Something is missing?
Had she forgotten something?
Had she turned off the cooker?
Can’t shake off the feeling
Her barren stomach
Un-filled with joy
Always monthly bleeding
Mocking her womb
Desperation choking her
Never to love her own
No bond with a pure and undamaged soul
Her womb an infertile home
Im unable to have children. Some days all I see are pregnant women everywhere
The pain sinks in
And with the right pills it's fine
Just have to wonder
What kind of damage it's doing
And if I'll ever be fine
Possibly have endometriosis, and well I'm terrified.
He happily tells you
His wonderful news,
With excited smiles,
But none of it involving you.
You tell him
You’re so happy to hear...
But your little smile
Only holds back tears.
Everything you ever wanted
Lives within his eyes
But all he wanted now lives in her,
Which makes you die inside.
You're trying just to smile big
With cordial congratulations
Because he must never know
Your pathetic lamentations.
The sorrow that will, forever,
Be splitting you in two
That he will never, ever,
Look for happiness in you.
A sunflower with a drop
of oily yellow so feeble
but one gets lost in the
happiness it brings
I haven't ever known
a happiness similar to this.
In the days of my childhood,
I used to sit in a room alone
with the vast pages of words and alphabet
I've learned them so well
Yet no matter how I arrange
I'm not convinced that I can
Properly express all of the things
I wish to say to you.
At sunset, when light fades in to darkness,
the gray that spreads around makes one ask,
'what if the moon wouldn't appear tonight?'
I've learned that the moon, it always appears.
But if you turn your back to it
You will miss the small things that it shines on
Like the sunflower that has been planted
from the coldest of all the winters
and from darkness of all the odds
have put against it in lack of sunshine
There, it waits.
Plenty in solitude and
protected by solace.
Ready for you to water it
and teach the warmth
of the world that you have provided,
so it can bloom under an autumn moon
From the perspective of a fictional character I've created, this was a poem drafted after the character, who was supposed to be infertile, found out she was pregnant. This was how she presented the news to her partner. The sunflower representing the child.
Budding with excitement and seemingly pointless fear,
but I held a new life in my hands shown through a *** of all my savings.
My eyes dart wildly in awe of all the different cars,
big ones, small ones, new ones, and foreign ones.
Everyone smiled at us - the dealers and the other buyers who walked out with
shiny, new vessels as if it were nothing.
Nobody knew this was our fifth dealership, even we pretended to lose count
maybe this time we’ll leave with something.
I know they can see how badly I yearn for a car of my very own
that I can say is mine,
that I worked for it,
that I can watch age through the years.
I wish my body was painted
With all the stories of my life
All the joy and heartbreak
Sprawled across my skin.
I wish I could simply
Trace the lines of a scene
Instead of clawing at words
To pull these feelings from myself
Hoping someone could understand them.
I wish there were scars and stretch marks
And something to show for it
Instead of empty arms
And an empty belly
I wish I could have met you
To follow the curve of your face
With the tips of my fingers
To breathe you in
To kiss your tiny lips.
I wish I could show the world to you
And show you to the world, but
I have nothing left to show of you.
No scars, no stretch marks,
No watercolor scenes.
Just an emptiness in me.
When the world turn against you
And call you
Museum without Statues
Darkness darker than Blindness
The Saddened Sun
That will not shine
A rainless **** that brings drought
A trackless Album
The daily thoughts of these words
Is like the butterfly effect caused hurricane
But you are graced with
Hopeful favour daily.
After the storm,
Comes a new life
Where stiffness echoes,
You are graced.
Where thoughts are underneath
You are hopeful
Where odium creates circumstances of blames
You are favoured
With the Window of Laughter.
No Woman or Man is barren