Hope Pain Poems - Poems about Hope Pain

In the stillness of the night, A fire will slowly ignite, A fire to change her fate, A fire to remove anger and hate. Beyond the edge of reason, A world will change this season, A change of state, A change you can’t underestimate. Through the eyes of a child, Her world will stop running wild. This is the end of her wait, Something she’ll forever...

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In the hospital, the room so still A feeling of melancholy, my heart will feel the music of a story, told by the nurse who hears the whisper, a quiet curse warm tears bleed across the pages magazine leaves, in the early stages coloring the twilight in yesterday’s prayers the diagnosis, distant as a dream, repairs colored in grace, the stories, the pages silent...

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Life's got me in a chokehold, but it's not the same asphyxiation that I crave. I loathe when pouring my heart out is seen as "very brave" When it's not bravery that compells me, But hope. Hope for a better future for those who relate And some kind of catharsis for my pain. It does not take bravery to tell a...

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I lay awake at night, dreaming of my future. In the black void, my destiny flickers faint, A fragile ember fighting the pull of silence. I fracture my pain into shards, Each a memory too sharp to hold, Yet too bright to ignore. The sparks ignite lightning through my chest, Burning a path I cannot escape. I lay awake at night, dreaming of...

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Those chairmen are in the tower of babel again Painting and repainting the future of our land with crooked hands Laughing at things as the world pass us by. Those chairmen are in the tower of babel again Writing us messages that have no bloodline. Although black oil runs in our veins like water of vegetation There...

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Dust motes dance, and sunlight spills Through dusty windows of my intellectual lair The aged paper scent, comfort and snare Surrounded by knowledge, a thirst I can't share SPARK! A question burns, pushes past the dark I dive deep, wide, into oceans of knowing A treasure hunt, secrets growing Mountains of data, endlessly flowing Sifting, unearthing, piecing together Connecting dots, puzzle incomplete Every clue -...

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You Promised Me Vs.1) Up again, in the night ...

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Stitches A wound, deep and wide. Gaping, Ragged, Bleeding... Cover with the cloth of False Smiles. Cover with the cobweb gauze of Empty Sympathy. Clamp it shut with fingers of Chemical Laughter. Hold it together with shaky hands of Liquid pain relief. A wound, deep and wide ... Remains. A wound,deep and...

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Out of the crack, a life did rise, A fragile bloom beneath the skies. No gentle rain, no nurturing hand, Just broken stones, a barren land. But still, it fought, it clawed its way, Toward the sun, it longed for day. A tiny shoot, a will to grow, A heart that hope would never forgo. Like fragile souls,...

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Sometimes I feel the devil rising ...

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This pain is like a saber toothed tiger, it ravishes, unrelenting, through bone. These aches, spasms, intermittent rigor, beckon my heart to but retreat, alone. This tire, that does not replenish with rest, but rather spits and mocks me to my core. This pain, a parasite, unwanted guest, consumed, l lie wrapped fetal on the floor. Despite this illness, that naught can resolve, I...

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When you were in the hospital, dear My heart was filled with a dreadful fear. I begged God to spare your pretty life And went home with worry for my wife. The strain on both my body and mind Was so great that no sleep did I find. I prayed by your bedside and by mine That God would heal and all...

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In mania, the body unbinds itself. The skeleton’s dense marrow becomes hollow, an avian adjustment. It is accelerated evolution. Fluttering and floating in a slew of thoughts like nervous wind chime chatter. My brother blew in through the rattling gate accompanied by October’s cruelest gale. Eyes unwillingly wide, levered by a crowbar his hazel doorways ripped from their hinges. He ran fervently through the...

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Conjuring and challenging my silly, puny solitude… Enduring and foliage of squalid grief…left me in the nude of the wintertime Sometimes, I wander…I wonder…I ponder so good I am naughty this wintertime, up to no good…misunderstood all the time Not to intrude…not to be rude — I just need the attitude of gratitude Colliding like a snowstorm of shooting...

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Is it the arrow while in its flight? That determines what is in its sight? More likely the archer, with steady aim. Shot not to kill, but to hurt and to maim. At last, he’ll release his final revenge. It’s not his choice, the flight to abate, The target chosen as if by fate. The arrow its damage, it will do. The deed...

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