Short Captors Poems
Short Captors Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Captors by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Captors by length and keyword.
Toilet in the open. No secrets.
Plexiglass. Concrete. Stainless steel.
Pleas turn to echos, blend in.
Captors - no trusting smile.
Bosses more ruthless.
Colleagues don't yield.
Cries at night.
Helpless.
Sleep.
Trapped and static,
particles infiltrate my breath.
I am compressed,
I am held,
this cell,
this hell.
Hate,
rejection,
approval,
my captors.
I immerse myself in white noise,
I reside in sorrow,
in my despair,
in chains,
in tears,
my cellular embrace.
Form:
The triple sun set - what a sight,
And colours that I’d never seen,
My captors chirping their delight.
The triple sun set - what a sight,
Before the thirty moons of night.
My fellow captives: bones picked clean.
The triple sun set - what a sight,
And colours that I’d never seen.
The triple sun set - what a sight,
And colours that I’d never seen,
My captors chirping their delight.
The triple sun set - what a sight,
Before the thirty moons of night.
My fellow captives: bones picked clean.
The triple sun set - what a sight,
And colours that I’d never seen.
Held as captives in a ship
Chains binding us together
Hunger, but we could not starve
Tears but we could not cry.
We were warriors of our land
Children of the soil
May the gods forbid that our ancestors would look us in shame.
And so together,
We ambushed our captors
And sank the ship
It was better to die
Than be slaves in a foreign land.
Slamming back from a pedigree
Feather weights accentuate
Dodge and dart, meditate
Throw down the majesty
Standing statue to lumbering birds
Grotesque reflects off the shin bone
Moses parting the red sun
Hauling banquets with captors
Captives sling up the frozen masters
Atomic beats streaking spleens
Intestinal with pesicide, the tics grow dreams
Split to dull gather, sending cinders
They have removed my restraints.
They are done observing me now.
I have been absolved.
And now they have spit me out into the streets.
I’m still feeling a bit rabid.
In that tired sort of way.
A little dazed, you could say.
I am once again bound to reality.
But I will still explore my new world.
And let go of joy.
To find satisfaction.
In what my captors left for me.
Captured,
Tortured,
Endlessly,
Mercilessly,
24/7 Continuously.
What did I do that was so terribly wrong?
I was born in an era, where the powers that be felt, I did not belong.
As the quality of my life gets savagely raped,
I take comfort knowing that I will be victorious and make my escape.
Inevitably, I'll get too weak and die from all this abuse,
and escape from my captors, all government approved.
Caught in her captors tangled web
Unable to escape nowhere now to run
To frightened to scream or even move
Naked as the day that she was born
Exposed her body pulsating with fear
Will her young virginity remain intact
Or will lust and desire and unbridled passion
Hold her in this web spun in sheer ecstasy
Does the pure maiden still now even exist
Or is she replaced by a sensual wanton vixen
Cleverly creating her own web within a web
Love is the greatest motivator,
It can make a dying person feel well
again, or sad hearts feel as if they are on
the mend,
Love brings out the best in even the
most cynical of souls, it wages an endless
quest to make its captors happy,
It has no shame,
It will make its participants
mushy and sappy,
The fuel of love instigates wrath,
jealousy and lust, but the greatest
emotions that true love bring are
security and trust.
Love is the greatest motivator,
It can make a dying person feel well
again, or sad hearts feel as if they are on
the mend,
Love brings out the best in even the
most cynical of souls, it wages an endless
quest to make its captors happy,
It has no shame,
It will make its participants
mushy and sappy,
The fuel of love instigates wrath,
jealousy and lust, but the greatest
emotions that true love bring are
security and trust.
The tiger was caged without splendor or pomp
His mistake had been "not draining" the swamp.
The captors were, of course, so very adorable.
They reveled with peers but not the deplorable.
Decades of schooling by progressive tutors
Millenial cagers were the loudest rooters.
Everything free and nothing to worry
Yell at the tiger with unbounded fury.
One hopes this story will end in success
And not just another mistaken guess.
First I was kidnapped
Then I broke free
I escaped from my captors only to be
Stung by a ferocious big black bumblebee
I went to the doctor
Who treated the sting
On my way I came 'cross
A poor little thing
Stuck in a key
A doctor I may not be
But I unlocked her
That poor little thing
And then-
What?
You want to know what thing?
Well, it was a lion the size of a ring
Honest, teacher
This isn't a lie
With an actual lie I would actually try
I am like an oak, she had often told us.
I will never bend to anyone’s will, especially not his.
He was her captor, so she decided to bend.
Like a willow, to survive.
By the time she was finished
she was a dandelion, and all of her determined pieces had blown away.
What was left standing was not powerful enough for tea.
The oak with the iron will was no more.
The rest of us had been mere acorns.
We had no aspirations now
except to survive our captors.
Every father’s child,
A seed in the wild,
Nature and nurture are its tutors,
The unseen are its captors.
Every father’s child,
Crafted by the gentle and mild,
They come to a vast field,
Oblivious of tomorrow’s yield.
Every father’s child,
Made to go through the wild,
As they hunt for treasures in the night,
Time teaches them to fight.
Every father’s child,
Their tomorrow is scripted and filed,
Carried by tender bosom,
Separated as they blossom.
March 19, 2024.