Death Parents Poems | Examples
These Death Parents poems are examples of Parents poems about Death. These are the best examples of Parents Death poems written by international poets.
For you are nevermore.
Your eyes' last light
never illumined mine.
Death prompted us
to be hasty -
curbed childhood,
sped me past stop signals,
headlong onto adult carousels.
But we must agree over how these hours are
moving against our wills.
I've remained still until here,
grasping a rumpled-up grocer's receipt
with this budget-buy pen,
confident of words
I have space to admit now
and bury in poetry's
kinetic cemetery.
I'm sure I loved
your faulty teeth's scattered English,
its determined guidance.
I wished my life
had been adequate
to cover your shortfall
as you had covered mine
back when I was all but novelty.
in
your
sacred
moments
of surrender
you relinquished
your natural instincts
to angel’s silver shroud
with joyous turquoise tears
and when again you soared
~ you carried dad with you ~
to the other side of the skies
as the sun bestowed a halo
upon the celebration of
~~~ONENESS~~~
*
o
xOx
ooOoo
xxXOXxx
oo-LOVE-oo
xxxXXXXxxx
~ooOOOoo~
~~xOx~~
o
xOx
ooOoo
x-JOY-x
ooOOOoo
~xOx~
When the elders declare a war,
they have lived their lives.
Wars thundering through the
centuries,
Death is present to reap,
it’s the children who fall.
They haven’t walked enough,
in childhood’s discovering journey.
The bombs, the drones,
the guns,
the screams of fright,
dying under a sun they should
be playing in,
it’s the children who fall.
Dust plumes in the hellish rampage,
and in the rubble they are dead,
mothers, fathers wail to God Who
weeps on His heavenly throne.
Psyches bleed, ravaged by grief.
Wars trample and crush the flowers
of innocence,
as the butterflies search for them,
it’s the children who fall. ~
A mark of scarlet was the first,
Fitting of inferior character.
He was associated of plagues,
The name given of a tragedy.
The dead made a bottomless pit on him,
Rendered executed, the title of foundling.
Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy
Parent presents herself as distressed, concerned, loving
Major caregiver to child who appears perpetually sickly
Child’s symptoms are exaggerated
Worse yet, sometimes falsified by mother
She might contaminate the urine samples
Child gets better in hospital until mommy dearest visits
What is happening?
Nurses are the first to suspect
Doctors do not want to think this way
Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy
A mental illness whereby a caregiver
Starves or poisons child
Sadly, many of them are health professionals
Wanting others to consider them saviors
As they save their child once again from the cliff of death
We boarded the soulful train at birth.
We grasp our family will be our vassal.
Both of our parents will starve to death.
No one escorted us toward the gravel.
Our parents will debark from the train later.
Hence we're left alone along this journey.
Sprung people will be joining our tabor.
Family and companions are at life's worry.
Plenty will jump ship, leaving an endless void.
Others vanish so quietly we can't notice.
It'll be a train ride of farewell and fear alloyed
We must maintain a strong host alliance.
We are uncertain of our exit in this mystery.
But should adore, excuse, and utter our aware all.
It's crucial, yet we should abandon our seats empty.
We must improve comely memories for future recall.
Family ties should bind the wound
When parents get their well-earned rest
Ne’er leave a single child ungroomed
While other siblings’ take the best.
They were the most godly parents
Family ties should bind the wound
Neither mom nor pop were errants
Leaving their children to be doomed.
Death lately together entombed
Leaving the six children to share
Family ties should bind the wound
Four are greedy, other two care.
Greedy four hired lawyers to fight
Will leave the two others marooned
The family knows it’s not right
Family ties should bind the wound.
written July 20, 2021
You're fat
Yelled at
Abused
Misused
Sad sighs
Soft cries
Left home
To roam
The streets
Not sweet
Too quick
Turned tricks
Too soon
Was ruined
On dope
No hope
In jail
No bail
Unsung
Died young
To the ones who made us and suffered
our puberty and disdain and arrogance.
Here's a toast to those we can't love 'til
death does us part. They suffer our pain.
A toast to the liars who keep our lives
on old tracks in disrepair safe on lies.
sixth of six children my parents conceived I was second to survive
written 26 Aug 2020
You lived your lives the best you knew.
Regrets were some but very few.
Shared many years in love's embrace
But early mistakes you couldn't erase.
Your children scattered as families will do;
One stayed nearby to see you through.
You used to put us all to bed
But now we've tucked you in instead.
Your ashes lie side by side
Where the wild things reside.
The planes fly low overhead:
A fitting tribute to our Ed.
The view is Sound, the air blows free
With smells of seaweed and the sea.
Memories are everywhere
Of happy days without a care.
Camping, hiking and swimming too;
May it all come back to you.
Rest peacefully there in God's grace
In this, your final resting place.
December 7, 2019
My father’s light is gone,
Traveling well past
Whatever we can fathom
Present state of flesh
Holds us hostage
To flesh earth
Limiting our mind view
Three-dimensional
Limitation
Dad, travels now
A true wayfarer,
Not like a Fuller Brush salesman,
But footloose, casual,
Heavenly one,
He can no longer turn back
In no way tied
The curtain of pain falls upon us
For we cannot fathom
Or understand
Fully yet
Written April 27, 2019
Contest: Verses of Metaphors 3
Prompt: The Curtain of Pain Fell Upon Us
Sponsor: Lu Loo
Old girlfriends, my dad’s drifting down that path,
Into death valley as my mom seethes wrath.
The old man’s gone crazy.
His mind sharp, not lazy.
Mom’s dried the dishes. Dad’s in the flight path.
6/20/2018
What do you think happens when you die?
I asked the sobbing 7-year-old.
She could not quit though.
She was in full-blown
keening, wailing,
shoulder shaking,
lip quivering,
keening, and screaming now,
sobbing mode.
Her very caring, loving, unselfish parent
Had told her about the death of her
Great-aunt Rose, whom she had
Never met who
Passed
In
1965
this morning.
It was the fifth time I had
seen her this week as
her great-great grandfather
had passed in 1972, 74, 78,
81, and 85.
Her mother, was the best
story-telling drug addicted
parent in the world
apparently,
and knew
what she
needed to
do to keep
lilttle one in
check.
Hard to imagine
A whole ward of sick children
Young yet months or days to live
Fighting for their lives
Hoping at least a few will beat the odds
Families suffering from broken hearts
Putting up a strong front
Day to day imagining the worst
Not understanding how they will cope
Why them Why Why Why
Life and Death are all too unfair
Beautiful innocent darlings
As pure as any angel
Why them Why Why Why
Nocturnal visits as dreams from beyond
Bring comfort and the words of hope
For those whose hearts grieve
This circle of life hardly begun
AP: 1st place 2025