Prisoner Poems - Poems about Prisoner

In shadows deep where chaos grips my heart, A whispered cry is heard from the darkened cells A child once laughing beneath a sunlit sky, Now lost in the darkness of despair. Fear crawls like a serpent in the night, its scales revealing the demons I bear I drown in thoughts that bind me to...

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When silence envelops me, I become a prisoner of such deep calm, That I hate the quiet that strips me bare, yet love it all the same. It strips everything of meaning, people, voices, even myself, And I begin to see the world through lifeless eyes, as if nothing matters, As if everything passes in a cycle of which...

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BEING A POLITICAL PRISONER HAS IT'S DRAWBACKS I GUESS WHILE RECIEVING TERRORIST THREATS TRYING TO JUST MAINTAIN A DAILY REGIMENE RATHER ITS PICKING OF MEDICATIONS FROM THE PHARMACY A SENSE OF DREAD ARISES CAUSE YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN YOUR CAR WILL BE BLOWN UP BY A PIPE BOMB SUBTLE THREATS ON RECIEPTS LIKE GAS RECICEIPTS...

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I am a purple prisoner of poetry For when I can’t write woe is me Darkens my sky the flowetry Enriches my life the soul of me Some do drugs roll with me I just do hugs go with me Grasping the love of a sheet Of paper, pen and ink is peace Muse is a turquoise tool guides me Ideas are precious jewels...

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Captive of spells by all rhymes and verses Seized in tangs of thoughts and emotions I gain joy, love, comfort, strength and wellness They rob my stress and tensions. As ink spills down from my deepest blood streams I release my imagination with thrill All my hopes, wishes, aspirations and dreams all freed by the tough handcuffs of my quill. Poem is...

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Metaphors and similes flow freely from my pen when I am scripting and scribing in poetic verse. Across the width of pale parchment pages the nib of my feathered pen continues to traverse. Ink courses fathoms deep within me like life blood, rushing through the eddied channels of my veins. I struggle to ignore the cramping in my...

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Bound by the chains of poetry, that’s me Words swirl in my mind continuously However hard I try to flee from this cell The prison of poetry won’t bid farewell. I write of nature’s infinite splendour The more I see, the more I’m in awe Wonder of the sky, sunrise or sunset Trees and flowers with magnificent effect. I tell of birds...

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Alphabets gather as words unravel the passing and returning of moans; lines of phrases inflame the arteries of beauty, angst, love interwoven by imagination's pining. Tingle of words… fragrance of vowels… caress of verses enter the soul, as if to dive into the very basin of layered expressions. On a fresh scroll baring my bones and rawest of mood, I enter a...

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My bars the words, the prison guard my verse, Rattling the staves of this poetic cell, I struggle vainly, locked up in this jail. Yea, thus is my predicament, my curse. Oh, how jealously, you smirking blank verse, I look upon what freedom guides your quill; For formal phrasing does of me compel Stubborn structures—the styles which I rehearse. But, boldy...

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"Some words show up fast, some want to sit and play with us. What can a writer do???" By Poet I like to write so my words in poetry can live, letting my imagination come to life with jive. My ink will not be bound but alive, for my ink not my blood must write to survive. Watch out for...

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PRISONER OF POETRY Is it me in this verse, a strange insight for sure As it is someone who I don’t really recognise Am I writing these words, or someone inside If so, who might be playing the role of a guide And don’t be too hasty in saying that it’s wise As if it is encouraged, it will create even...

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When my muse ruled my conscience's compass, waterfalls of rhyming rivers revealed unspoken secrets - long forgotten in my heart. Exposing vulnerable verses from vaults where vines had wrapped my tongue into subdued silence. In the Injustices of judicial juxtaposition, speech spoke in a paradoxical oxymoron - 'deafening silence' Pouring in drops of crimson, I became a convicted cliché, taken hostage in a Machiavellian marketplace, where I felt illiterate -...

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I'm a prisoner of poetry Chained to the curse of the verse Locked in the labyrinth of lyrics For my better or for worse I'm a prisoner of poetry Captive to words and notions Jailed by the jubilee of jingles Confined by my emotions I'm a prisoner of poetry Restrained by the rhythm of rhymes Immured by the mad myths of metres Thoughts tied to my...

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I am a prisoner of poetry, counting syllables as I rhyme, Hoping ink will give me wings, as I pour silent screams through sleepless nights. I call my muse to awaken my senses, To write one last sonnet, incensed with roses and longing…...

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How can you give up on living ? When you have someone who loves you completely. Is this the life that you want? Knowing you're slowly killing the one person who has always been there for you. Even when no one else was in your life. Why punish them by giving...

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