Traumatised Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Crazy

Crazy!!

You’re driving me crazy, insane, mad, what a bam bam, 
Anxiety have your psychologist, psychiatrist lead me to your promised land.

You're driving me crazy, insane, mad. 
You have me on the borderline, jumpy, stressed, depressed, oppressed, traumatised victimized troubled, PTSD

You're driving me crazy, insane, mad.
Can't walk, can't talk, can't run, can't sing, can't dance, 
Can't look, not a chance no remarks 

You're driving me crazy insane, mad with your fancy freedom plan like a one man band, you have destroyed all my plans

You're driving me crazy, insane, mad.
Stab me in the back claimed you're trying to save me from self-attack; 
Slit wrist, body mutilation but you're the one with the dagger in the hand

Am I crazy, insane, mad?

You're driving me crazy insane mad.
Have me battered, strangled, kidnapped, shot, manipulated, 
lynched, isolated, incarcerated for crimes you have perpetrated 

You're driving me crazy insane, mad.
But am I really crazy, insane, mad or is this a part of your systemic plan?

Premium Member Freedom's Fragile Chains

Overcrowded prisons,
brings joy to early released criminals.
Taxpayers may be happy,
but there's predators at playgrounds,
rapists at bars,
stalkers, stalking,
violent hooligans back at matches,
abusers contacting their exes,
jealous lovers beating new spouses.
Mobs on the streets,
will only bring mayhem,
unless vigilantes rise,
whilst the police hide.
Who will protect the traumatised victims?

Premium Member Blamed and Shamed

 “When you’re blamed and shamed for something you didn’t do, 
remember the one who looks out for you, He knows the truth”
Long ago when I was in junior school
I was made to look a ludicrous fool
A note was passed around, from desk to desk
Guess who got the blame when it came to rest.

It was me of course, teacher called me out
I got the blame for handing the note out
The culprit never owned up, he or she
And no one at all came forward for me.

The note said that so and so loved someone 
The names on the note from mind have long gone 
Deep down I knew that teacher disliked me
It was how she spoke to me nastily.

Too shy to say what I needed to say
On that horrid embarrassing school day
Not one classmate spoke up in my defence
The instigator had no penitence.

That teacher picked on me for any thing
She didn't care how much her brusque words could sting
So I was tarnished with the blame and shame
If only I had that time back again.

Teachers are sure to be fully aware
Some pupils are in need of tender care
Living their lives already traumatised 
Needing love and not to be stigmatised.


It's a Good World

We can achieve so much if we support each other and work together for the best outcome and future of our planet.

It's a good world
By Michelle Morris
20/03/2021

It's a good world,
But it's filled with too many broken people, 
Traumatised by the ones who seek power for their egos... 

Yes, a good world, before the destruction of our innocence by those 
Enigmatic spheres of greed and wrongful influence...

Oh, yes, a good world, capable of so much more, 
If we could delete all the ignorance and hurtful, uncaring norms... 

Oh, indeed, a good world, if we can all work together, and
Bless everyone and all life on earth,
always and forever...

© Michelle Morris, 2021

Premium Member Ultroneous

I raised my hand and said ‘it is enough’
For far too long I have been traumatised
No longer welcome are thoughts crass and rough
I refuse to live a life compromised

With thoughts rested, ego cravings are slain
Habit patterns of old too fade away
Living in the now, I’m a child again
To the rhythm of my soul, I gently sway

I drive but without a rear view mirror
Spontaneity is my middle name
Life is what it is, the truth is clearer 
Give it any name but I’m not the same

Bliss mists suffuse form as magic of love ~
Dewdrops of God’s grace pour in from above

Being Neutral

Sometimes you can neglect your neutral play 
When you are in a traumatised  community
While many people appreciate your work secretly 
And continue learning from you covertly.

Neutrality is opposite of rivalry 
But it can turn to be casualty 
When the role seems perplexity 
In the eyes of few people who identify 
That neutrality is voluntary charity without faulty 
But they standing to complicate things calculatingly.

July 31/2023


The Effects of Media On a Traumatised Brain

I had the strangest of dreams 
They happend in the land overseas 
Usually called the land of the free
Even though I have never been 
There were familiar people and daddy issues
My father tried to pick some prostitutes 
Then puked on my bed 
In real life he is a strong christian 
Familiar sins , disorders, secrets and  bad feelings 
My childhood crush was trans sexual 
I did her like I Wanted to impress her 
Rubbed her dick then did the deed  I was Into that
I felt some shame but I am glad it happened 
I see no sin in that except the things we do for love 
In real life my girlfriend is sleeping cute like a bear
It is so sad  there really is no God here 
A whole dispenser water bottle was full of Bourbon liquor
Ash on the table it looked like we had a party it was clear
In real life  am not even American
Yet My dreams happen in America
Is this just media or am I going to need a doctor 
Is it just Netflix plus Pornhub and a dirty crush on Contra
It is just media and maybe I should keep the trauma 
Gives me nice poems from a America 
In real life it's 2am in Kenya

Premium Member -A Young Life Taken

~In Honour of……

~Stella Berry a 16year old girl who passed away from a shark attack on ~Saturday 4th of February 2023 in the Swan River at North Fremantle,
~ Perth, Western Australia.


Sixteen with a life ahead
Went to the river with friends
Sadly now she is dead.

In the river having fun 
Riding a jet-ski
Her life ended that day before it really begun

Off the jet-ski to the water she jumped in
When she saw a pod of dolphins
Close to them she wanted to swim

Terrifying screams filled the air
The water turned red
A predator had attacked from nowhere

Tragedy struck that day
Death and trauma occurred
In the most horrific way

Words cannot express the sadness felt
For this beautiful young girl
And the unfair , tragic card she was dealt

Her family and friends distraught with pain
Their lives changed forever
Never to be the same

The state of Western Australia is mourning
For a sixteen year old girl named Stella
Her life just ended without warning

So many lives traumatised , changed for evermore
One decision made …..
Stella’s loved ones will never be as before

Premium Member Zen Mode

traumatised within the lucid dream
why do we then wake up so relieved
did we not in the play enacted bleed
subtly shifted are emotes we stream

miniaturised within this mind-body form
not quite bliss replete, we feel incomplete
heart yet feels joy in victory, pain in defeat
bilocating as voidness within each storm

hypnotists count down from ten to one
that we awake bringing back in cognition
each nuance of bestowed polarity ignition
transformed by the light of the central sun

01-November-2022

Refugee Story

Those are my shoes
I keep then neat
To remind of when
I had both feet;
But I am alive
Not like my brother
Nor traumatised
Like my sisters and mother.

I’ve not seen my father
Since that day
They came and took
Us both away.
They said they were fighting
To set us free
But what they did before
They took father and me.

They didn’t tell that all around
They’d scattered mines on the ground.
When I escaped I stood on one
I lost both feet with one leg gone;
But I survived I’m lucky they say
One of the few that got away.

They say with luck
I’ll soon walk
But I don’t believe I’ll ever
Ever ever want to talk.
They are very nice to me here
In this camp,so very kind.
They leave me in peace
To gather my mind.

They are teaching me to write
So maybe one day I can tell
About my life and times
In captives hell.
I won’t go to church
Or sing hymns or pray
They were believers they said
Who took me and father away.

So,I clean my shoes
And keep them neat
To remind of when 
I had both feet,
And life was good
And we were free.
And I had all of 
My family around me.

Life Running Among Pages of Time Book

Life is running among the Pages of time book
Is the journey easy as it looks?
Well the journey is through a flowery/thorny Brook
At times, life runs through flowers and is happy like a snook
While at times, it runs through thorns and is shook.

In its journey, life runs for things which Captivate it but never come to it
In spite of being traumatised, it keeps running without quit
Keeping trauma aside, it brings optimism within it 
With full vigour of optimism, it runs again for making itself a big hit.

Through its Sweet /bitter run, life has learnt to feel free and fierce
In its journey up till Now, life has learnt to run through flowery/thorny Brook without tears
Now life runs through the thorns and they seem scared as to them it is a mighty bear
It seems that thorns have accepted life as a bear without fear.

Heavens

The heavens opened up for him and the rain began to pour
They took the lives of many good, thieving more and more,
And traumatised so many are suppressing all the pain
From colonised craziness and wickedness, the same.

Everyone needs healing from all that they were taught
Suppression will be surfaced from brainwashing of thought,
And time again we’ll see it all the remnant of the wheel
If we do not recognise the damage done and heal.

Though saying all won’t bring them back to us where they belong
Tremendous is the grief from others dealing wrong,
I understand though confused by what they think they'll gain…
To thrust upon another mere misery and pain.

How can they walk proud and tall whilst emanating evil?
They brood they're doing right when raising such upheaval?
Now needed time to knock a few of them from their high horses
Withstanding ill imposters to strengthen natural sources.

Black is black and white is white hence why the controversy?
Righteousness must prevail, justice, grace, and mercy,
Responsibility enforced to prevent the rain 
Where heavens open up for us before our time again.

Ongoing

Ongoing 
The pretty lady screams
KILL ME NOW!!!
Putin’s bombs just murdered her baby
What life will the young mum have now?
In a shattered country war death hate killing
The bastard waited decades for this 

And acted not caring the cost 
Of Russia’s neighbouring nation
Plus thousands of dead Russian soldiers
Let the traumatised lady be an example
Of what it’s like to be in Putin’s war

Like the husband’s family also killed
By Putin’s mortar bombs while waiting
To flee their devastated homeland
Remember them all make him pay
For every single death and injury
And ruined town and city…

The Price of a Poem

what’s the price of a poem
in cash, blood, sweat and tears
what experience suffered
how many months and years

what’s it worth to you
and will you be touched, pleased 
will it explain, elucidate
will all your fears be eased

and did you see it coming
and appreciate it’s being
I think I wrote it for you
you are seeing what you’re seeing 

if everything I ever
wrote, thought, memorised 
came flooding back to haunt
I would be traumatised

and the pain that brings
the poem, screaming
tricks me into thinking
I was only ever dreaming

so, what’s the price of a poem
a collection of words skewed
up, down, all over the place
studied, read, discarded, viewed

it’s not the sentiment you leave
when you close the book
that moment came, happened, went
and you had to look

poems? ten a penny
a sad f*cker scribbling
giving his best, his darkest
and left dribbling

psst, want to buy a poem?
it’s price is negotiable
it won’t change your world
and is not guaranteed reliable.

18.1.2020 11:13am

Premium Member Remember

Remember when you wake up each morn
There are those who'll never see the dawn
The brave who gave their lives so that we
Could live out our today's peacefully . . .

No standing out in the pouring rain
No seeing the sun come shine again
No rainbows painted upon the sky
No stars gleaming bright when night is nigh.

No wedding bells chime, no wedding rings
No happy family gatherings
No tiny hands to cherish and hold
No nursery rhymes or stories told.

No arms to give a tender embrace
No kisses upon a special face
No whispering of sweetest nothings
No excited homecoming buzzing.

Remember families that have grieved
For loved one's who were sadly deceased
Tragically hurt or traumatised
Precious sons, daughters, husbands and wives.

Remember!

11th November 2020

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