to say
Why can't we ever learn from others mistakes?
No, we have to go all in, get down in the dirt, roll up in that sorrow and covered in hurt
The best I can hope for now
Is a clean break, just let me go
For heaven's sake

Haven't you done enough to me? You've

never lose your pride

everyone sometime in their life
 may need a helping hand
if you fall from carrying a load
someone to help them stand
no matter if your a boy or a girl
or if your big or small,
never be too big then you are 
to ask for help at all,
if you feel down and feel real sad
no matter what it

ALREADY GONE

We did not notice at first—
the small rebellions of memory:
a forgotten kettle on the stove,
the absurd claim that Tuesday had vanished,
names reshuffled as if in a deck too often played.

The mind does not fall—it recedes,
a shoreline eroded not by storms
but by silent, persistent tides.
Each day an abrasive grain,
each night a hush over once-luminous thought.

She remained

Won't Take That

She gave her word and I just believed,
was the best thing that happened to me,
but, before long, on camera I see
her sneaking with a man who lives up the street.

Probed her for truth, but, oh, she just lie,
never had a hint of guilt in her eyes,
how can someone feel that justified,
even showed her the tape,

Beyond the Paper Gate

Now you stand at the threshold of shadowed trials—
a challenge cloaked in whispers of what may come.
Debts awaken, ancient scribes of your past,
etching secrets into the walls where you once stood.

More debts rise to start anew,
in lands where shadows whisper and command—
money prowls with hungry eyes,
blind to your status, deaf to the paper gate’s cries.

Unyielding,

A Seat Taken, A Spirit Kept

O classroom once alive with gentle voices,
Where morning greetings bloomed so bright and clear,
I leave you now—stripped of certain choices,
Unheard, unseen, dismissed through quiet fear.

The silence came—a shadow down the hall,
Erasing names without a single word.
No answer rose to break the rising wall,
No hand reached out, no empathy was stirred.

The leader’s crown slipped heavy from

A Final Word

I left because my body broke,
And weighed with grief, my spirit spoke.
I told you oft, I made things clear,
Yet pressure came—not care, but fear.

No shame I bear for what I owe,
I acted true, as you well know.
The key I left, the money too—
What’s lost beyond, I never knew.

I paused before I took my leave,
Awaiting peace

I Was Born To Hang

he’s got a face like a rotted pear,
eyes yellow as the bottom of a cheap pint glass.
his hands move like old leather belts—
cracked, heavy, well-worn.
he counts the minutes like coins
dropped in a greasy pocket—
clinks them together—
a smile as sour as sweat on a Monday morning.
he watches me,
one boot on the scaffold’s edge,
smoke curling from his

Rubicon Crossing

                                           Rubicon Crossing

          

Where Is Human Dignity?

Where is human dignity?

Where is the border? Lamb white cloaks??!
Humans. Women and men. Personal respect
Humans with souls and personal living space

This is a natural sphere. This not psychology
The personal living place and sphere of Life
Comes from the Creation. Parts of humans 

Lamb white cloaks
Lamb white cloaks
False science owners
Guilties, sinners!
Lambs with wolf souls!
Why? Why? Answer!
Why do

the end of dignity

it is a nightmare and a terrible place
      a confrontation, a quick draw, frightful conclusion
glass: empty of illusion
a pagan deity whose hard eyes shall drink you in
and spit
and run over you
like an obnoxious lorry
or through you
as a plough
at this abandoned carnival marooned in the undesirable
    wilds and

No More Dignity

I want...
Well-
It's just-
like...
Oh, give me some decency.
Don't tell me to tell you what I want when you won't even tell me how you feel.
Don't expect me to do all of the lifting, it is both of our responsibilities.
Don't let this fall on me, to tell you what I think when you won't even tell me

Courtisane in floral silk kimono

she wears it graceful and demure
parades in sophistication and elegance
her stance dignified and refined
her kimono feminine and stylish
she’s from nobility and opulence
regal and yet modest



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Dignity Of An Elder Dog

Master, my eyes now have cataracts,
my bones ache and stiffen when I rise,
I cannot chase squirrels like I used to,
nor fetch a tennis ball the way I did
as a pup,
but I love living with my family,
and the gentle pats on my head.

Though the long walks have shortened,
and there's gray fur on my muzzle,
I enjoy napping

Old Glory

She stands proud,
On mountain trail,
All tattered and torn.

Her stars holding fast
To the cloth she wears.
The Fifty stars she bears

Her strips bleeding                         
The pain of summer’s end.
She must transcend.

She’s graced these snow-crowned

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