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Best Poems Written by Benita Okoruen

Below are the all-time best Benita Okoruen poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Poetry

Poetry is the beauty of the mind
Only the clever can define

It is the dance of the pen
Only the toddlers call it a ten

It is a mystery yet untold
Only revelation can unfold

It is a puzzle
It causes a dazzle

It is a game 
Not for the lame
      
It is a journey
Not so funny

It is a mission
Which gives room for vision

It brings pleasure
Now and ever, it is a treasure

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Writers

For change, we write 
In sanity, we write 
In pain, we write 
In praise and glory, we write 
In times of trouble, we write 
In despair, we write 
In loss, we write 
In dilemma, we write 
In abstinence, we write 
In quest, we write 

For the "PEN" 
Heals even the broken,
Saves the captives,
Restores the lost,
Gives hope to illusion,
And strengthens the weak.

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Flaw

Tell me not, in sweet voices 
That life is a beautiful place.
Life is but a devoid of poise!

A place where confidence embraces Cowardice giving room to everything that Seems to have no shape of elegance.

Tell me not, in sweet voices
That life is full of hope.
Life is but an empty dream!

A place where optimism is dressed in the Beautiful garment of depression.

Dreams remain dreams 
Reality now hallucination
With sleep swiftly becoming the perfect place for a lively human being.

Blue skies turn black,
Green grasses now brownishly hot
With everything silently dieing out 

A young teen I am,
Poignant is my name
I find myself in a sinister house, school and society
Where do I flee?
For fierce I wear 
With my mind all set 
Never to look back 
For virtue has been buried,
Courage has been sold,
Strength has been defeated and
All dignity has been lost
Never to be restored.

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Lone

Stripped off naked,
She walked past
Through the weary path
She knew not where she went

Birds chirping and hovering,
The sorrowing songs from the crickets.
Trespass her humble mind
Leaving her with no choice than to sob

With her bare feet, 
She tries to pamper the noisy rustle
From the dried leaves
Which in turn makes a jest of her

Her shadow,
Makes a Foss of her
Not being tender at all
Forming disfigured figures around her

Her pale body,
Bearing the benevolence
Of a rumbling and grumpy stomach,
The worms and intestines entangle

Deficiency she wears,
Her hair all scattered
Like that of an impotent rat
Lingeringly looking low

Patched with pains,
She looked above. Seeing further,
She reached for what she saw.
There was a rotten apple
As if the raven had witty pity on her

Alas she found peace,
When she hopelessly
Laid her heavy head
Amongst the pine
And distressed in the pool
Of her bleeding juice

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Beyond Eyes

I have a dream
One which clearly calls
For Peace to beam 
And not for palls 

I have a dream
Where the young shall grow 
Adapting to the special meme 
Just to become the people of morrow

I have a dream
Every woman would become a damsel 
And every man at the brim 
In positions to give counsel 

I have that big dream 
To be who I want to be
To flow like a stream 
And to be as boundless as the sea