Well Worn Poems - Poems about Well Worn

Well, Loved

Like old paint,
the discarded heart chips away
where it lay
in a hollow chest
not unlike my own breast.

In its prime,
untainted by sin
and made of sheepskin,
its candy apple hue
captivated everyone—especially the likes of you.

However, who now
could admire a color
so mottled by misuse and so drastically duller?
Verily, no unclouded eye could find merit
in such a sorry trinket.

Bad Habit

"Holey all over,
seen better days,
worn out and threadbare,
can't mend its ways,
with drink spills and food stains,
rips, rents and tears,
not worth keeping,
a sad state of affairs,
its time has come,
over and done,
that's one bad habit,”
so said the nun.

John Michael Osbourne

John Michael Osbourne
looks so tired and worn
when asked to respond
he could only say something no one could understand

Depression

Is that ok to live with all the same conclusions
Or is it like worn clothes when you do not
Care what to wear in your goddamn seclusion 
And like the old familiar recipies you’ve got
You see no change, its all the same old stories
Most likely, you can’t notice any changes
For otherwise it goes to different category
You

Worn Out Relic

O Lord,
'Tis a decade gone
Since thy curse fell upon us.
The malnourished children are no more,
The poor soil lieth barren.
Lord, what hast thou wrought upon our village?
Mine only companions be the flies and the toads.
Thy shadow resteth beside mine empty grave.
I am not wroth with thee,
Yet surely have I all the right to be so.

This morning, I packed my soul into a backpack worn by unfulfilled dreams

This morning, I packed my soul into a backpack worn by unfulfilled dreams,
Leaving behind the noise of the city that grinds my existence like a rusty windmill.
I set out on unknown roads, where silence weaves spider webs between reality and dreams,
And my shadow dances alone on the hot asphalt, like a memory from a future

Light Through Shadows: A Minichu Tale

The chains of yesterday, now worn and frail,
Once heavy, they are lightened with each day.
In freedom's early light, our hearts set sail.

New dawns unfold with skies of hopeful blue,
Each sunrise brings fresh dreams to light anew.
The world awaits a chance to start anew.

Yet echoes of the past can softly bind,
Whispers of old fears that linger

Shiney Covers, Worn Pages

A silent cry never heard, a tear shed without a single word, You'll only see her smile.
 A fragile heart filled with scars, bruised and beaten and Simply marred. You'll only see her smile.
 Shadows and nightmares consume her thoughts, the demons prey her soul is lost. You'll only see her smile.
 Stitched together with

The Heart Worn Lips

"The Heart Worn Lips"

She wore her heart on her lips as she spoke
the white owl sitting on one shoulder hooting wisdom
the black crow perched on the other hidden in shadow cawing dark things

the voice made moderate in the in-between
rolling out into the aether words like dice
flying to land like black-winged strokes on a wholesome alabaster

Pearls-Well Worn and Read

Well worn and read, “The Pearl.”
The end. I’ll start at the beginning.
Strung pearls around my neck -
I dare
to wear them to the library.
My coworker has to tell me,
she only wears hers to church.
Well, I’ll be. These came straight
from China, not free
but not expensive.
Sparknotes, my friend,
reminds me that a great find, a precious jewel
might hang about

wooden spoon worn smooth

wooden spoon worn smooth
calloused hands’ enduring tool
sleeps in a drawer

Animals point of view of worn fence

camouflaged hiding 
fence links used to sharpen teeth 
and scratch behind ears

Worn fence

ragged wooden fence 
playground for passing squirrels 
eyesore for owner

Worn Out

Once again, worn out
From the simple act of living
Blown out of all held dear
Waves come and go
Stretching across time and space
A tragic loss here
A triumphant gain there
And still the waves come
Lapping at a shore
That is time itself 
Manifest in a million little grains
Lapping as I lay exhausted 
Too tired to think, too tired to feel
Anything

Worn Out Working Out

My workouts just get tougher,
The older that I get.
All the pains that I suffer,
Just trying to stay fit.

Wish I felt just like I did,
More than thirty years ago.
Back when I was still a kid,
And my muscles still would grow.

Even though I don't look bad,
For someone of my age.
The knowledge makes me sad,
That it's time to

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