Short Miscarriage Poems
Short Miscarriage Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Miscarriage by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Miscarriage by length and keyword.
a reason we shall never know
where there be life there be sorrow
misgiven... undeserving to show
a mischief in life for a better tomorrow
Doomed from the womb
A hole in my heart
A loss not yet gained
Love with a life not born
A death without a birth
How much is a life worth?
Hope for a child that never was
Lost, Words, Sight,
Hearing, Mute, Memory,
Sound, Mind, Keys,
Way, Time, Baby, Child
Miscarriage, Family, Friend
Cat, Dog, Animal, Bike
Car, Toy, Understanding
Compassion, Heart, Breath
DEATH
You've felt the love of our mother's womb - sleeping to the lullabies of our father.
Oh big brother, how cruel has fate been to deny me the pleasure of meeting you.
I exist because you didn't, therefore, I promise to live the life you couldn't.
Mother did not bake apple pies,
but she drank strong cider,
which baked her brains.
Dad had a sharp tongue,
he picked his teeth
with its forked tip.
We were a one child family,
there was a miscarriage.
I recall we butchered the stork.
Mother roasted it,
for us all
that Christmas.
Pitter-Patter, Pitter-Patter, the sound of little feet, though you are lost, I know you are not, My baby we'll meet again, my heart was broken for you, I'm sulking the child I'll never meet, pitter-patter, pitter-patter the sound of an angels feet, pitter-Patter pitter-patter, my Baby one day ill meet.
One miscarriage too many;
Blessed with miracle baby.
A mother beyond joyful.
Her prayers answered.
Writing Challenge - J words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Word choice: Joyful
Syllables checked at HMS
Date written: 03/07/2023
There is no reason to feel
To heal for my hills are filled
With tomorrows and empty sorrows
Of withered and dead flowers that turn to grey like ghost
As they blow in the wind the shrill soft grim “can we just be ………”
It never ends and what started in poetry ends in poetry
Openly exposing me to a miscarriage in times ovaries
For A Bleeding Flower of Justice
Like a virgin flower
plucked from an edenic
garden,
justice lies lifelessly
in fields of nightmares—
bleeding bastard blood
of raped miscarriage.
Observers pass by
cringing in disgust—
clinching their innocence
and wiping apathetic brows,
they sigh and move on:
relieved it’s no fault of theirs.
I was scared for you
of Knowing
Of the life growing
Inside of me.
The life let go
Like a flower on the first fallen snow
I didn't understand why
So I curled up to cry
So scared to tell you
Not knowing what you'll do
now you're mad at me
When all I want to be
Is with you
I care for you
No matter what is said
That's always true...
Form:
Each time Trump says the country’s a wreck,
they go out to the roads to inspect.
If Woody Woodpecker
had had a fact checker,
they’d be feeling his feathers to check.
On The View though, they all get a pass
when Whoopi cushions spew forth their gas.
Trump will jail your miscarriage,
end interracial marriage,
and lock up his opponents en masse.
Moon,
Full moon,
Full moon, monthly.
Moon, woman,
Full moon, woman,
Full moon, woman, monthly.
Moon,
woman,
Full moon, full woman.
Round moon,
Round woman.
moon in woman,
woman in bed.
Eyeless moon laying in bed,
bright,
so bright,
unmoving,
as her fingers say goodbye.
For Brenda Chiri’s Picture Prompt contest
3/11/2020
Form:
Poor boy hungry,
Revolution in stomach
Machinegun boy carry
Oh! Boy attack
Kill: rich, poor
Frustrated brain man
Mental rate more
Eat trash can
Sleep Bridge under
Terror people more.
What is further?
Bleak dreams more
City big city
Where hope gone?
Brain wasted done
Devil take duty
Mortal man killed
Played stage part
Dirge song filled
Rainbow sky cry’s
Miscarriage
An expectation is no more
a loss
a sad breakdown
a failure of survival
an unexpected expulsion
pain
as the mother cries relentlessly
hurting
stressing
lamenting
mourning
weeping
an angel is no more
a beloved will not be received
plans ruined
what a disappointment
to family and friends
because of a shameful miscarriage.
Drencho POET Loads
Dark clouds roll in from up above.
My heart cries out with tears of love.
A crying out from deep within,
For something that just could have been.
What once was there with hopes and dreams,
Now fills my mind with silent screams.
From up above I see a light.
Of smaller things that look so bright.
From deep within I feel they’re free.
The angels fly aside of me.
Form:
"Not allowing yourself to be who you were always meant to be
is the grossest miscarriage of justice."
--by poet
You have a God-given right to be you
Live your truth fully each day
Let no one bully you.
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written March 24, 2022
Syllables 10-7-6 checked by HMS and PS
For “Form K – Kimo” poetry contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Weeping Webbed World
(Apropos of a Syrian Nightmare)
Affronts to humanity streak the skies
Like once perched war eagles
Soaring over communities of prey
Where the lingering smell of death
Is as normal as the scent flowers once had.
A grieving webbed world in abject apathy
Awaits the cesarean births of hope and peace—
Hope and peace laboring on the delivery table of life.
Will they too, become miscarriage siblings?
In the arrogance of my silence I stand,
Facing the hill of pressure,
Sweat and tears rolling down,
The fears of my voice spoke with assurance,
My day is fighting to bloom,
But my time asking for insurance,
Is it really hard?
Further is a bedlam,
Needful for the miscarriage of my mind,
Though the vision knows no limit,
With the cries of time,
This protest in search of the blueprint,
Even infinite words won't describe the imprint.
Born: March 8th 2014
Who would assume
she could never bloom
Who would assume
she could leave so soon
Who would assume
such doom could loom
that a life giving womb
would turn to a tomb...
Died: March 6th 2014
Dedicated to Kloe Faith Reno and my precious granddaughter in law Veronica and grandson Jacob who have lost 2 babies in less than 2 years. The first was a ‘simple’ miscarriage, but the second baby Veronica carried for almost 7 months.
So many ages
So many cages
Lived to tell
A story of kiss and kill
It was a look and a kiss on tempting lips
Followed by a hug of ample hips
Time stopped frozen
For him to be chosen
Not knowing the next
Just feeling the best
Didn't take long
To know he was dead wrong
Fell in a crappy trap
A sneaky snare set up by a lethal tramp
Too late to scream or cry out
He is done, not doubt
They call it Marriage
When it is life Miscarriage .
The horizon
desolate
it matters not
what you were
memories
are just that
memories
a familiar road
peering within
inadequacy
reaching out
to what end
tomorrow
matters more
without performance
love has conditions
a battered heart
realizing
I am nothing
life’s miscarriage
so what is left
redemption
maybe a tear
I do not think so
life moves on
a judgement
my memories
scattering
empty spaces
no hand awaits
erase me.
Edward J Ebbs - February 20, 2016
You were starving the words
to commit the waves of hunger.
What I wanted was a patch of shade
under an olive grove.
No intrusion. It was a miscarriage
of justice. We were searching the –
missing links between the years
of misunderstandings.
We sell our gods and move on
unquietly to understand the-
lament of middle of the road, when
sun was nestling in the clouds.
It was Fall. Fall of vanity, fall of
integrity. Fall, fall-
my pride, my tears. The season
was changing.
Satish Verma
M-emorable marriage
I-s not made to be broken;
C-ouples who make a vow
H-ave to stay until the end.
A-n unforgettable marriage
E-xcites the mind and heart;
L-ove and trust remain as the faith won't fall apart.
&
C-elebrating the big occasion
Y-earns to let them nurture;
N-uptial event has added joy
T-o the twenty-third September pleasure.
H-usband and wife are firm
I-n spite of the miscarriage;
A-fter years of braving the storm, they still honor the memorable marriage.
Mentally endowed enough,
to take the piffle from your puff,
and ram it home, sweet butter cup,
side effects are frightening,
miscarriage of justice, can put you off
and pride slips cos you're the Toff
that damaged goods, while cancer scoffs.
Not so enlightening.
thick as your arm is mental charm,
which may be so inviting,
don't even want to cause alarm.
yet love is still exciting
4-jul-11 Don Johnson
Brian Strand
Contest Name A POEM FROM THEE form or free max 14 lines
My hypothalamus is haunting me.
An empty crib.
A bump that will never grow.
Love authenticity, you will always be a part of me.
A ghost in the hallways.
Your heart beat in my deepest quetiapine dreams.
A scan that will never show your sweetest echo.
Father, why would you make me bleed the love so pure?
I lost my voice from speaking you into existence.
He runs his fingers over my stomach my breath hitching, hoping yours is too.
My hypothalamus is haunting me.