Short Diagnosing Poems

Short Diagnosing Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Diagnosing by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Diagnosing by length and keyword.


Premium Member Diagnosing Myself

my ankles are fat
I google this
possible heart disease
well, ain’t that a kiss!

I get a pain in my chest
verification to some
I might be having a heart attack
I chew some Asper-gum
me
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Self Diagnosis

Before diagnosing yourself with low self esteem
or maybe possibly with depression,
first make sure that you're not surrounded by assholes.
They can cause you to display the very same symptoms.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Of Problems And Solutions


                       problems
                  knotty, stressful
       resolving, tackling, diagnosing
conundrums, complexities, result, ideas
     proposing, brainstorming, solving
                      solutions
Form: Diamante

I got the runs

The juices are flowing
Out my butt it’s flowing
The stink surely is growing
The end is near i am hoping
The poos are floating
As they keep going
I begin to wonder will it ever stop exploding
For the pain has me moaning
On my phone diagnosing
The research is undergoing
My ignorance is showing
For I don’t know why my butt is unloading
The doctor call i continue postponing
As my juices stay a flowing…
© Trash Boat  Create an image from this poem.

Completely Unafraid

I am in awe of my sisters
nieces 
writers, poets, songwriters, musicians
physicians
so creative every way
sewing cooking writing publishing, diagnosing curing
moving the world in a better way
unafraid of a sewing machind or a rejection letter
they move on
medical school in her 30's
two pubished novels
designs stationary
designs baby clothes
writes, travels, performs her own songs
completely unafraid
throwing themselves
into their lives.
Form:


Premium Member Everyone Diagnoses Children

Obviously it is apparent he said.
Vitally clear.
Plain to see.
What is? I asked him.
That child is emotionally disturbed, he announced.

I was shocked, walking away quickly.
I am not qualified to diagnose
And yet he is?
And with confidence.

Who? You ask.
Bag boy at the grocery store.
Sixteen knows everything though.
I had almost forgotten that.
I smiled, remembering, turned and waved.
But he was in the throes of diagnosing another child.
Form: Narrative

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace