Each And Every Poems - Poems about Each And Every

Humanity is sick. Humanity is fragile. We come into the world being taught the opposite of these fundamental truths. We are taught that everyone is equal, that everyone deserves a chance. But the world teaches us differently. It doesn’t care who you are— only what you’re worth, only what you can give before you are broken. But the truth is sharper— there are no guarantees, only chances taken and chances lost. What good were our...

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oh lord every break of dawn i shall see the sunrise in her jasmine green eyes and all the light have not gone through her sweet smile lord restoreth me again every break of dawn...

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Diving deep in the pond of the sub-consciousness I die every night, you die every night too This is our way of rejuvenating the body This may sound crazy, eerily or even spooky, However, this is absolutely or definitely true Our body makes a special trip to correct the mess Which takes place from a certain time to the other We die...

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Covered by cloud the out-of-sight tops of soaring towers, Buckling under their own weight, beginning to topple from Those airy heights; The gaping breach - the once impregnable outer wall! The inner keep ablaze with greedy, insatiable flame; A thunderous cacophony of crashing cymbals and blaring Horns; Wide-eyed lurching panic desperately grasping at the fleeting Moment... And the whole...

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Oh my dear guy, ...

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She is every woman, Bringing love to her man, She shares erotica, Ever so wundebar, She is wife to all men, Loving chick in his zen, She can birth, she can bleed, Cook, nurse, love indeed, She has the ear of God, Ere power walk over sod, She is every woman, Hope you wave that fan!...

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Your eyes? They're like midnight — not stars, just... midnight. Dark, full of something I can't name. I get lost there. I always do. It’s frustrating, kind of thrilling too. Your smile? Trouble. The kind I’d trip over twice and still chase. It hangs in the air after you leave — Like perfume or a half-finished thought. I hate how much I replay it. Your...

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Every morning I open my soul like an old book, where verses stretch wings of light over sleeping dreams, poetry is a spell that turns my thoughts into golden butterflies, dancing through air laden with mysteries and hidden desires. I feel words flowing through my veins like a river of stars, illuminating the forgotten realms of my heart in secret, and...

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Life is short but long enough to make plans and make some dreams come true Life is kind and generous it offers time for second chances and even a string of redos Life is short but in the end you'll be liable for what you've done but equally for what you didn't do Use your time wisely ~ AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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Must every second always count eyes focused on the prize Must purpose color our every act ‘til every vista’s funereal black ...

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every day has potential to be a disappointment or a celebration I surround myself with people who know how to celebrate cautiously avoiding those who resolve to always be disappointed...

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The space right beside me is empty And my wish is for you to be there Desire for you I've aplenty, Plus there's plenty of room in my chair We could talk about things and do puzzles Our legs entwined reading a book In a blinding snowstorm we can cuddle I'll feel my way, no need to look...

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Toward you I move, with every step lost in the wind that sings stories, When I say I'm coming home, I'm actually moving toward you, though I scatter along the way, The warmth of returning envelops me like a cloak woven from memories of longing, And the milestones of the roads press like long shadows stretching over ancient...

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May we be blessed… especially in this time of political upheaval and strife To give every day, as Mark Twain suggested, A chance to become the most beautiful day in our life. ...

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every second is a choice I could draw a cartoon play with my dogs clean the refrigerator every minute is a choice I could paint a canvas write thirty-two poems vacuum the house every day is a choice I could meet my friends read other people’s poems wash the dishes cleaning the refrigerator vacuuming the house and washing the dishes are out I could read other people’s poems though...

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