The Fact Poems - Poems about The Fact

In courts where lies weave their tails, And justice seems a distant dream, There lies the fate of souls confined, By trials flawed and justice blind. Florida, hear their muted cries, Beneath the endless, azure skies, Restore the truth, make wrongs undone, Illuminate their moonless sun. A second glance, a careful eye, To see what justice might belie, Review each case with earnest heart, For fairness...

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Yeah I did not congratulate on your birthday and forgot how old you got, Yeah I did not made comments on the jacket you wore I always found beatifully, Yeah I did not anymore admire your eyes and call them sun over ocean, Yeah I did not hype you up, Yeah I did not help you...

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In Bethlehem's manger, a humble abode, A savior was born, the son of our God. No sleigh bells, no reindeer, just a star shining bright, Guiding the wise men through the tranquil night. A babe in a stable, no grandeur or gold, Yet His story through ages, a timeless unfold. Not Santa with his beard of snowy white,...

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seventy five years of Israeli destruct burning in Palestine...

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seventy five years of killing, Israel has invaded Palestine...

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A heavy rain wipes away the history of a pavement. On a splashing surface it dashes off an abstract and flowing script. Watermarks thunder fleetingly only to ricochets away to stir the wordless with more fluid symbols. I have seen rain write on mud, moving punctuation marks around with a drenching aplomb. Symbols mix and meld until an exclamation mark explodes in a shower of meaningful...

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that there is always a price for whatever is done every day whatever has been done today whatever will be done in the future is often said but unfortunately, unknown by whom and in what way all will be paid...

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Secret eyes hide behind a smile the jokers grin masking a deliberate betrayal Misdirection and diversion the covert sneak offender working in the hush-hush thinking the fooled will never know any better Trust the stiletto when the lips are sealed and silencing is the fault of liars when they are revealed How the sleepless ballet tip toes through the night swirling in a caul of suspected lies but the eyes of...

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The Fact(s) It started with a poem. Penned in by mistake. Then it ended up in a letter, that later turned into an email. That was forwarded, not once but a thousand, and then ten million times. Then someone was asked, what it all meant. They were floored by the fact, no one knew. But some...

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Life with love is full of miracle without it appears to be not human it is the love that makes a life dynamic. Going for love is duty of every human dutibound in love is lovely and dynamic love is a quality of God and it is a miracle. Love is a natural thing and makes one dynamic it brings two near...

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Disrespectful people Most often bombard you With horrible things to say and actions To harm you Then try to entrap and annoy you With wicked plots, scams and schemes Then try to thoroughly destroy you And your hopes, plans and dreams Constantly causing you Grief, pain & strife As if you're not even a human being And unworthy of life But little do they know You are about...

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Scientists have established the fact, that all dinosaurs looked pretty the same, Just some idiots- with lack of the luck, Assembled them in the different ways!...

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It's not the way you look at me Or how your hair blows in the breeze It's not how you smile like a night on the town Or the skip of my heart when you are around It's not in the way that you beautifully dress Although I am always beyond impressed It's not any of those although they're nice It's more...

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POEM 14 THE FACT ABOUT LIFE THIS IS A OLD WISE TRUE FACT ABOUT LIFE EVERY ONE WANT YOU WHEN DOWN AND OUT DON’T BE SURPRISE OF THE FRIENDS IT WILL BRING WHEN YOU ARE UP, YOU ARE UP YOU WILL BE TREATED LIKE A KING OR A QUEEN AS SUCH WHEN YOU ARE DOWN...

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Villanelle : Who rules what is or what’s not after the fact Who rules what is or what’s not after the fact The first poem struck wasn’t it a cry of hope Words gushing from constricting throats militant act Who must with calipers measure the creative act Draws hot blood choking in dungeons where poets lost grope Who rules what is...

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