Sickest Poems | Examples

Disrespect

Living is a lesson
The dead do not speak
Yet I find the sickest thought is the emotion of disrespect
You don't know me
Some never will
Yet I ride life's emotionally rollercoaster
Like a cheap thrill
Do they cross the line of no return
When you don't exercise what you feel
When you play make sure you win
Because the adversary is definitely real

To Sleep

The scourge  of  the worker
saviour of the parent
The comfort to the sickest
vocation of the errant 

Sleep can bring such varied thoughts
Both sweet and terrifying 
From dreams of love and laughter 
To when nightmares leave us crying

Refreshment to tiredness
Relief to the pain
Soothing to sadness
Again and again

Slowing of breathing
Closing of eyes
Stillness of movement 
And rest is the prize

Pain

Something that I see in the world

That I feel in my hand

That matters to me

The taste is so bland

So I feel it in the dirt 

I feel it in the sand

I felt it on his heart 

I hated that man

I smelled it in his clothes

I seen it in his face

A hell of a world I had to embrace

I felt it in his life

And then when he passed

I seen it in his eyes

I came so fast 

Seen him in the wind

I tasted the dust

The sickest of all creations 

His end was a must

For it is him I never will trust 

For he is my pain.






Sincerely, The Sun

Poetry Intends Not Be Fake

Poetry pretends it's not pain,
but it feels like it's deep
pure metaphor...
Not only rhyme deep pain
that lifts the soul
in suffering profound
 and that is
sickest thing
to make poetry... !

Nay Sayer

Immersed unprepared and unaware in the wrelm of torture, raised by the tormented and confused, told to smile while our cheeks are bruised, creating pariahs out of those who dare to say nay to the way of things ,how dare they not just sway with things while the sickest get away with things

Abusers and Mis-Users

We are snarly, and we’re gnarly,
We’re twisted, and we’re mean.
We smack you with our branches,
And we keep our real selves unseen.

We’re awful, and we’re terrible,
You had better keep your children away.
Because we’ll hold them, and we’ll fold them,
And we’ll never let them run away.

We are the meanest and the baddest,
And the most unhappy ones around.
And the sickest and the saddest,
You will wish your children never found.

Except on Christmas week, when we turn all nice and sweet.
Except when we come to your house, and with you we fast compete.
We are the pretenders, the liars, the thieves, the psychopaths galore.
Where are you going? I am not lying. She really cannot come to the door.

The Darkness

It's not as bad as everyone thinks
If you really think about it, it's the only thing that's really there for you
It's one of the greatest things in life
Yes, it can be scary, but it's also exciting
It feast on you in a timely manner
It hugs you in your sickest moments
The darkness

The City of Troy

Troy as a city of darkness
has his underlings
teaching the ways of wickedness
How to treat woman like playthings
His enticement of arena games
Watch me boys
See what I can get away with
We're on the night shift
In my cloak of playfulness
Tickle their feet and watch then giggle
As they dangle from a ladder
Eye them up longingly for the thrill
A medieval knight of the darkest kind
Watch your skirts girls
He'll come from behind
Playing his jokes of the sickest kind

How I Feel

Im disgusted to my sickest illness of judgemental, criticizer that plot my situation's that mode everything i sculpt and cannot stay nuetural in the there zones point fingers to blame yourself in a decision thats not made right to there satisfaction which may not be granauteed which there's a false situation that dont make since or just still  like and paraplegics. But as i move to be grounded to move forward as i play in an formation of since ability to maintain my process and knowing my faults of my doings but to prejudge my conception of my life ratification but to ratify all the madness that happened upon me overall as i careless what people may solidify or cruel intention on my inflictions that cant chance what i say nor what i think but people love to critics in critical standpoints that doesn't have a point or appointed judgement to as i judge and bang the gavel to maintain my decision in how i may direct my action thats scene's in a movie that i direct and co- write so vivid in my views...

Step Forward

The sickest branches are easiest to spot, 
by the damaged bark and the smell of rot
our shears are poised to trim and cut
the blades are opened and then snapped shut

But some, appear benign and healthy
their disease is sometimes sly and stealthy,
are these the ones that most need pruning,
if one's soul's to get a proper grooming? 

A lie that's told to soften the blow
resentments kept by a fragile ego,
love withheld or trust denied,
oh, what's to trim can be hard to decide

No rationales and no self-pity,
no trusted friends, no sub-committees,
a mirror and a cold, bright light
may bring the truth into plain sight

Then chop and change, oh gardener!
With that comes growth, a spirit freer;
a heart that's rid of darkened places
makes life a lighter, gentler space

See Me

See me rest in peace with 'the sickest' on my tomb stone. See me running up to the enemy while you've gone prone. You've got to be strong in the mind as well as the soul. No other enemy's will know what you know. See me defending you. As of right now our best option is to stay true.

See me by you're side when the sky went black. I'll be here right when the devil chooses to attack. Take what you want there will be no going back. Now what you need to focus on is survival. You need to gain strength if you're going to survive along side you're rival's. They'll try to push you down. I have faith that you wield a force strong enough to take the almighty crown. Now let's try and be real. I don't know how to say this. But i have messed up our deal.

I was supposed to give you Happiness and The Human Breed. Instead i gave you Untrue peace and Eternal greed. Remember these tactics they will help you fight the battle. When the enemy is upon do not shake make a noise or rattle. Me and You can help fight the world's problem's. Even if it hurt's when we see the outcome. But I love you son and i will always be with you. I hope to see you're staying Good Proud And True.

Wrong One

I know him well; I don’t know him at all,
The truth of it all is that I know he did fall,
Broken affliction,
 sickest addition,
Overly compromised, 
emotionally paralyzed,
The heart that has many faces,
Every part was all wasted,
The eyes never lie,
Even if they cry,
Appears as an Angel of light,
Spoiling my appetite,
As a roaring lion,
His bark is much louder than his bite,
I knew in my spirit something wasn’t right,
Fragmented from birth,
Defective from life,
Lives to cause others to have internal strife,
Dejected and rejected,
Too bad for those who are subjected,
It’s ashame it has to be this way,
But it’s only by the Father,
That redemption can fix the bed where he lays,
Once you reject your maker, there is nothing left to say,
You're destined to spend all of eternity in complete decay,
For there is only one great "I Am",
He is the beginning and the end,
The first unforgivable sin,
Was to think that you could possibly win,
The Great Divine is watching all,
Vindication is his final call,
Braking bondage,
Strengthening the weak,
Giving back the voice to all who can’t speak,
Mighty power, eternal grace,
Healing all that have been misplaced.

By. Sabina

Lyrical Lord

As hard as it seem,  
My verse reign supreme,
Myself and I, am the illest,
My flow is the sickest,
I spit hot-lava fire,
Never think of retire,
Hell-bent to succeed,
Haters call me demon seed,
But their opinions don't matter,
I'm too far up the ladder,
Like french-fries I fry 'em,
Sixteen bars I eat 'em,
Fools run from this storm,
I'm a lyrical god in human form,
After me there'll be none,
'Cause I kill 'em one-by-one!

Araignée

They believed her to be the harlot of the 15th century.
Heedless to the mask; 
They trusted the persona of an undervalued whore taken for a fool.

Her name was Araignée.
A deceitful insect she was when the sun went down,
Stirring poisons in her cauldron.
But then they found her,
Bound her; before things were complete.
They blamed her for the curses,
Blamed her for the plague.

She accepted her fate
When they opened the gate,
Hanging her inches off the ground.

Death is only the beginning. 

And what the town failed to see
Was a witch inside an innocent body.
Overruling her mind,
All emotions immobilized.

Today I speak of the spider that crawls the halls of my insides.
Her tightly spun webs captured my brain’s freedom long ago.
Not but an easy task for she’s done it times before.

And the sickest part of it all is 
Feeling repulsed by the comfort from her company
When she climbs right out my mouth onto my shoulder.

Together we’ll sit under the moon’s majestic glow, conspiring “our” next move.
She wonders for us both: 
Will they blame me for the curses? 
Will they blame me for the plague?

Presence Attendants

Ghosts fix me smiling
in lists compiling
each shedding of whim
until my soul shouts
to wrangle false doubts
while watching the skim

in dollar and pound
with no one around
authorized by need
to resurrect life
by seizing the knife
from unholy greed.

The system won't fail
since cash pays to bail
the sickest of thieves
intent on scheming
while ads cure dreaming
until no one grieves

for all that got lost
while shifting the cost
away from this shore
to wake up one day
with all stripped away
as victims of war.

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