Short Unsweetened Poems
Short Unsweetened Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Unsweetened by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Unsweetened by length and keyword.
I bought myself four yogurts
by morn they were all eaten
Bought my kids four more
~ unsweetened
Insipid blend of lemon tea
Murky depths unsweetened
In a grubby cup with a dull grey glaze
Cracked rim invisible in the haze
Of an all night cafe on the road.
the lawns are strewn in paradise
roses stained, unsweetened
beauty is bleeding
can we lick these festering sores?
my days are alchemy
as I exhaust to turn a gold
and paradise is falling
The search
Names all experience:
Discomfort searching for comfort
Poverty searching for more
Death searching for life
Unsweetened searching for sweetening
The not-yet searching for already
And on and on..
Then there is that star and
The cradle...
No money to spend.
No gifts to give
I felt I failed my little kid
Then she looked up and smiled,
With nothing under the tree
But a loaf of bread for breakfast
And a cup of unsweetened tea.
She said, I know times are hard.
But I don’t care, I only want Christmas
If you are there.
That was the sweetest part,
Then I realized Christmas come from with in the heart.
I always like it creamy, and a bit zestful
On the pallet with robusta flavor---
Yet, totally unsweetened for now
When daylight gulps in an ache; my coffee
Becomes bitter, nipping my tongue
Like heated grain of yesterday’s spiels---
Angry mouths percolating in the kitchen
While she, in haste, rushes away.
Contest of nette onclaud
A Poem That Did Not Place and More
New---Coffee/ 6 Sept 2015
Manny Paras
Her sour smile, like unsweetened lemonade,
Made its way to me through the crowd.
I grimaced and groaned, ungrateful of her sickly sweet and fake kindness.
Miles of memories of our time together...
The sunrises and sunsets, like a field of flowers in the fading sky...
She left me alone, like Helen for Paris.
My heart went pitter-patter as we passed in the halls.
I'm afraid of being hurt again.
She is nothing but
a black widow for me.
Melody looked lovely sitting on her kick back porch swing this morn
I knew inside was her gorgeous son, a little baby newborn
How had she had time to decorate this gorgeous autumn porch?
She introduced me to her mother, a lady named Mrs. Morch.
Lovely Mrs. Morch had baked scones, and she invited me.
To partake in a snack, along with unsweetened peach tea.
Your porch is terrific, I told the young mother, who nodded her head.
Mom did it while the baby and I were snoring away, she said.