Pluck At Poems - Poems about Pluck At

...My Roots Pluck at my green leaves Devour my fruit with gusto Hack at my bark all day Carve your name on my trunk My roots remain steadfast Snip at my blossoms Relish in its colours and scent......

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...June showed her pluck at an early age As prophesized by a pleasant sage Six nuns tried to put her into a cage This quickly made Omaha’s front page Causing lots of readers parental rage She is lo......

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...{"There is a part of me, Of us, That lay deceased underneath the frosty elixir and the lightning bolts that puncture our bodies. They magnify and embroider our wounds. They strenuously scorch an......

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... When an angel sings the world stops, and listens A soul released, and sang without any conditions Tears flow, and minds, are heavenly transitioned Where we’re all blessed, by this angels’ ren......

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...I see no reason for this toxic state other than hate or desired submission found in my dream where a kiss upon the heart is a rusty chain hanging on walls of circumstance a vision within a vis......

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...These Scars, they tell a story. A story that doesn’t end. End, the pain that has been behind me, following. Follow? Followed like a social media story. Story, is what i wish to tell but I c......

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...Why do boys treat women with such disrespect and disregard? We women are just flowers each alike, Fragile, agile, soft and dainty. To some atleast. When we are really bold, bright and beau......

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...They searched for fruit That subconscious memory of flavour That lingered scent, that succulence, That soul satisfying savour. But the tree that bore their bounty Had long ago been hacked ......

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...One dark and stormy night, when half my life lay behind me ?I wandered from the straight and narrow path too far. And took my heart for a ship’s compass All through the darkness, I followed no cou......

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...I hear a faint tapping outside the glass, A whisper of sorrow from my tainted past. My unwanted lover beckons from the place of shame, And follows me into slumber. I am but a whisper caught in th......

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...The picture is of an oldish man sitting on a hard chair in front of an Edsel on which is the painting of a fire. The room is concrete with some brushes and paints next to the Edsel and one coat hangi......

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...I hang from the strings I tied to you that I’m too afraid to cut; too afraid to tug on when you can’t feel my weight. I'll cut myself some slack, only for you to pluck at them once more. The st......

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...PETAL GIRL I dial your number in the depth of sleep hands on my clock move hands on your body move flowers in your mouth flowers in your thighs always in the garden of you ......

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...I am feeling the shock of fast change. How to cope with it is of course the question. Listen to Beethoven through the neighbor's window? Look up from the page? Appreciate doves even though they are s......

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...She was the flower in the barefoot spring. I felt like I knew her in every life before. She took me into her like I belonged; She’s everything I never asked for. I wouldn’t have known quite wha......

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