Pain Spoken Word Poems | Examples
These Pain Spoken Word poems are examples of Spoken Word poems about Pain. These are the best examples of Spoken Word Pain poems written by international poets.
In the dawn's gentle light, I see my mistake,
On our special day, I caused your heartache.
Forgive my foolishness, my words out of line,
I never meant to tarnish our love's shine.
With every breath, I regret the pain I caused,
In moments of anger, reason was paused.
But in the morning's glow, I see clear,
I'm sorry, my love, for my actions sincere.
Let me make amends, let me make it right,
I'll hold you close through the darkest night.
For in your embrace, I find my peace,
My love for you will never cease.
swirls around my
finds my
bottom right incisor.
jagged
pulls away
[bite down]
finds my
bottom right incisor.
bloodied
bottom right incisor.
[swirl, swirl, swirl, swirl, swirl, sw
The poet knows that broken things
still catch and hold the light,
that even shattered verses
can illuminate the night.
We write our way through tangled thoughts,
untangle knots with rhyme,
transform the chaos in our minds
to music, line by line.
Each word a small rebellion
against the urge to hide,
each poem proof that even pain
can blossom into pride.
So let the ink flow freely
through the labyrinth of care—
for in the act of writing down,
we learn that we are there.
Not lost, not gone, not broken past
the power to create,
but human, whole, and worthy of
the stories we translate.????????????????
Have you not wondered why we close the door,
Why silence wraps the ones we used to crave?
Not out of spite, or pride, or keeping score
But just to stop the heart from being brave.
For if I see your name, I start to reach,
My fingers trace the hope I try to hide.
An anxious heart, no logic it can teach,
It runs toward fire, even as it’s fried.
The photos, texts, each one a quiet plea,
A ghost that holds me fast in aching place.
So blocking you sets wounded spirit free,
Not hate, but love that knows it must give space.
I do not block because I wish you pain,
I block because I won’t survive the strain.
I open my mouth
My anger spills out
I say things I don’t mean
And mean things I won’t say
Damage
Oh such damage
Strangers or friends
Words I can’t defend
Family is broken
From words that I’ve spoken
When will it end?
Damage
Too much damage
So conflicted
I’ve inflicted
So much hurt
So much pain
Words like weapons
Sharper than knives
Killing dreams
Shredding lives
Damage
Unjustified
Unspeakable
Damage
Bludgeoning words
Shattered spirits
Wounded hearts
Crippled lives
Killing words
Chilling words
Handful of syllables
Damage
“Why are you so obsessed?
It’s just love — why suffer that much?”
A patient
who just had a stroke.
What do you expect them to say
but not being able to move?
I tried to feel sorry
to understand
the first time
you told me about her —
your loyal, broken
love story.
You waited for her
at the same old bus stop,
for hours,
cried under the rain.
While I cried over love
Just a few times
You called it cheap,
called it needy
That I can’t give up
sticking to it.
Guess you’ve never been dumb
for love.
Guess you never devoted
your whole heart to it.
Once in a decade
You may never fall for it
I’m not outstanding
Not your someone out there
I’m just part of the crowd
Sharing the pain
You have never felt
You gave me hope
To satisfy yourself
not your heart or soul
but your lower parts
So what do you know?
…
The villain wasn't always a villain.
Once upon a time, they laughed like sunlight on pebbles in a river,
Heart soft and eyes wide with wonder.
But the world sharpened its teeth against them.
An act of Betrayal and a wound, and a silence for too long.
They reached out and called for aid,
No one responded.
So, they built walls by way of broken trust, hid their heart in the dark, and learned to use pain like a tool.
Now we call them a monster,
but ask yourself this instead-
Who's the monster that hurt them first?
~hira~
Let me tell you something they don't teach you in fairy tales,
Let me deliver a message you can’t find in the mail,
something your grandmother should have whispered in your ear
before you went looking for love in all the wrong faces, spaces, empty-places.
Love does not hurt.
you've heard the songs that make suffering sound romantic,
seen the movies where passion means pain,
been told that jealousy is just love wearing different clothes.
But listen…
Love does not break your ribs to make room for itself.
Love does not leave fingerprints on your throat
or make you apologize for breathing too loudly.
Love does not ask you to shrink
Love does not control or tell you how to think
until you fit inside someone else's idea of beautiful.
Hearts crushed and broken.
Words unspoken.
Still the pains remain.
Words left unsaid
Could heal instead
but left the ones in pain.
The time to run
to make undone
the damage in the chain.
To speak the unspoken.
To heal what is broken.
Forgiveness is the gain.
this is Davie and Caroline's podcasting story, this is not for fame nor for glory,
this is the chance to give you the shout, telling people what its all about,
your the voice that we want to hear, whither its about theft drugs or even beer,
your the one that has the voice, we are hear to give you that choice,
we will listen to every word, opening the mike and you sing like a bird,
if your story is sad and blue, we want to hear what's happened to you,
your pain in the world or good fortune to, we want to hear and listen to you,
we may ask questions that may seem right or wrong,
we want to hear what's really going on,
so come on over and give us a shout,
we will tell you what our podcasting's about,
your the voice and we are your ears,
even if something happened back a many a years,
so this is Caroline's and Davies tune,
all our listeners want to hear what's happened to you,
so take your time, and say it loud, no shame on what your life's about,
Made from Adam’s rib
Eve became glib
when asked why she ate from the tree
Blaming the snake
Who was even glibber than she
she delivers children with pain ~
as God spake
I'm not sure when you left,
but my guess is, it's been a process
from the beginning.
Maybe the moment you left heaven's presence
you longed for its essence,
and left unnoticed?
Or was it when your freedom fell,
taken from the grips of hell,
and all it taught you to believe about yourself,
and life?
Or maybe when the one you
felt could change all that,
did change all that,
and left himself?
So, so did you?
Or, was it when your dad left?
Or maybe when the very definition of God
was crushed under betrayal's menacing vengeance?
Your dependence on yourself was your downfall,
you know.
And now, there's no feeling left at all.
The more you left,
the more I was left wandering,
left wondering,
how to find someone who desires to remain in the shadows
She wears her silence like a veil
Stitched with echoes of nights unseen,
Where shadows whisper fractured tales,
Of love that turned to something mean,
A heart once full, now torn between.
His voice, a storm that splits the sky,
His hands, a thunderclap of pain
Apologies like fleeting sighs
Washed away yet fall again
A cycle spun in endless chain.
Behind closed doors, the world is blind,
To screams that never reach the light,
She paints her face, she speaks in kind
Hides the bruises out of sight,
Convinced that love should feel this tight
But love should never be a cage
Nor hands a shackle to endure
No kiss should ever taste of rage
Nor words be blades that cut impure
Love is not a wound to cure
One day the silence cracks apart
She finds her voice, she dares to breathe,
Steps beyond the past so dark
Where fists no longer weave her grief,
Where love is kind and love is free
Hear the way I sound,
a harmonious hum,
a rhythm that beats with every dream,
every fear, and every whim.
My voice, a canvas of emotions,
a tapestry woven with threads of joy and pain,
of love and loss, of laughter and of tears.
When my poetry speaks,
the world is hushed,
Even soul great and small is uplifted
That was once stuck.
As if the very wind itself paused to listen,
to absorb the vibrations of my being,
to harmonize with the song that is me.
Hear the way I sound,
and let your own voice be amplified,
for in the echoes of my soul,
you may find the resonance that sets your spirit free."
I find an album with matt thick black pages
my wet eyes hungry for each pose of this girl
in pigtails with a reluctant kitty, then on a bike
in a pretty prom dress, then holding a baby, me
turning the pages your smiles become frauds
your skin wrinkled, your pain quiet and graceful