Short Breadcrumb Poems
Short Breadcrumb Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Breadcrumb by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Breadcrumb by length and keyword.
Left behind and rightfully replaced.
Engulfed in down tempo while falling up.
Breadcrumb trails lead to sought out place.
Care for self and ignore the schlup.
Seagulls talking
what's the matter?
fussy squawking
seagulls talking...
Waddle walking
pavement patter-
Seagulls talking
what's the matter?
Birds discussing
“Took my breadcrumb!”
Angry fussing
birds discussing
seagull cussing
“Hey, I want some!”
birds discussing
“Took my breadcrumb!”
When the biting slap of recognition impacts, unbridled eternity springs forth, as Emily Dickinson's "Wild nights" rides the wave in front of me.
He's back again, this time with whiskey breath and redneck vehemence, revved up to conquer.
Maybe this lifetime, a breadcrumb in the Sahara of the souls incessant trial,
just once the twins will meet as one.
What they do, they all know.
They breadcrumb, sugarcoat,
they love-bomb, gaslight,
or sometimes just hoover or go with the flow.
But I cry and try till the end,
losing self-reliance, going insane;
because later I don't wanna feel sorry.
I can't live with a heavy chest full of thoughts of hurting others,
I don't wanna live with a repenting memory.
I can't let my head to bow
in guilt, in fear, in sin...
thus, I never leave, I outgrow.
Retracing all my steps
Still looking for the last breadcrumb
Trying to find my way back
From who I have become
Look up at the daylight
Thinking it will leave a clue
Shine a light on all my mistakes,
On what I thought I knew
I think i wanna go home
But I cant remember why
All the rooms there are haunted
All my plans go awry
So I'll walk until my feet bleed,
"Leave your shoes at the door".
Red-clay colored head to bone
Always leave me looking for more
Perched on a limb
High above the ground
Sat a little birdie
Looking all around
Peering down among the people
He cried with glee
I see a tiny breadcrumb
Just waiting for me!
Soon the little birdie
Flew to the ground
Pecked at the breadcrumb
But failed to look around.
Then one of the people
With a gleam in his eye
Stomped the little birdie
And watched him die.
The moral to this story
Is always look around
And never eat your dinner
Sitting on the ground.
The salt of their skin has its flayed
geometry, sharp crevices beneath
the classroom where my dark teeth
tried the savoury chalk and failed.
I have been a teacher for the sum
of my disjointed life; never knew
otherwise, never learnt, as I grew,
how to study the breadcrumb
where the heights have gathered.
My students, ants in my breath,
state they are builders of words
in silence and thrive, feathered
like fangless tigers, within death,
my blandest subterranean birds.
Molly was a ghastly child, with spiders, slugs and snails, her room was always messy, with
jam sandwich breadcrumb trails,
Her hair was always knotty, and her dress was never clean, she was quite the little
horror, with her super sonic screams,
Yet Molly had a smile that could melt the hardest heart, at least until her temper came
and tantrums then would start,
In every little girl there's a Molly somewhere hiding, and behind her back with angelic
grin, a slimy snail is sliding.