Life Pain Poems - Poems about Life Pain

How We Can Learn To Love

When you see others hurting and your heart doesn’t cry,
Look inside and ask yourself the answer to your why?
The path we’re given here on Earth is so we can learn.
To begin the learning process, we must feel concern.

For each to evolve while on this Earth, each must transform.
Right choices made along the way seldom cause

Imagination

Date written: 26th July, 2025
Contest: Three Options in I Poetry
Sponsor: Constance La France
The man who has no imagination has no wings.
— Muhammad Ali
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Imagination lends me its safe wings,
So I can soar toward futures I choose,
To fill my life with hopes and precious things;
Though striking gold is never a mere cruise,
Neither are lily-livered crowned as kings.

Sweat

After Pink Clouds

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                                             After Pink Clouds

     

Kaleidoscopic Life

                                            Kaleidoscopic Life

         

Scrawls Of Heartbroken Stillness

I turn the leaves of my old diaries.
Wherein my passions and anxieties
Together with your dried rose petals, sleep.
They savor your scent and bitterly weep.

Our glances, touches, cuddles, and kisses
Fun-filled, playfully hopping-mad hisses
Our desires, dreams, hopes, and aspirations
Did all these, like sheds, have no foundations?

Creeds and credos weren't causes for our split.
What's the root of our

Getting Accustomed to Life

    They do well to accustom you to life
  
       ~ the process of going under the knife

Pain

Pain

Life can sometimes be happy. Really?
Oh, positive thinking and proactivity!
But this is an illusion only. Self-deception
Happiness is the shadow of suffering
This is the reality. Nothing else. That’s it

Game of life

The game of life is fkd we supposed to value money so people get it by any means
then its from the cops we runnin and people doing life for sellin green to the ones who tryna escape by gettin high, they known as fiends...

an now they both behind that barbed wye and cut like seams
and

Zen mode

since this is what we signed up for
life tests us again and again
looked at by us with nonchalance 
vibrant in joy and stoic in pain

recognising life as a dream
wherein we are somewhat awake
all that matters is God’s bliss beat
making presence calm like a lake

Scratched and scarring

Life's loveless hand scraped me
              Blood poured on dry cement
The sun heated it up
              Boiling on the ground
But a stain remains there
       

Limbs - Apr 28

Crick, Crack,Pop!,—“Ow!”, ach… won’t my joints of ache
never relent? The tension—every move—
with each attempt to loose—a rigid groove—
my muscles,—all efforts to simply break

the pressure,—ayayaye,so,taut—,to shake
free my body, to feel the strain improve,
I’ve tried to stretch myself  so   to    remove
the overwhelming cramps and pangs, which rake

my shambling corpse.—But ill I

I see you

I see you, lurking at the edge of the crowd
with your eyes down and head hanging
When I do meet your eyes, I feel the impact
of the pain that I see there
It feels inadquate, but I offer a smile and a prayer
and hope that you can see that I care

Suture - Apr 25

The subtle thread which mends a laceration
is woven through fresh, tender flesh to bind
disreconciled horizons, disentwined
by words sharper than the knives of damnation.

Then, even once that painful separation
is closed, there’s still so much left to attend
to,—wash the wound, put bandages, amend
echoes saddled with righteous indignation. 

A stitch is but the means of tying tight
the gasping

ALL THAT I HATE

As I walk each day through fire,
                   The burning bridges in my wake;
                        

Solitude

“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,” - Lord Byron
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