Short Run Dry Poems
Short Run Dry Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Run Dry by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Run Dry by length and keyword.
Truly, if blood is life
her veins run eternity
and heart beats;
the fountain of youth.
Kiss me least I run dry
and wither away to die
In the dark I am alone
Without my wife, without my son
I wish to die but then I cry
I cry, cry and cry
Till the tears in my eyes all run dry
When words run dry,
She does not try,
Nor do I.
She just is,
I just am,
And we just are.
Nothing changes,
Wallowing in denial,
She and I.
All of My Patience
All of My Patience politicians do try;
Each hole of water will let run dry;
We are abused;
Mishandled, misused;
Will be waiting for their next alibi.
Jim Horn
J-ust let your tears run dry,
A-llowing your eyes to glow;
N-ever be lonely and blue,
E-rase the pain and sorrow.
Topic: Birthday of Jane M. Buenaventura (May 3)
Form: Acrostic Quatrain
~~~
Imagine this world
with no lullaby?
Imagine each eye
never to cry
tears wept in sorrow,
each river run dry?
I'd save me some tears
to be lulled from on high.
~~~
Why,why, the barren womb's cry
More water,sighs the earth,run dry;
The grave ever cries for more;
An unending roar,the fire's rampage
Give,give echos this pagan age !
Inspired by Proverbs 30 :15-17
Like the last leaves of autumn
Scattered to the four winds
Our love is drifting away
Like a desert river
Long run dry
Our love is desiccated
Like the winter landscape
Stark and bare
Our love is Barren
Form:
Let them think you're not worth it.
Let them think you're not enough.
But know this:
Mediocrity isn't for me.
I dream,
I try,
I speak,
I fly.
My spirit will not run dry
For I am blessed to reach the sky.
The night grows weary
and so do I
It seems not to matter
how hard I try
The river's run dry
Its waters need to replenish...
As I fade in to their steam
May they grant my last wish
The river,
that fed the sea of their love has run dry
and now
their thirsty for affection hearts
pray to Eros for the rain of warmheartedness
to come!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
26 August 2018
Every time i come by
You say goodbye
I fake a reply
To say bye bye
In real i cry
Cry cry cry
I cry cry and cry
Never dry
Unless i die
Or else open your eye
Things aren't in dye
Let hearts tie
Future we will run dry
Time and Fate conspire
To indict my garden of gravel
Where my tears never run dry
To water the flowers of hell
That bloom in the silence of midnight.
I still want to do something for you
Out of my nihilty..
Oct 27, 2008
Form:
when dewdrops run dry,
and the sun warms the new day
one by one I’ll pick
the petals of cherry's blooms
gently falling in your palm.
16 February 2022
A Strand (1075) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
1st place
Have all the water fountains run dry
Is the land desolate forever
And what of that great city Jerusalem
Mount Zion, the habitation of our God.
W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2022.
25/4/22
Where do you go
at the end of your dreams
Where do you go
when the daylight moves on
Where do you go
once your voice has run dry
Where do you go
—when tomorrow is gone
(Pagosa Springs Colorado: July, 2019-Rewritten 2-23-2021)
Take down the photos
of rivers run dry
Throw out the offerings
to the gods of luck and time
Claw for the right words
Spit them out on the pavement
Carve this life into a home
Know you'll never want for comfort
Know you'll always be alone
A-nother page is turned,
N-ew dawn breaks in first December;
G-od's blessings never run dry,
E-ver-flowing like a river.
L-et the Lord turn the rain
I-nto one smiling sunshine;
C-olor your birthday with hue
A-s crimson that's so fine.
When verses
run dry
do you hide
in despair
When the Muse
is on fire
only ashes
you’ll bear
With silence
embedded
on each
empty page
Your fear
is the foundling
that kindles
— the rage
(Ronald McDonald House: May, 2025)
New day breaks after the night,
dawning as the sun is up;
Inviting the red beacon
to keep on rising and never stop.
Call on the Almighty's name
to let not the blessings run dry;
Or ask Him to let the rain
fall its water from the sky.
O-n twenty-first January,
S-aturday greets the blue lane;
C-oal clouds have vanished,
A-s well as the cold
R-ain.
S-ent graces from above
U-se the river near the plateau;
L-et not the blessings run dry
I-n the fountain of water
T-oo.
You’re kidnapped by the serenade,
of the whispers before they hush.
Your eyes seduce the blade,
as you crave and dread the rush.
Your skin and the steel collide,
and the edge delivers chills.
Now all of your fears subside,
as the crimson slowly spills
A-nother new page is added,
N-inth morn in September;
G-reetings come from the heart,
E-arly waking you from slumber.
L-et not God's blessings run dry,
Y-earn to receive the heaven's grace;
N-ever ignore His commandments for you to feel His embrace.
That's all folks
It's been fun, but I think I'm done.
I'll probably read from time to time
but it looks like I've lost my rhyme
Almost five years,
and my inspiration has run dry.
Thanks for all of your support!
John Derek Hamilton
February 02,2020
Listen to poem:
If only swallowing a knife could cut the words from my minds eye
So complex open wounds would slowly bleed until its veins run dry
Carving a way for my vexations, though my heart will never be free
To release the tournament of deeply hemorrhaging wounds in me