Herself Poems - Poems about Herself

MY VIETNAM VETERAN HUSBAND AND I RETURNED HOME TO A HORROR INTRUDERS PICKING OUR LOCKS RIPPING PAGES AGAIN AN ONGOING 23 YEAR HEIST FIR DOCUMENTS MILITARY IMMUNIZATION RECORDS OF MY KIDS THE DAYS I WORE WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI I WOUKD OFTEN TAKE THE KIDS TO GET SHOTS BEING IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF...

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She had a heart As cold as ice She had battles with everyone That came into her life She would say a nice word Every now and then But afterwards she Would be ripping of your head Hard to please Hard to talk to She didn't have friends Enemies quite a few We often thought If she hated us By the way she went If we made a...

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He wanted her, and she wanted him too, But longing alone could never pull them through. He saw only the fire that burned in his chest, Never the storm that raged in her unrest. She needed safety, a harbor, a home, But with him, she felt stranded—adrift and alone. She searched for love in the space where he stood, Yet all she...

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Her attempts at writing were unfruitful. Stark white page sneered and called her mean names. Loser, stupid, dummy, idiot…. She stared at the page. Writing was not a big deal. Lots of people did it. The thin blue lines stuck out their tongues at her. Maybe tomorrow she told herself. Her muse gave her the finger....

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She was hated on By many people Who didn't understand where she was coming from She got called stupid due to the way she talks Nobody would give her a chance To show she was much more than the way she sounds People would laugh at her Make mean jokes about her And straight-up bully her This made her feel super weak It made her...

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Marta decided to garden herself happy It was the thing she used to love to do with her grandparents, Big Pappy and her grandmother, Nora Sue. They had spent many hours planting their seeds Hoeing, tilling, raking, and getting rid of weeds their bounty came in July, and sometimes in June They were still working, singing a communal tune. Big pappy would whistle,...

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she left a heart shaped balloon so he would know the suitcases were from her and walked away proud glad that she had made the decision to choose herself first for a change...

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The old wood framed home stood stark and abandoned, a shell of herself, where now new homes were standing.. Rotted roped windows wept with the rains and rattled and trembled with each passing train.. The once solid foundation now unmoored by silt causing the aged house to lean, a precarious tilt.. Yet inside her ancient bones still chiseled and grand with...

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Boom decorates herself as if she were a Christmas decoration What kind? I asked, sugar cookies, divinity or another confection? More like a tree, her hair is full of bulbs, all silver and such. I think I would like to meet her I tell him, I mean very much. You would! He says, for I am dressed as Santa’s...

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Shattered resilience In shards of shattered glass, her reflection lies,Splintered and fractured, betrayed by her eyes.Each piece a story of heartache and pain,A portrait of loss, a soul that's stained.The broken glass reveals her inner fight,A girl who's been hurt, who's lost in the night.Fractured and fragile, yet still standing tall,Her spirit unbroken, refusing to fall.Each...

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whate and shark both wanted her love she saved herself for her feelings were not the same they eventually moved on there is no merman, other mermaids chastised her she hoped they were wrong prayed for a merman other mermaids married sharks and whales and moved on handsome kind merman arrived at the right time he was gallant and brave, best of all, he had...

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The woman who encompasses herself in her entire being, When a woman possesses herself, you can enter or leave her world, With sweet praise or harsh judgments to fill her day, And she, regal and serene, will extend or withdraw a hand to you, She will thank you and understand your darkness, for she has long known her own. It...

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Boom decorates herself as if she were a Christmas decoration What kind? I asked, sugar cookies, divinity or another confection? More like a tree, her hair is full of bulbs, all silver and such. I think I would like to meet her I tell him, I mean very much. You would! He says, for I am dressed as Santa’s...

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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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she wants to make herself heard but the busy sun has walked his estate tending to matters, some urgent, some free a new dawn, she sings again to remind this bird, her song is sung for all ...

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