Short Traumatic Poems
Short Traumatic Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Traumatic by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Traumatic by length and keyword.
A soldier,
wounded in wartime,
comes back home,
no welcome,
post traumatic disorder ~
life is living hell.
inner struggles
from traumatic times
in small old towns
outsiders wonder
why she holds onto it
meanwhile she's been searching
for a place to put it down
At the end of a traumatic, dramatic day of awe,
Through a whispering telephone call,
At last, Loving Bill speaks:
"I love you"
And that is all!
I am not Jessica Rabbit,
nor as erasable as a cartoon
We all wash out, eventually
My heroes loving villains
We all wash out
eventually
my intoxicating
blurred fantasy
TERROR
Traumatic injuries to the mind and body
Entering a sphere of darkness
Reruns play over and over
Re-setting the many moments
Of one’s reality
Recanting what was once said
Possibly the most difficult battle I've ever fought.
Timeless struggles of my mind.
Scenes of human depravity lurk behind my closed eyes.
Disturbs my daily routines and demands attention.
enduring
flashbacks
of traumatic experience
of almost drowning;
he swears
he's never going
swimming...
again.
Braising traumatic brain injury pain
easily distracted by too many ads
the sheer notion of being creative
is having a creative space to write
sincerely fight flight beyond plight
Post: the brains reaction, after the fact -
Traumatic - the ugly, sad truth that shook me off track!
Stress; exhaustive intrusions keep me on edge -
Disorder - fear of the nightmare that lives in my head!
Bondage life get you wrapped up in a cage
A love can free you from traumatic haze
You get your life to explore and venture
Obstacles will not be a hindrance for your future
Get out of your trauma and bound of house cage.
MY NEUROLOGIST SAVED MY LIFE TODAY SORRY I WILL NOT STRESS OVER IMMATURE PERSONS SENDING TERRORIST THREATS ON LICENSE PLATES TO A TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURED DISABLED WOMAN TODAY AH TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY RELIEF GOD BLESS AMERICA
Tom Turkey got lost 'midst the teeming flock,
Thus, avoiding the dreaded chopping block!
Hunkering down spared his life,
Averting the carving knife!
He now recovers from traumatic shock!
Insurance took my therapy away
Can't cross a busy street without help
Have severe post-traumatic stress
All I can do right now is write
Struggle to sleep at night
I feel so lonely
No one to trust
Low income
People
Starve
Life has changed so much in merely two weeks
Life was hard and traumatic at times
Now it is just grey with grief
The beauty of friendship is still here,
A sunrise still fills the sky with wonderful colors
But life just feels muted and dingy
Zero to a hundred
Smoke between the ears
An amygdala doing donuts
Simply changing gears
*punch-drunk: Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy
Punch Buggy: a game consisting of punching a person
when a VW Beetle is seen
Tries to kill himself.
Rather die young than
Achieve goals.
Unsure about
Making a bright future.
Acts like a follower but can be a leader.
Tries to get out of trouble but
Instead, continues until something bad happens, then
Cries when not heard.
Around you lost
in sense of time.
I stutter,
most un-poetic,
next words in line
Searching for factors
to ease the threat.
This silhouette sounds
so upset,
so dramatic,
such regret.
The insides
so traumatic.
To your static
I'm an addict.
To say it now
seems so pathetic.
Confused with the lies
Sparkled with the beauty of memories
Have I gone mad?
Stricken along my traumatic stories
Given the hope yet the stars looked sad
Mother, I'm being swallowed by dreadful nightmares
Alive yet soul trapped in its own darkness
Find me, heal me, wake me.
No music
uplifting, soft or loud.
My nerves and liver
have been tenderized
with traumatic alcohol tremors all night.
Be gentle as I descend the stairs
a pale ghost of myself.
No, no fried eggs or smoked kippers!
Black coffee perhaps,
but keep pouring it over my head
until I awake.
"When you carry your inner child within,
you carry your child-like imagination too."
Quote by _Constance
In grandma's attic,
I found imagination.
Life was traumatic . . .
Reading was my salvation,
a pen . . . my fascination !
If muses
have sacred meanings
deeper
and before secular evolving purposes,
As ordained vocations
are to painful employment,
Then what music
would
could
should we prefer outside
to health care inside
digest?
Together peaceful
in resonance
Deeper
and before traumatic
warring
wearied
worn out dissonance.
The Solemn Sparrow Sings a Lonely Song
Swiftly Swaying Sweetly Saying
Soaring the Sky Somewhere Above
Tearing the sky with Terrible Tears
Telling Tales To Those who listen
Taking Time To sound Traumatic
The Solemn Sparrow Sings
Weeping Wearily on the Wings of Heaven
Daring Dully Desiring Death
The Solemn Sparrow Sings
Form:
She painted her memories
in images surreal
Trying to hide scars reality would reveal
A band-aid of illusions
To alleviate the pain,
Some memories are traumatic
with wounds that wont heal
She tries holding back the tears
but the pain she can't conceal
As she paints memories
in images surreal
5-5-2024
Deep down there
where dreams are buried under
the realities of everyday life
I keep going.
Under the bottom
of a dry well
infested with dark craving creatures
smothered over with rusty scraps
of traumatic memories
I keep hoping
Here, there, everywhere
Hugging the earth
I am surrounded
by the spirit
to whom
I keep praying
MULTIPLICITY
a
combined
innocence
something
beautiful
oft traumatic
yet
figurative
to
represent
a
freewheeling
spirit
charmingly
gentle
yet
with
an unworldly
quality
collides
to portend
in
the blatant
isolation
a thesis
drifting
a happening
reaping
benefits
a
setting
continued
throughout
then
evaporated