Weary Poems - Poems about Weary

Arrived alive departed dead and the same may be said of all who tread this weary world of ours less a milestone more a speed bump each Birthday I perceive and poetry is but one way to fill the waning hours for me ...

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Birthday, Christmas Day, Fourth of July Easter Sunday, Thanksgiving, ain’t gonna lie Holiday, Holy Day, Fifth Monday Every day, all day, not a fun day Each day, every day is Judgement Day Each day, every day is Judgement Day They look at you They weigh you They measure you Any way they can They find you wanting They find you lacking They find you missed the mark Best...

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My dream catcher cries with the intake of these fears. This web is weary. Expunging all this dead weight, what a harsh burden to bare. My friend wove a spell translating to protection. Solace in the dark. Look at what hangs high above, the gift of peaceful slumber. Is desire enough? Will we wake with folded hands? This web is...

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Being weary of our direction No guidance which way to go We cried out Lord please help us He pointed His finger, that way now go With the new land of milk and honey We grew dependent upon the Lord He gave us all we needed And continued to give us more Thank You Lord for Your goodness We'll remember Your kindness indeed Oh Lord...

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Yes ,yes I was a precious soul Turned to a flower that's slowly decaying My roots are dead and gone Can only draw waters when I'm praying The stars allign enough to keep me breathing but never enough to keep me away from grieving I'm a question mark in motion when it comes to the act of living Sometimes wishing to...

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The palace of love we built ~ when our blood still flowed very warm in our veins, is now a crumbled castle — its walls with peeled paints and decayed wood; a jaded clock and faded photographs ...

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Staring at the mirror’s image, I see what others see; but can they see the need for love so deep inside of me? I hear my laughter just as loudly as those who see my smile; but can they hear the tinge of sadness that lingers for awhile? My posture mocks a stately stance, my gait is smooth and free; but can they see the...

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Silence, like a glass thrown up in the air Then exploding, its shards like a nagging echo Raining on a heart, and it's so unfair To bleed for love that is not there... Is there, Through this weary way of silence, I must go. I would turn around then I would not turn around, Your smile and glances...

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I don't choose the muse the muse chooses me but when I need her most then whereabouts is she abandoned and self-mocked not word one could I pen with writer's block my fate cast to the wind but if the wraith had knocked as does opportunity I couldn't tell on the other hand her silence rings a bell so left to my own devices of weft warp and weave forged...

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We can no longer continue as we are, souls weary from nerves, creatures grinding their lives in worries, fearing death because they have never truly lived. We have lost ourselves in the maps of days, searching for treasures that do not shine under the sun, and we have forgotten how to sip from the morning as from a...

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MARTY KING when i needed a friend all skies were black my head could only bend down i could never look up then came you as sunshine i realized that you were God's Sign light came into the darkest part of the mine Friend Till The End and Now I Ascend SHENIKA SIMS when i needed to be loved the devil mainly controlled the weather every bone...

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In a realm of tranquil illusions, weary spirits find thrones of comfort, Lives frozen in monotonous dances, dolls forgotten in the windows of dead time, Middle-aged souls, ghosts of lost hope, nestle into routine, The leaden embrace of stagnation promises them an eternity of divine peace. Deep within the soul, fear sneaks in like an underground stream, The fear that...

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Weary Is My Mind I promise, I swear, I will never, I will always That blaring sentiment of a pattering ghost that I detest Among the empty hollowing of her mouth and eyelids There lies darkness deep and unending that I fell into once, never again. Baffled and naked, afraid and convinced I was nearing my hearse She runs screaming, yelping...

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I look at the wall I see nothing I hear whispers Yet there is silence My Faith grows weak Belief I don’t seek Wondering if God even cares Is it worth to pray? Waiting and waiting with no change If, when and how are not communicating Tears pour The heart turns sour Beyond seems still No movement to fulfill Weary goes on and on But for how long? Stubbornness comes on My...

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As the day bade its circadian farewell, the fleeing sun Pulled its last glow from weary war-worn trees. On distant plains, vacant honeycombs no longer buzz With the songs of industrious bees:- The thunder of exploding weapons rains down dreaded...

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