Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ORBIAM SIMON May 2020
Mother Earth
Mother Earth
So good you are
patiently you are to us
Your free gifts to us are precious and the seasoner provisions
The plants and their flowers
The trees and their fruits
the animals and their babies yet live and feeds
The ****** ground and waters
All for our well fare

Grand mother nature
Never you stop supporting mother Earth as you bless us with the air
The weather and atmospher
The wind and waves
The oxygen and clouds
The day light and night to rest

Our hearts are weeping
Heavily beating
For guilt of abuse and violation of resources
Greed and selfishness
Evil and distraction lies in us and we tear apart each other
Though your wrath and punishment we have to embrace for our hearts desires.
It's highly about time we need to change our way of living, we are seriously abusing our resources.
Moomin May 2020
A delicate crimson rose endures
The snow and winds of winter's grasp
And closes up and wilts a while
Until Summer sun it finds at last

In this world of unrighteousness
Where brutes and ogres' egos roam
And selfishness abounds like weeds
She exists in shattered form

With silent seething disilusion
And saddened, unrequited love
Maddened by the unjust acts
of those who advertized their “love”

A vain and self-indulgent god
Did sieze himself her mind and oath
Presiding as the demons do
In hidden acts pronounced as gross  

Enduring the madness of matriarchs
And the hostility of tribal gang
Where smiles of familial welcoming
Turned into savage, jealous fangs  

Yet though the bitterness seeps through
And anger permeates her skin
Sweet dignity she still retains
And devotion stll resides within

Her adornment incorruptible
Her spirit mild and resolute
Did not return evil for evil
But stood and conquered it with good

Happy is she who has endured
And in mild subjection did remain
Showing honour to a painful degree
To bring honour to Jehovah's name

And though she stumbled in despair
Yet withstood for righteous sake
Her loyalty, the beast could not sever
Nor divine concsience could he break

For like the rose at winter's end
That bears a striking sharpened thorn
Her petals still are soft and pure
And her soul with beauty still adorned

For the righteous one who sees all things
And whose love she yet retains
Will never for eternity forget
The love she showed for his great name

And should she reach out and beseech
And trust his salvation once again
She would know with certainty
He has never let go her hand


(For my precious daughter, Cheryl, who has been to hell and back)
Paper Heart Poet Apr 2020
In my nightmare you had cancer
Which turned your face wooden
I felt your features but not your skin
I’ve been imprisoned and tortured
By those who birthed you
Who share your blood yet not your feelings
They made you to talk to her
Why else would you feel  
There was still a spark and raw desire
Towards the one who cheated and lied
Made you swallow the pill of pain…
Killer is her name, your forgotten secret
Whom you deny with your other self
Kayla universe Mar 2020
I wanted to write  about something happy.

I wanted to write about love, but realized nobody wants to hear that.

To write about someone else.
How they walk, how they talk and  how you talk about them way too much.

“It’s all too mundane,” everyone  would say.


Yesterday night, I slept by your side and that’s all I needed that the time.

To wrapped in your arms.

“Mundane!” They would say.

Yesterday morning, I heard your voice on the other end of the line and that’s all I needed at the time.

Last week, I didn’t want to leave your house. I wanted to stay there on your couch watching tv till I heard God speak himself

Until I heard his voice on the other end of the line which will be never so really, last week, I wanted to stay with you forever  , but nobody wants to hear that.

“Still too mundane!” They would all say.

A few nights ago, your sister told me, “our father didn’t start hitting women until he was twenty so you’ve got time.”    

A few nights ago you told me you were going to propose.  

Today, I was lying in my bed wondering to myself in my head if I wanted to spend the rest of my life someone who might hit me.

“Maybe he wouldn’t.” I said.

But maybe he would.

“Now were getting somewhere.”

Maybe it would be on our first night of marriage or maybe our 40th.

We would get into some petty little argument and it would just happen faster then I could snap my fingers.

Yesterday night, I slept by your side and that’s all I needed that the time.

“Mundane!” they would say.

You wrapped me in your arms so tight, I started to lose my sight. I couldn’t breath, but for a second, I felt relieved.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

I remember one day you said to me, “ I would never hit you.” And that’s all I needed at time.

I wanted to write about something happy. I wanted write about love, but realized nobody wants to hear that.


To write about someone else. How they walk. How they talk. How they talk about their father and wishes him dead, how they snap in an instant, how they break things and don’t know how it fix them!

“Now we’re getting somewhere .”
I wrote this poem about a relationship I was in last year. I’m so happy I had the courage to leave and wanted to share what it was like with anyone who reads. ❤️❤️
lynn Mar 2020
I’m starting to get addicted
to the feeling of
being let
down
Next page