Internal Poems - Poems about Internal

internal music the best unwritten poems, the pure nature sounds the tranquility within one self-calm peaceably talk...

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No referee to be seen in blood-soaked arena. Both fierce gladiators; my heart versus my mind. I wait with suspended breath to see which colossus emerges victorious. ...

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I'm torn across axis yet to exist, Or had once been, since been replaced, By a sense of self and lack thereof, When we, by they encased. Cleavage adorned in modest terms, Abreast as if more than one, Still less than two, duplicitous you, Less I divide by hegemon. Senses shook, a daily wage, Of war: be both me and we? An ancient oath...

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Kitsch, give me a Sign To go It’s kinda funny how life goes on While you sit in a corner all alone The saturday blues are real, To Your Shoes Weighing You down like stones On your foot And the Crinkle cuts of the eyes Are a beshrew Aging, as they call it, In action, A sequence “Folds aren’t...

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London City, Light and pretty One, nine, sixty-two A woman we’d all later know, Was born, Dreaming black and blue Her smile, it would curse her world, Of laughter, love, fear and grief To know her story, First we must rewind The madness that lies within belief… Michelle, she was a lovely girl, Grew with a gorgeous heart Her eyes, they sparked a sunlight blue, Strategised in the starlight...

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yesterday's dreams drop by,waving goodbye,lost in a sigh...

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Two hundred and seventy, is it just a number? In thought^, to an actual hidden wonder, is it not only I whom ponders? Making it interesting let us drop it down by taking away the many that had been carried sixty four exactly. Where did they go, what happened in-between¿ Is a type of...

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Thinking, deciding, and cuddling all muddle flow. I'm not a wiz; I solve, yet my riddles, I know My thoughts and deeds, like an artists', are creative. My reflecting and planning are liberative. Should dews of hope be erased by beams of despair? Should my compassion change as per seasonal air? There are unconscious courses in my mind and soul. Like webs...

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A sentience, where evil notions dwell, shall also hide a goodness there within. ‘Tis but a quandary choosing one to quell when weighing which would be the greater sin. The moral mind lends not to meager thought that contemplates the end of all mankind, but deep within, the mortal mind...

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I watch them grow through the lens of my device, Each victory won in spite of pain, Every moment of tears turns to laughter, And the loud crowds echoing on stages Always jolt me back to reality. I have always watched, From when I was a kid and they were kids...

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Winters are ending And the spring is coming up The time has come for me To bloom fully. Its easy to say But hard to act For those who just say And they don't act. Waited for long To bloom on this day But its hard to try And harder to decide. Made the dreams While enclosed in it (bud) So happy then To think of it. Now I realized Why its...

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A jolt of trembling steel— a crack that doesn’t shatter, but ripples, sending storms into every silent corner. Cries fold in on themselves, tight, suffocating strands, all tangled too deep to get air. This is the weight of love unreturned: a death that breathes, a life that drifts— distilled by sorrow so pure it makes its escape past the body’s treachery, wetting the memory of the quiet...

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Every time you slammed the door Every time you dropped the call Every time you yell at me through and through I get tired too. Every time you passed before me Every time complaints ring upon me Every time murmurs being me I get tired too. Am I your emotions punching bag? Am I your...

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This internal conflict Holding all my secrets inside Is affecting the way I am externally seen Reacting to unknown insecurities in secret Because uneducated people Stigmatize everything I gotta hide all the parts of me They deemed as socially unacceptable To the standards of An unaccepting society But I'd be a misfit and labeled psychotic If I opened the door...

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More recently, l’ve romanticized the idea of falling in love through silence. Maybe it's because my mother pushes love on me through her tongue. Maybe it's because I prefer the inner monologue of myself rather than what I think others perceive me as. I don't want to faze the mind of whom I desire by saying I do...

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