Distrust Poems - Poems about Distrust

My glass heart is empty It’s been cracked and filled and cracked and filled. I know your eyes as I know mine to cry You beautiful, cracked thing. It’s been too many years to count and care Love and memories will carelessly fall from your hair. “I love you” I wish to say, as you say only to the people around...

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How can we have faith in Trump and the possibility of his new VP if he were to become President? This is really bothering us about fear and mistrust. It is becoming a pure case of politics between Democrats and Republicans and females and males. Trump has gotten away with a lot of things that he was not supposed to. He has become his own fan club...

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How can we have faith in Trump and the possibility of his new VP if he were to become President? This is really bothering us about fear and mistrust. It is becoming a pure case of politics between Democrats and Republicans and females and males. Trump has gotten away with a lot of things that he was not supposed to. He has become his own fan club...

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But only in my dreams Will I ever get to be That kid In my dreams you took that from me You took that from me But only in my dreams Will I ever get to be A smart young man As according to his plan You took that from me You took that from me But only in my...

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We had a deal And I cooperated with zeal; Thinking it was real. You gave me no dime, Yet you stole my precious time; This I read like a rhyme Or even if you paid me, That was little, very little; I could not with it fill my tea kettle. I gave you trust and loyalty But you gave me distrust and disloyalty; My commitment you...

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In every apple, an atom resides; in every Adam, an apple abides. So it goes and goes, apples toppling off tables in rhythmic waves, falling through slits, convincing themselves they are particles instead. Whether in a pie or the depths of your eye, it remains a life enlaced with apples. Even saws wield charmed abilities to...

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Silence so dense it can be felt. Shatter! Sudden devastation Sprawled across a cement floor. Sound reverberating seemingly forever. Serene peace severed by Selfish intention. That's how it feels. Chanté Walker January 18, 2024...

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Sometimes They stand out Across her arms. Thin white lines along the skin. Left by the broken version Of the girl you see now. On those days, She worries they'll see The truth behind her past. How she broke Beneath every crumble; See her strength is a lie. She'll stare at the scars And wonder What made her do it? Ask herself if it was worth it. Scars...

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When will I learn not to trust anybody and not change my kindness too quickly? Will I turn my cheek to the one who's in urgent need, who trembles and who is weak? Hunger makes all plead! Help me, God... being cruel is hard, being kind is easy; help me, God... the beggar stretches his hand, he asks for food and mercy! When will we put...

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It is a secret You’re afraid to reveal Too much of your heart You’re afraid, so you conceal The real you, the real truth The hues of hope and faith The sweetness of such grace It is a worry You’re too aware of A darkness that hurries To dim your sparkle, to dissuade Your kindness, your blazing Spirit, your warmth and sincerity The feelings that make you believe In...

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When I am alone with you- I am trapped in the cycle of being tricked and betrayed. When I am surrounded by others- I am trapped in the cycle of fighting back, numbly. My only strength right now- Is distrust....

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Therapy is the only way forward. Therapy that I am afraid will corrupt my mind. Because I am on a glorious path to my fate. And before my fate comes, I must be whole. Therapy will cause my scars to crack- And break me into pieces....

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There is a horrible hollow ache inside me, That murky feeling of being loved , That love which keeps a section apart ; Fills the void with sadness and betrayal. That feeling captured & wrapped around with distrust & dishonesty , My eyes brimmed with tears of disbelief , A society with patriarchy and misogyny ; Are so selfish & yet so...

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...The trials of long centuries are a form of Darwin, you see, beating good ideas into shape, until they serve society. One mere idea one person has, is rarely ever up to the task, what works is what ideas survive, that’s not something you can learn fast. Does this mean we throw out the new, and discourage all who explore? Or course not, that one...

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There seems to be a trend these days, an obsession with novelty, and like most bad things of this age it is traced back to the sixties, at least the latest form of it, for in truth, it’s always plagued us, I’m talking about those who jump on the newest and latest cause. It’s really kind of a fetish, this whole-hog embrace of the...

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