Wrung Poems - Poems about Wrung

...I did not hesitate. My blade, ever true, cut through the air toward his heart. But before it struck, he spoke a word I did not understand. The world twisted as if the very air had been wrung like ......

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...In the quiet of the night When the sun decides to save its light for someone worthy When the stars twinkle in its wake When the moon chases after her lover I used to pray But not with the wh......

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...I dreamed I was in Café Terrace with Toulouse-Lautrec. We were downing glass after glass of orange triple sec. And quite drunk, he muttered something that shocked me so ~ he intimated he'd eaten t......

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... You leave the safety of your front gate and enter into fear. The early morning quiet magnifies your every movement into a noise - footsteps, breath, the sound of arms scraping against a ......

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...eyelids half open, half closed there’s a warmth that lingers, a warmth that grows. iridescent, so sweet, it glows. sweet air of yours, hear my heart; it beats, it slows. fill my lungs, recalci......

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...Here with walls green and bright My inn with fire’s warmth and light By a ravine low and steep An old man came in the night Hunched, disfigured, neither proud nor tall With a face shaped much ......

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...The following fictitious scenario I evoke Analogous to fire breathing puffed up imaginary dragon (in a land called Honah Lee) ye might rightly think what the deuce haunting spectre ace of sp......

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...The world today is split in two … or three... or four... or maybe more, but nonetheless, one must confess, all wage their wars as heretofore. While blunderbusses prey for us within our world w......

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...POWER IN THE TONGUE Words once spoken, have a life of their own Quoted, or misquoted, perhaps written down Emotion likely launched them from inception Or a cold logical reasoning, in far fewer ......

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... It sits heavy, like an iron weight that’s held in my gut too many years, longer than the son of God trudged his days through dust and spit and bitter wine. and who am I to think I’m different? ......

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... Pulp wrung out of sunset squeeze Chinese dragon clouds make mandarin marquees Purple curtain shrouds Folks without homes nobody sees Electrified skies spark dust to fl......

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...I used to hear words of pain I’m used to hearing words of defeat In this traumatic drama of my life I realise they no longer need a body The spill from lips wide open Stained on my mind From......

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...He sat captured in a surprised look, Middle-aged, youthful and vibrant, He was committed to his work and family, An uncommon balance admired by his colleagues. His story was that of grass to gr......

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...cross your welter of confusion i think of you often in your sadness questions still standing a laps wrung of live i see no clement sky its the space i'm trying that courts the day ......

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...Prisoner Of Time Miracle Man 4/21/2024 At birth, each became, a prisoner of time. Our sentence diminished, with each clock chime. Hopefully, the time we served, wrung from us our ......

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