Short Foist Poems
Short Foist Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Foist by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Foist by length and keyword.
Fate's fickle fingers
frequently foist frustration
and fortune 'fore us
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(C) John C Michaels, 2014
Fond of spicy food this smart man called Bart
Alone he loves to hear his tuneful fart
But on romantic hot date
Foist is his sole option straight
For him to break silent wind is an art.
Aged men often think that their vision
will survive them with utmost precision.
So they foist on the young
obsolete moral dung
which the young then subject to excision.
I really oughta drink my waughta
Since it’s so darn hot.
I’d prefer iced cawfee
But this waughta’s all I’ve got.
Still, it is impawtant,
In the heat, to quench your thoist.
Other drinks can wait, but waughta
You should drink up foist.
Moth and mist kiss her lips
her loneliness from the dark dew
And how she grips nomadic clouds
As if that was her only foist.
I ache for their sighs and songs
her strong want to embrace the welkin
But when she reached the tempest
It hugs her deeper than my embrace.
Written: October 16, 2022
A failure is seduce by its up and down.a storm of worries unites in my mind.prefer to be a winner
. do not asept the role that society foist on you. They deceptively play with your aperreance . Its
hard to trust in this confusing world. Ill maintain my my trust in side me . Knowing that failure
will stand right beside me. by "joseph pichardo"
Push-Pull leaders
demand your gripe
at either end of their
hangman's rope
Your willing hoist
of their own petard,
the Devil's foist
of his own retard.
"retard" in this sense="delay," as in delaying tactics.
1John 5:19.
Luke 4:5-8.
John 17:14-16.
Daniel 2:44,45.
"For tis the sport to have the enginer
Hoist with his own petar, and't shall go hard
But I will delve one yard below their mines
And blow them to the moon"
Hamlet.
Snaking through rocks, flowing on sand
The river sings charm and charity
Infesting the cosmos and the land
The ill-disposed breathe barbarity
Like an orchestra, man’s life may seem
Easy or hard, some keep the accord
For want of goodwill, ethos, or esteem
Playing virtue, some cannot afford
Yet faking and playing, others can fulfill
Masks of goodness they wear only to
Foist on you and me some sickly swill
If only motives, we could see through