Limerick Poems About Death | Death Limerick Poems
Poem Details | by Terry O'Leary |
Categories: america, society,

Lotsa Limericks - It Couldn't be Verse

		1Big Brother
Big Brother's protecting his mice
with a secret eavesdropping device.
          If you hang up the phone
          he'll just send in a drone
when a warrant won't really suffice.

The internet's meant to be free,
yes for all, such as you, such as me.
          But now there's some doubt -
          will it lose all its clout
with the death of neutrality's spree?

'twas surely our forefather's dread
all our emails would someday be read.
	Now that push comes to shove
	by the powers above,
private thoughts must now stay in our head.

Guantanamo bay's a resort
where the fishing's a fabulous sport -
	with your back on a board
	tepid water is poured
spawning tales for a kangaroo court.

To bountiful bailouts give thanks
for there's nothing much richer than banks -
	making money galore
	taking homes from the poor
while they're managing mortgaging pranks.

If you live in the States don't get sick
(lest a cut of the upper class clique).
	Whether injured or ill
	all they'll give you's a pill -
if you're lucky you'll surely die quick.

Our economy's doing just fine
lying dead with a slug in the spine.
	So come follow the call
	where there's money for all
and pure profit's the bottom-most line.

Vigilantes and cops are wide spread -  
as for justice… not even a shred.
	The avengers of right
	score when stalking the night 
so beware of a cap in the head.

Poem Details | by RALPH TAYLOR |
Categories: funny

The Foreign Diplomat

While campaigning among South American civilians 

he got news of the death of three Brazilians

        He said he was vexed
        then he asked quite perplexed

just how many is a brazillion?

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: fun,

Let's Eat Grandma

Let's eat Grandma..OR let's eat, Grandma Punctuation saves lives because of a comma So very small But stands so tall The difference of life and death for Mom's Momma

Poem Details | by James Horn |
Categories: allegory, analogy,

Nearly Dearly and Still Sincerely

Nearly Dearly and Still Sincerely

Was almost sudden true love nearly,
Yet still to death did love her dearly,
Then in a grove,
Found treasure trove,
Simply, apparently and so sincerely.

Jim Horn

Poem Details | by Carolyn Devonshire |
Categories: satiredeath, death,

Death Row Blues

He’d spent nearly a decade on death row
Praying for appeals that were not bestowed
     Had a solid alibi
     One the courts would just not buy
A death sentence he’d have to undergo
DNA exam proved him no killer
But there’s a sad angle to this thriller
     Tests performed posthumously
     Executioners agree
Evidence came too late; what a chiller!

*For Miranda’s “Behind Bars Blues” contest

Categories: fun, nonsense,

Spooks were making love

                  Spooks were making love their bones were clattering
                       Fresh in after death sex they were a prattling
                                 They missed the first session
                                   How to spook the passion
                 And slipped to their graves skulls down saber rattling

          Spooks were making love© Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 14 November 2014

Poem Details | by lim'rik flats |
Categories: veterans day,

one veteran's day

firkins and gherkins and whistles and shoes
cluster bombs, punji stakes, death in the news
choppers chattering
napalm splattering
a carpet bombed mind with asian war blues

cracked vinyl records and medals unworn
black and white photo, ex-soldier unshorn
wheeling chair
graying hair
a beaded necklace with peace sign well worn

tobacco stained fingers shake with a curse
lips pull a drag with help from a nurse
flares ignite
will he fight?
a battle goes cold, memories submerse

wheeled to a corner, he stares at a wall
that others can’t see, for him it is all
locked within
he can’t win
a war without end..unspeakable gall

Poem Details | by Andrea Dietrich |
Categories: christmas, humorous,

An Eavesdropping On Christmas Therapy

Four characters that we know well
have problems they all want to tell
in therapy group.
To get all the scoop,
let’s eavesdrop, for all is not well!

Believing no more in himself,
sits dear Santa Claus and an elf
who is hating his work.
Santa says, “What jerk.
I should put you back up on your shelf!”

The elf, in a huff, then fires back
(for confidence HE does not lack),
“I believed in you once,
when you weren’t such a dunce.
Old geezer, go stuff your own sack!”

The anger inside the room grows
when Rudolph, who hates his red nose,
screams, “Don’t say such stuff.
StNick’s work is tough,
and MY job, dear elf, frankly BLOWS.

You elves get to go to the mall
and smile at the children and all.
No one’s calling you names
as you play reindeer games.”
The elf yells, “At least you’re not SMALL.

You think you have woes? Look at ME.
I’m called silly names constantly.
There’s a song about YOU
and your red nose debut.
Geez, a hero you’ve now come to be!!

An elf is an elf all the same.
Kids don’t even know my real name.
Reindeer get names like Cupid.
Well, your name should be STUPID.
What I would not give for YOUR fame!”

A snowman sits stoically there.
He turns to the arguing pair.
“A carrot’s MY nose!
To death I have froze,
yet I’m melting right now in this chair!”

For Shadow Hamilton's Let's Have Fun Poetry Contest

Poem Details | by Tim Smith |
Categories: love,


Her songs come and make love to me 
each note stroked so enticingly 
they twist and they twirl 
engulfing her pearl 
I reside deep in Calliope 

Entwined we are starved by the night 
two souls that are holding on tight 
'low passionate skies 
entranced by her eyes 
I make her my lunar delight 

Tongue tips and teeth that desire 
true love that's burning on fire 
stare down our sure death 
both gasping for breath 
this heat can't get much higher

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: silly,

A Recent Discovery

“I'll follow you to the ends of the earth” is a very old line But recently, they've discovered earth is round, will take a long time Sounds good on paper But methinks this caper Could mean death crossing by dinghy the ocean brine

Poem Details | by Keith Trestrail |
Categories: death, funny,

Death and Taxes

 To the earth below my end commences
 and have committed life's last offences.
   Oh not even death will save
   me from taxes in the grave...
 now I can't deduct living expenses!

                  August 2014

Poem Details | by Nick Bagnall |
Categories: funeral, funny

Danger - Musicians

There was an old lady from Ireland 
Who was frightened to death by a brass band
We watched with dismay
As without delay
They buried her corpse in the band stand

Contest : Slapstick Limerick Contest 
5th Place

Poem Details | by Paul Callus |
Categories: dark, humor,

Crocodile Tears

He made her life a living hell.
Her heart immune to the death knell
She breaks down and cries
Tears spring from her eyes
Her acting days now serve her well.


Contest: Open Poetry 
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
11th July, 2015
Placed 7th

Poem Details | by Amy Green |
Categories: sad

ManTo Blame

In the beginning, when man became-
Murder and death seemed a fun game.
This was not what God meant
When giving us consent-
To our own choice, only man is to blame.

Poem Details | by Debra Mundine |
Categories: health,

Stay Well

Health plans are many, take your pick
You'll need one when you get sick
give longevity a chance
cheat death of circumstance
and give your heart more time to tick.

Poem Details | by Andrea Dietrich |
Categories: food, funny,

Pete's Sweet Death

Let me tell you about a guy Pete. If it’s true that we are what we eat, he would just have to be loved by everybody because he would be something sweet! On sweets Pete could never get full, so he’d eat all his cakes and pies whole! With each passing year his widening rear more resembled a large jelly roll. With gusto Pete daily transgressed, chowing down on desserts he liked best, never giving one thought to the things that he ought - like that thing going wrong in his chest It occurred after Pete had dug in to some pastries, his favorite sin. In his chair Pete had plopped when his heart simply stopped - But his jelly smeared mouth wore a grin!
For the "Die A 'Fun' Death Contest Poetry Contest" hosted by Natalie the Rogue Rhymer

Poem Details | by Nyonglema Pisoh |
Categories: africa, hate, history, home,

The Grass is Greener

We’re not called upon to choose anything we live through;
Neither parent nor sibling nor school nor form of sinew;
Neither colour of hair or eye or skin,
Nor love or hate, nor loss or gain
Nor opportunities nor whence we comeSo much is true.

But as much as this truth I hold as true as sunlight,
I know that painful times will time to time alight
When with bitter phlegm you curse
The earth where you breathed first
And wish your day of birth were scratched by He with might.

I knowSame feelings have plagued my adult soul
And the wish for better home to make each day whole
Has been dashed by shameful news,
Where Hope, seeing Hitler, and 94’s Hutus,
Needs to hide its youth to stall the death toll.

But amidst pain, hate and bottled despair rife
There’s the rare love, innocent and hardly grasping to life.
For here, we can give our all
When we choose to keep you from a fall.
We really do it: humble, loving…just like the Lord’s life.

Yes, it’s easier to perceive the weeds in one’s garden
For the pastures beyond gleam in our myopia, hiding their burden.
And seeing that weed can cast a shadow
On all that’s sweet, but cause much ado
About the bitter parts, and it day by day your heart will harden.

Think of the evening breeze on the night grill,
Feeding the flames of a delicious family fish meal.
Think of hitting the unadulterated
Lands of hills where ancient rivers percolated
And happy goats skip, and cattle graze and one can feel

Life whizzing through rustling leaves of dancing old tree or reed,
Playing the music our ancestors learned to read,
Making your lungs touch their purpose,
Dazzling your eyes like a Jabbawockeez pose,
The music we’ve forgotten as we focus on some RSS feed.

Think of the youths wise with tradition re-enacting solemnly
The dances and music handed down from before when Ptolemy
Phrased ancient philosophical data,
To the time of the expansive empire of Sundiatta
Beads stomping the dust frantically in musical poetry.

Picture the pure darkness which crowds the silent night air,
Unveiling the marvellous dotted and scattered there
In the moonlit heavenly canvas,
Watching us from light years past,
And we fascinated by the sparkling magic they share.

So to sum it all up, I know it cannot be perfect,
And sometimes I rant and make massive graffiti of its defects,
But this home my parents chose
Still draws my spirit close,
For the bond is deeper, far deeper than human senses can detect.

(c) Nyonglema

Poem Details | by Owen Yeates |
Categories: people,

Ignorance Ville

There’s a place called ignorance ville
Where there selling real estate still
You will not raise a hand 
Bury your head in the sand
In a place called ignorance ville

You certainly won’t get much grief
For this place just beggars belief
People there will not see
There just so glad to be
In ignorance ville they sigh with relief

While death and destruction are seen
Starvation, abuse how obscene
They will keep it away
Not a word will they say
In ignorance ville all is green

So will someone please let them know?
This simply ain’t the place to go
We should all do more for sure
To find the world a cure
Not like ignorance ville, let it grow

Poem Details | by Matt Forshay |
Categories: dark, death,

Only the Good Die Young Dark Limerick

Even though "Only the good die young"
A very well known song that's sung
But should it be said
Means less in the head
They wanted death before off the tongue


Poem Details | by Anna Archichek |
Categories: home, political,

The Death of my Town - for Bradford, West Yorkshire, England

The Death of my Town 
(for Bradford, West Yorkshire, England)

At first I was self-righteous and held the moral high ground
On approaching the imminent death of my town
Some days I would observe and shake my head
And say loudly “You know, I think my town might be dead!”

Looks on faces say should I no longer care?
What can we do for the people out there? 
But the Town Hall had a plan 
There was some government money in the pan

Which they spent on a big pond in the ground 
To fill with water, applaud themselves and stand around 
And that was supposed to revive our town 
Bring it back to life so we could once again be proud

Visitors would flock from miles around 
To bask in the renewing of my town 
Which would filter round and round 
Dragging us all up off the ground 

Despite their plans, I did not know
Just how quickly the death would take
As I watched as the town’s thinning corpse
Wither away....and start to decay

I could not know how I would feel
When its lifeless body was at last laid out 
That I no longer had the strength to shout 
Or believe in those who had told us to be proud 

But its people still hang about
Without the means or strength to leave
So they try to drown out the death of their town
By drinking and drinking and drinking until they fall down 

And to those who were paid to save it and did not
But stand by and let it fall down 
Wasting all that money 
On a pond in the ground 

I must believe the day will come 
When they must pay for what they have done 
At best competent 
At worst nowt’  

Because I refuse to understand 
That all they could offer was a hole in the ground 
To prevent the death of my once loved town 
Trapping all those around

Whilst their confidence rang out so loud 
Telling us all we had so much for to be proud
But knowing they were simply 
Cursing us all to life in a dead town

Although I believe they can still get out.....

Poem Details | by SYLVIA Coulstock |
Categories: funnyold, old,

Heaven Sent

There was once an old girl called Flo
On her death asked to go below.
See, she had this trick,
To try to convert old Nick,
But he told her where to go!

Poem Details | by Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen |
Categories: angst, animals, life, nostalgia,

A Distempered Horse

There once was a skinny horse name George.
Poor ole soul lived alone in a gorge.
Three fit sheep came his way.
They were traded that day.
Matted, bony, his belly engorged 

Onward He forged, living on the brink.
I’ll save him, one young maiden did think.
Head hung; life was his game.
George, his infamous name.
She prayed; from his needs, she did not shrink.

George would not drink; lips were cracked and dry.
She asked God, “Please don’t let him die.”
Water was his kismet.
Sweet feed filled hope’s bucket.
She cut out mats; whisked away each fly.

Six months later, George was still alive.
Lips were moist; he ate; began to thrive.
With some flesh on his bones,
And relieved of his groans,
The day of her moving would arrive.

The time came when George had to be sold.
Half Arabian, not very old
Registration papers.
The old trader’s capers,
You promised them, the young girl cajoled.

How could he live; does he have luster?
Papers lost; no death by distemper.
Confessions on that day,
The girl went away.
Compassion to the horse did whisper.

New owners bought him, his health still poor.
His price and potential was the big lure.
They quickly changed his name.
Greener pastures, the game.
Star’s beauty became his life’s encore.

© June 7, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: A Horse Story 	 
Sponsored by: Carol Brown

(Based on a true story)

Poem Details | by Andrea Dietrich |
Categories: happiness, truth,

The Whole Truth and Nothing But the Truth

The Whole Truth & Nothing But the Truth (If I Made a Movie) It’s the movies that I love a lot, and the truth is, if I had a shot at making a movie, it sure would be groovy and have a magnificent plot! Of trivial humor I’m wary. Not a Curly, a Moe or a Larry would be in my show, and just so you know, MY movie would be good and scary! It wouldn’t be all blood and gore. For me, real suspense is much more. Cheap effects you’d not see, and the genre would be of psychological horror. I don’t have all the details worked out, but if homicide it were about, no typical killer would be in my thriller, and he might even be a boy scout! My movie would not have to be about death necessarily. Inner conflicts of the main characters and a big twist is what I’d guarantee! Written for PD's Truth or Dare Contest By Andrea Dietrich (Good grief, I can't even find a category for this poem, such as MOVIESI wish Soup gave more choices!)

Poem Details | by RALPH TAYLOR |
Categories: funny


This Limerick on my Tombstone I wish to be read

Include my Name, Birth and Death dates I said

         Now it's time to reminisce

         Cause if you're reading this

Then it's quite obvious I must be dead!

                  Ralph Taylor - RIP (Really Into Poetry)

Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: absence, betrayal, confusion, cry,

my heart I gave once

once I gave my heart 
mesmerized by the start 
his eyes so sapphire blue 

I was not ready for this
my thoughts went blank 
literally speechless

had I known the tears I would be left with
I do not believe I would have let love in
this Man , he knew he captivated women 

Always me going for what I can not have 
then in return it is given , leaving me confused
the one I was seeking for sure would never commit 

Commit he did , even in front of a Rabbi 
saying only once, 1 time will I.
with all conviction I believed his lie 

I remember the Fall day he left without words spoken 
the leaves were dancing through the wind 
as if they were trying to tell me something 

the rain cried tears for me that night 
I took his sword collection down from the wall
thinking in true love I will never find again

to die a graceful poetic death with his sword
I awoke with a hangover the next day 
my heart broken  my heart ignored

Poem Details | by Duke Beaufort |
Categories: earth, earth day, funny,

The next red hot real estate market

Earth's death seems to be in our stars
End comes from the greed planet's scars
But the rich have reach
And will visit the beach
Near estates they've purchased on Mars

Poem Details | by Justin Time |
Categories: death, life, pain, sad,

death is good

Oh give me a rope
With a noose that is loose 
And i'll tie it up on a beam

Then give me a pill
That will give me a thrill 
And i'll end it all on a high

Death Death is the way 
For life is to sucky to play

So give me a gun
That is loaded for fun
And i'll blow my brains far away.

Poem Details | by Duke Beaufort |
Categories: humor, ireland,

a second limerick joke

A leprechaun grants me three wishes—it’s my lucky day!
But for my ex he’ll double each gift--much to my dismay! 
Not at all deterred
And for the last and third
I say beat me to death just half way

Poem Details | by Duke Beaufort |
Categories: funny, political, satire

Just eat it

When with the bayou they're messing
BP says, "Oh what a blessing,
The mix will be fine
Add vinegar from wine
To make a fine salad dressing!"

Author's note: In the end; BP will pay close to nothing, and the rest of us will be stuck with 
the cost of the environmental damage To the anti-government regulation libertarians: this 
lack of reason in law enables rich and powerful companies to get away with theft beyond 
imagination Death to the Tea Party!    

Poem Details | by Duke Beaufort |
Categories: peace, political, satire,

Endless Madness

Our people respect Navy Seals
Their stealth earned applause 
and great squeals
Yet nervous most wait
As from this fateful date
There's fear of Bin Laden's 

The rabble's reaction was queer
To some of us it does appear
That no one has learned
What it means to be burned
And how from this nonsense to 

He'd not have his calendar 
He died before dying his beard
His head sheared with lead
Won't taste breakfast in bed
Osama won't see his death 

Poem Details | by Mark Goodson |
Categories: childhood, death, depression, family,

A Child of Nine

When I was a child of nine
I thought I had all the time
Time to live and be happy
Time to fish with my pappy
But death had crossed the line

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: funny,

Let's Eat Grandma

Let's eat Grandma..OR let's eat, Grandma Punctuation saves lives because of a comma So very small But stands so tall The difference of life and death for Mom's Momma

Poem Details | by bradley smith |
Categories: life, nostalgia, school, school,


The music coarses through my veins
As i run down the street
i don't need to look back 
to hear the pounding of the feet

My mind races as i sprint
my lungs struggling to continue
but i hear death come closer
not knowing what to do

i see the glint of metal
as he races after me
not fighting for his honor
it is just blood he wants to see

is this how a hero dies, i ask myself boldly
is this what happens when you refuse to back down
my heart starts to fail, my feet start to slow
with barely enough energy, to turn myself around

All i ever did
was stand up to that school bully
and it may have been the last thing i do
i now understand quite fully

if only i had stepped down
let him spit and walk away
instead, i had to open my mouth
and so the consequences i must now pay

i muster up the courage
puff out my chest and turn 
but instead of feeling steel
i feel a steady burn

for in my frantic flight
i must have stepped down wrong
for after everything I'd done
i knew that it was sprung

i fall down to the pavement
fearing the very end
that school bully who chose to chase me
would soon learn to comprehend

that i stood up for myself
and would not back down now
i fought back the tears
and stood without a sound

i waited and waited and waited
for the bully to fly around the block
i sat back down and teared up,
as i yanked away the sock

the pain that radiated shot
through my leg and through my bones
anyone one could tell 
from the screeching of my tone

i hobbled to the bus stop
picking out the broken glass
the blood hit the ground
and the ground hit my ass

i sat there in my tears
pondering a lie to tell
one that told nothing of my flight
and one that i could sell

i came home late that night
with relief my mother slept
i hobbled to my bed
and passed out as i wept

Poem Details | by Tom Wright |
Categories: youth,

The Squid Eating Contest

The Squid Eating Contest By Tom Wright There was a young man from Madrid Who excelled at most all that he did. But in a contest for eating, While others were seating, He choked to death chewing a squid.

Poem Details | by Jim David |
Categories: funny, philosophy, religion, satire,

What Choice??

You insist that I only choose one
Finite human or god in the sun
Man has long pondered this
But as to my wish
I'll face death and have ALL the fun!!

Poem Details | by Joe Flach |
Categories: lost lovelove,

The Divorce Club

with rings we were wed
until death do us depart – 
the love died too soon

There once was a romantic wedding
We mistook love for what was in the bedding
But outside the sheets
We were incompletes
So the marriage license we are now shredding

We join many others in the divorce club membership fold
Mistakes so many repeat when the love story is said and told

Poem Details | by Sara Kendrick |
Categories: funny,

Over Zealous

There once was a zealous game warden
Whose tiny heart was very harden
His so clever wife surely said 
At his death would be well fed
Charging for _iss on grave with organ

Just for fun!!

Poem Details | by john chizoba vincent |
Categories: age, anger, art, dedication,


Power and authority to rule and
Control the universe in their teste
Drive to conquer the world 
Digging deeper to understand
The ingrediate that coupled 
The world Together by the creator.
The foundation of death and how
Possible to over thrown the enemy.

Poem Details | by Brenden Taylor |
Categories: death, faith, life


Fulfilling desire can toll A sense of relief for the soul; But death will begin With the meaning of sin: Desire that’s out of control.

Poem Details | by Timothy Hicks |
Categories: bereavement, funny,


I inhaled the smoke, then wished to flee,
thinking to myself "This is debauchery!".
Take a gutter stub
and light it back up,
seeing how a slow death be your fancy!

Poem Details | by Sean Fahrnebruch |
Categories: dark, death, depression, happy,


To die before you die is worse then death itself.
Time doesn’t stop as you are sprung backwards.
Now you have to climb forward
Desperately yearning to revert to your normal self.
Desperately wanting something to spring you back to where you were, happy

Poem Details | by Funom Makama |
Categories: life,

Non conspicuous Causes

Horrible Death sentence, through a kiss and a soft whisper
expert assassination by the hands of a Leper
living particles with no length
pull mega ones with their strength
accident occurring from a malfunctioning wiper.

Poem Details | by Grace Williams |
Categories: death, fantasy, satire, people,

Silver Strands

The heaves and the roars and the sighs
Are less frightening to passer-bys
Than the terrible moans 
Of the hollowed out stones
Which bring forth the dead sailors’ cries.

The sky in the west has gone red,
Dyeing rocks on whom many have bled
Men defended their homes
Legends filled foreign tomes:
Devil’s ile is what far scholars said

Thinking savages roamed ‘round uncouth
They could not have imagined the truth
That a goddess lived there
With star light for her hair
Who gave to all many life times of youth

These people they could not feel fear
For as long as their goddess was near
Despite the fall of leaves
They had endless reprives
A silver strand and at death they could leer

But when one girl fell deeply in love
With one resembling a sweet mourning dove
When she asked for a strand
From her tribe she was banned
Left to die with her husband alone

First of her people to grow wise with age
She tried to make others give up their rage
But with her own son she failed
And to his people he sailed
He hanged the goddess by her hair on her stage

*I know that this is a bit creepy and gross I don't know why I wrote it.*

Poem Details | by jack horne |
Categories: death, death, death,

Watery Grave

There once was a fellow called Dwight,
Who thought a water bed was right,
But his house caught on fire,
And the outcome was dire,
When he was poached to death that night*

For Natalie's Fun Death contest

* Based on an old joke, like the man who tried to hang himself with a piece of elastic and bashed his brains out on the ceiling, LOL

Poem Details | by Janice Canerdy |
Categories: inspiration, poetry,

Praise for Poetry Soup


		You ask why I'm here on this site.
		I'll tell of my harrowing plight.
		Just one year ago,
		my poor muse was slow,
		so near death it gave me a fright.

		I cried, "How much worse can things get?"
		Then browsing one day on the Net,
		I found the great Soup.
		I'm back in the loop.
		I've joined, and I have no regret.

		I'm challenged by prompts to convey
		my feelings and dreams every day.
		The Soupers inspire.
		I do so admire 
		this siteI have now found my way.

Poem Details | by Larry Belt |
Categories: funny

Closet Case

She looks like death on a crippled spider
Hips like an elephant, maybe wider
My friends came over and saw
My ugly mother-in-law
Next time they come they want me to hide her

Poem Details | by David Fisher |
Categories: film, funny, space,

The Emperor's Office

The Death Star builder said it was flawless
But in hindsight he wasn’t too cautious
There was the exposed center
But what really helped end her
The emperor had no corner office

Poem Details | by David Caldera |
Categories: devotiongoodbye, goodbye,


If I wished for you, I woud have wished too much.
If I were to shed a tear for you, It would have been, one tear too many.
If I tried to just, to live for you, then my death would not have been enough.
Finding a way to say, goodbye to you, where I wouldn't have to lie to you,
where I could say, I tried for you then,  in the end it wasn't what, I would do.
When goodbye feels like I'm dying and I'm crying because, I wished for you.
Then a wish before dying is trying to come true, a wish I made while crying over you!!!

Poem Details | by elizabeth lepapa |
Categories: confusion, depression, education, hope,


Under millions of stars...................eyes deeply fixed to the golden moon..............when dew on the grass is shinning like pieces of glasses...............on the bus to a monkey on a tree,
With my favorite blue pen................sometimes draft in my cell..................the strongest bond love,
My mysterious pain.....................undying dreams.................never-ending hope.............................
Beautiful rhymes from my inner being............................a mental obstruct................struggles with lines.........................I write...........................hoping for some coins..................the bag to better my life.........................the clue..........................a shoe...........................ask even Valarie.........................add wit.....................sometimes filled with so much questions................may be its for perfection.....................intercession....................aren’t I  worth anything?.....................all my time a breath of pain............all stretched hands twinge me......................all my ambitions go but a dreams are like birds.............everything a pack of dead beat of this oceanic pain......................sick of the waterfalls in my eyes....................the friendships that cleaves my heart out............................tired of the thorns raining from the skies.....................I hold on to prayers.......................I still hurt my an apprentice of writing............................a millionaire in searching.....................trying to piece the rest of my dilapidated life............................yet the darkest days are ahead of rotting in carrying an album full of bad head is creating  successful future pictures...................maybe the sun will shine once again........................maybe the color of life will return...........................maybe the planet will celebrate with me........................but now am still alone..........................if death wont silence the struggles of my existence........................i pray it will free me from this pain my ulcer is aching.........................i can’t afford the hospital

Poem Details | by Agnimitra Mishra |
Categories: age, allegory, autumn, bereavement,

The cycle of life

The wind blew the leaves away, for it was the end of times
The leaves dried and had fallen, for it was on the cold ground
The thoughts of being tethered to the warm support
Of the love and embrace, it was wonderful times
The love had forsaken the once tender leaves
It was the autumn time, the days they are left to fall away
The dimming memory of leaves, to see the glory of sun 
To dance to the tunes of singing gale
Alas it was their end of times
The kid on the block walked over the pile of them all
Asked his father, why this happened at all
"the love of tree, shouldn't make it to keep them in its fold"
Father smiled, he replied this wasn't the end of this all
For the day will come when the sun will again be up, in its full glory
The cycle of life and death will again swing
And a day will come when you will again walk over the leaves, and maybe i wont be there