Duress Poems - Poems about Duress

My Own Undoing Coursing through an unknown milky way ???. Well, that's my fate. Were we not born to succeed? This and many more should be answered, blatantly, if not unequivocally. I am me, and you, should be you. How far do we go to establish a point of un-duress? We should be cunning, as well as...

Continue reading...

Theres all so much and so less in me.. My eyes and my heart are but reckless youth Shouldnt you wonder for a moment before burdening it so Quite a lot of you Weighs my dear heart, down like an anchor Shame that it Seldom grounds What that is about you The pondering is long and listless The something that gnaws at my heart...

Continue reading...

was under duress never approved of her dress had been a big mess...

Continue reading...

I stay up all night and away I fly, To the field in which to me, you convoked your goodbye. I’m standing in a flowing white dress, My ankles deep in rose-colored duress, And I stumble without you to catch me. And I never stop falling. But sometimes there’s a falter in the way that I feel, And for a moment everything...

Continue reading...

How can people in war ravished countries Ever think about anything else Can any one of these tortured souls Ever sit down and write poetry And if they can, could they ever write about happiness Would their poems only be about killing and destruction Or could their humble spirits rise above the turmoil And write about a different, happier world It is something...

Continue reading...

DRESS FOR DREADFUL DURESS The lady’s largesse did not this gent impress Nor did the dress she donned with damnable disgrace A woman whose embrace embodies deception’s face While her grievous grace invades an otherwise sanctified space With speciousness as a specialty to which she is inclined A figure defined by the divine and the unceremoniously unkind Beauty that makes a...

Continue reading...

Living in the shire; Searching for that ring; You may have found a lot of things; But you never kept a thing. You hid behind a bush; While purpose you compiled; Disguised yourself as innocent; But the dung you left was vile. And...

Continue reading...