Short Meaninglessly Poems
Short Meaninglessly Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Meaninglessly by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Meaninglessly by length and keyword.
Monday
mocks melancholy
chides children
plagues parents
traumatizes traffic
meanders meaninglessly
toward Tuesday
John G. Lawless
9/28/2020
Listen to poem:
Beyond
These trivial pursuits
The day looms long,
Largely unused, unplanned,
Promising unimportant
Activities.
Anticipating alternatives,
Inertly I idle,
Mind meandering meaninglessly,
Mildly morose,
Diffident, diffuse,
And aimless.
understanding lacks her mysteries
all in my head
what wonder asunder?
a complex calibration
with my ego.
all in jest!
but, is it really?
what is the nip in the bud?
my rose?
my cucumber?
my lavender?
finger to lip, I pause,
eyes meandering meaninglessly,
comprehending nothing, I
turn away.
Such a immense pain I feel
when i realize that I am not the sun
that illuminates your life ...
Distress even greater when perceive
that your moon has settled
on the darker side
that I don't notice ..
And that we were the same as
disconnected outcasts
floating meaninglessly,
wandering aimlessly,
lost from that love
athwart the spaces ...!
Ever feel you were taken a fool by someone
You thought you arctually knew
Turns out they played a better game
And you are left with.heartache and pain
Funny how the truth comes out yet they tell
You it's wrong to have doubt
Yet they know exactly what they are talking
About
Your the fool and he so meaninglessly played
You and now your left with tears and shame
But you never thought you'd be a part of his
Heartless game
The waves came to sweep me
on the pebbles
Through the ears of the breeze
I whispered you
On the wings of the albatross
I saw the rising sun
Today exhausted I am on the stone
numbed feelings my poem is
By the thread of the living theory
I am feared existence
Bottomless dungeon of inferential news
I blame the times
I forget myself; I forget myself meaninglessly
for the self-made roots
-21.12.2020 Chattogram
Memory plays ‘hide-and-seek’.
Mind is a sorry seeker in this game.
A doctor prescribes to cure ‘the void’.
It’s a learned hypocrisy.
Words clash one another on Mrs.Pathu’s
tongue and fall down meaninglessly.
Infancy is reborn in the wet
shade of her Alzheimer’s.
Memory sets in her present
and rises in her past.
Intermittently falling beams
glare in her eyes.
She bobs up and down like the jetsam
on the waves.
Now, life announces
its retrieval in doleful tones.