A fat man while clambering up a tree
To pluck pears was stung by a swarm of bee
Alas! With a heavy thud,
He landed in the dry mud
Bees stung on his limp prick and he couldn’t flee!
Categories:
pricked, betrayal, fate, insect,
Form: Limerick
Love has died, but I still try,
A bitter sweet love leaves a sting inside.
Your reasons for leaving were plenty,
As for me, I had so many.
You gave me beautiful roses of red,
Love hidden behind their meanings misled.
Sharp thorns have made me realize,
That a gift can come with a painful price.
My wounded heart it still beats,
It needs to have faith when it seeks.
When new love is found my heart will heal,
But his rose's thorns they attempt to kill.
In pain while holding them tight I bleed,
My heart is once again unsheathed.
Well-chosen tears falling from my eyes,
This time I wont let my roses die.
Vickie Hurtt-Thayer
Categories:
pricked, break up, feelings, hope,
Form: Rhyme
My nights have no rhythmic shadows on the wall
Our candle flame silhouettes no longer rise and fall
Our love cooled like dying embers without a spark
Filled with emotive despair, tears spill in the dark
We shared a tranquil pond in a love forged long ago
but our waters are dammed. Our stream does not flow
What remains of us is a cracked and dried river bed
and a wound in my heart, from which my life has bled
No relief when night is over and the sun starts to rise
'cause it's your face I long to see when I open my eyes
With empty arms, no smile of contentment will I wear
I am left with only memories; a grievous burden to bear
My nights are foreboding, and transcends until morn
Like petals of a rose, I wither, pricked by love's thorn
Desolate, I now languish in the web lost love has spun
Lingering at twilight and dawn, on the edge of the sun
Categories:
pricked, lost love,
Form: Rhyme
Your love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and i'm
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried
by the dove of someone I use to know.
Categories:
pricked, angst, art, beautiful, beauty,
Form: Carpe Diem
Who drank from this poison well
When prick by a rose
Where lover’s decay --
Categories:
pricked, imagination, inspirational, introspection,
Form: Haiku