Ill Poems - Poems about Ill

That which is ill-begot will love you not, but pull the strings of a heavy heart....

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As I heard a sad story of a woman named Elysée, I am standing to tell the entire world about it. The woman who knows her value. As some mercenaries called M23 entered her house around a day and foced her to lay on the ground while looking at the sky. She listened to them and...

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enough! i'm calling your bluff all of us can see so true, yet so hidden from you and these stupid conclusions you cannot make them filled with confusions are you under some illusion? look! you're bruised, this isn't delusion do you really want to turn us to dust? allow our sweet rays to rust? oh.. now i choke on distrust and this new found lust say you...

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27/7/2024. Close to the 45th anniversary. Still no idea where to go. Should I leave it to fate? The more I know you, The bigger the gaps in every aspect. Just like every body, You could not keep your promises. Well, I hate surprises, What you did was as predicted. In a way, it was OK, But, somehow, I did not like any bit...

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They never want to ask what's up Never want to know where I'm coming from I'm like a bug left in the dust While people and their voice towers over me And I have no power They can't see what's its like to be me Truly So quick to yell So quick to discipline me The truth is I want to prove to you...

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Like a ghost ship idly mooring Cleaning your own mess is totally boring Sorting other people’s stuff is fun however Why don’t we switch houses in cold weather? I’ll sort yours and, you sort mine. We might both have a really fun sorting time. How difficult could this trade of services be? I just have to find someone as messy as me....

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Jill just can’t sit for one minute still; In everything she wants some thrill! One rainy evening she climbs a hill; From there she slips making a shrill! This results her fall straight into a rill; She swallows water a gallon at her will! As her belly swells, she falls critically ill; The quack there tries on her every pill! It costs...

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The Ill-fated after the bombing  dead children everywhere like an exploding dollmaker's factory Tomato sauce and noodles  a parade of the inhuman Presidents are helpless their country is helpless while they slept all power lost A chorus arises, and songs  drown in thunder  We are the masters we were the chosen Cumulus clouds will ask we see and hear doomed humanity Shivering, we wait for the last bomb to drop  ...

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start out sedated when it had been ill fated eradicated...

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Beneath the everyday attire, the spirit falls ill, dormant, In the monotony that seems an eternity of silver smoke, contingent. Boredom weaves its fabric between walls of flesh, walking dead, Many beings live this pseudo-existence, in slumbering cages. They slowly make their way to offices, in convoys of rusty machines, Immersed in the deep sea, where words become unwritten stones. They...

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As I fall into the buzzing altar of heavy metal shifting sand, maw, swirling sheets, illness drools plus plus halcyon? drawn too many wrinkles obfuscating drooling sticky long second lunch fool the maelstrom of too deep damned pools of return. Mis-grand invitational, undirectional grab of gravitational...

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Life in hospital wards, with blue drapes, white washed floors, grey assets, wheeled tables. Corn-beef hash, carrot mash, day-pay TV cables. Life in hospital wards, spiked fevers, cooling aids, pee cups, samples of stool. Loose laced gowns, ECGs, stagnant air, stubborn drool. Life in hospital wards, monitoring alarms, timely medical rounds. A poke, a prod, a look, constant buzzers and sounds. Life in hospital wards, all day bed, in shared bays. No...

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Cancer, the big 'C', Do you think you mean anything to me? My Uncle has got you, You've taken my beautiful daughter too. But while I am able I will continue to fight, And I will fight you with every bit of my might. Slowly we are finding new ways, To get rid of you and we will make sure you finally...

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I fell ill against my will And swallowed many a glass infused pill To satiate my mundane brain Feeling the wrath of the rain on the planes It drove me mad, more than a little insane. But it's ok, not that I ever was, I begged and pleaded to be wiped out with a Torrential flood Yet the oceans ran dry at the...

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WHEN AND WHERE IS HATRED BORN CERTAINLY NOT IN THE WOMB IN LIFE AMASSED AND FOREVER CAST TILL IT DIES ONCE IN THE TOMB...

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