"burdens" poems
*Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise
They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole
But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell
Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared
Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again*
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 12:19 AM UTC
Lord, Lord,
Why did You make me Black?
Why did You make me someone
The world wants to hold back?
Black is the color of ***** clothes;
The color of grimy hands and feet.
Black is the color of darkness;
The color of tire-beaten streets.
Why did you give me thick lips,
A broad nose and ***** hair?
Why did You make me someone
Who receives the hatred stare?
Black is the color of a bruised eye
When somebody gets hurt.
Black is the color of darkness.
Black is the color of dirt.
How come my bone structure's so thick;
my hips and cheeks are high?
How come my eyes are brown
and not the color of the daylight sky?
Why do people think I'm useless?
How come I feel so used?
Why do some people see my skin and think I should be abused?
Lord, I just don't understand;
What is it about my skin?
Why do some people want to hate me
And not know the person within?
Black is what people are "listed",
When others want to keep them away.
Black is the color of shadows cast.
Black is the end of the day.
Lord, You know, my own people mistreat me;
And I know this just isn't right.
They don't like my hair or the way I look
They say I'm too dark or too light.
Lord, Don't You think it's time
For You to make a change?
Why don't You re-do creation
And make everyone the same?
(God answered
Why did I make you black?
Why did I make you black?
Get off your knees and look around.
Tell Me, what do you see?
I didn't make you in the image of darkness.
I made you in the Likeness of ME!
I made you the color of coal
From which beautiful diamonds are formed.
I made you the color of oil,
The black-gold that keeps people warm.
I made you from the rich, dark earth
That can grow the food you need.
Your color's the same as the panther's
Known for (HER) beauty and speed.
Your color's the same as the Black stallion,
A majestic animal is he.
I didn't make you in the Image of darkness
I made you in the Likeness of Me!
All the colors of a Heavenly Rainbow
Can be found throughout every nation;
And when all those colors were blended well,
YOU BECAME MY GREATEST CREATION.
Your hair is the texture of lamb's wool
Such a humble, little creature is he.
I am the Shepherd who watches them.
I am the One who will watch over thee.
You are the color of midnight-sky,
I put the stars' glitter in your eyes.
There's a smile hidden behind your pain
That's the reason your cheeks are high.
You are the color of dark clouds formed
when I send My strongest weather.
I made your lips full so when you kiss
the one you love they will remember.
Your stature is strong; your bone structure, thick
to withstand the burdens of time.
The reflection you see in the mirror...
The Image looking back at you is MINE!
-by RuNett Nia Ebo
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 9:42 AM UTC
I am warmhearted and icy cold,
with a pretty face that's getting old.
I am fragile yet tough as a man,
struggle thru life with no real plan.
I am petite and cuss like a trucker,
slightly naive, but I'm no sucker.
I am a sinner with a halo of gold,
an open book with secrets untold.
I am a hypocrite but always play fair,
a bleeding heart and I don't care.
I am a mother who acts like a child,
crazy, impatient and easily riled.
I am spontaneous and I am a bore,
forever forgiving, I still keep score.
I am unstable and wonderfully wise,
a ****** deviant in sweet disguise.
I am creative and self-destructive
naturally skilled and unproductive.
I am shy and I am outspoken
with a heart of stone, easily broken.
I am awkward and well refined,
lost, insightful and a little love-blind.
I am respected and I am addicted
shamed by burdens, self inflicted.
I am a perfectionist and I am a slob,
unbiased and shallow, an inept snob.
I am nocturnal, a creature of night,
blissfully ignorant, typically right.
I am cautious and I have no fear,
a loser and quitter, still I persevere.
I am brilliant and easily amused,
over-zealous and under-enthused.
I am impervious with wounds to heal,
an occasional liar just keepin' it real.
I am weird and lovely and mean-
I am what I am.......100 Aileen.
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
#*I saw a path and ran ahead
I nearly lost my way
Your mercy caught me by the arm
To Your side You bid me stay
I put my hope in my own plans
Which soon around me fell
You stopped me short upon that road
And said, "Rest and all will be well."
I'd surrendered all, but to my foe
Enticed into the briars
You turned his evil schemes instead
Into refining fires
I couldn't see my helplessness
Until my legs were broken
Till Shepherd's hands caressed my wounds
And healing words were spoken
You picked me up and carried me
And made me feel Your favorite
You held my head against Your chest
Until I grew to savor it
You tended me with gentlest touch
Then soothed all thought of fears
You sang forgiveness over me
And washed away my tears
There is no one like You, Lord
On whom I can rely
In loss, in danger or attack
You hear this poor sheep's cry
It's You Who keeps me from real harm
Who watches my coming and going
You shield me with Your strong right hand
From darts the enemy keeps throwing
You said to all who trust in You
You would give perfect peace
Enough for mind and heart to rest
To let all worrying cease
So, Lord, I trust You with my life
Your Shepherd's heart is pure
Your purpose for me's guarded well
And Your deliverance is sure
Please teach this sheep, Lord, how to wait
And strengthen me to stand
To put my hope in Your desires
And to love Your sovereign plan
You lead me into fields so green
Where streams of life are flowing
Where healing winds blow oft' and strong
And choicest fruits are growing
You set me free to hear Your voice
To follow at Your call
And even through the dark, cold nights
I'll know You've arranged it all
Yes, storms will come with battering rains
With hail and gusts and thunder
But these are meant to beckon me
To Your wings to pull me under
For it's in the darkness of the storm
My grip's most apt to tighten
And when my heart beats next to Yours
All earthly burdens lighten*#
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
I am alone.
With just some people I'm moving on.
Some talk less, some talk a lot.
I don't know if they are friends or not.
I am alone.
With some fears I'm moving on.
Some are scary, some are not.
I don't know if they are real or not.
I am alone.
With some deep wounds I'm moving on.
Some hurt more, some hurt less.
I don't know if they will heal or not
I am alone.
With a fake smile I'm moving on.
Sometimes looks good, sometimes not.
I don't know if it works or not.
I am alone.
With some burdens I'm moving on.
Some are huge, some are little.
I don't know if I will repay or not.
I am alone
With some secrets I'm moving on.
Some can save me, some can lead me to death.
I don't even know my remaining breaths.
-Paras Bajaj #PoetrybyParas
Instagram : @mr.parasbajaj
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 4:55 AM UTC
I saw a path and ran ahead
I nearly lost my way
Your mercy caught me by the arm
To Your side You bid me stay
I put my hope in my own plans
Which soon around me fell
You stopped me short upon that road
And said, "Rest and all will be well."
I'd surrendered all, but to my foe
Enticed into the briars
You turned his evil schemes instead
Into refining fires
I couldn't see my helplessness
Until my legs were broken
Till Shepherd's hands caressed my wounds
And healing words were spoken
You picked me up and carried me
And made me feel Your favorite
You held my head against Your chest
Until I grew to savor it
You tended me with gentlest touch
Then soothed all thought of fears
You sang forgiveness over me
And washed away my tears
There is no one like You, Lord
On whom I can rely
In loss, in danger or attack
You hear this poor sheep's cry
It's You Who keeps me from real harm
Who watches my coming and going
You shield me with Your strong right hand
From darts the enemy keeps throwing
You said to all who trust in You
You would give perfect peace
Enough for mind and heart to rest
To let all worrying cease
So, Lord, I trust You with my life
Your Shepherd's heart is pure
Your purpose for me's guarded well
And Your deliverance is sure
Please teach this sheep, Lord, how to wait
And strengthen me to stand
To put my hope in Your desires
And to love Your sovereign plan
You lead me into fields so green
Where streams of life are flowing
Where healing winds blow oft' and strong
And choicest fruits are growing
You set me free to hear Your voice
To follow at Your call
And even through the dark, cold nights
I'll know You've arranged it all
Yes, storms will come with battering rains
With hail and gusts and thunder
But these are meant to beckon me
To Your wings to pull me under
For it's in the darkness of the storm
My grip's most apt to tighten
And when my heart beats next to Yours
All earthly burdens lighten
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 12:57 PM UTC
{i remember}
She comes to presence
in a great wave of grief
that has no bottom.
{water cannot swim}
Feeling the unbearable
weight of womanhood
tearing me open,
revealing my own sorrows.
{a channel of life}
To be a gate of love and blood,
the flesh of desire,
bearer of all burdens,
was so traumatic I was reborn
in the body of a man.
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
She carries her burdens across the back of a child.
Rightfully hers to bear but her mind has gone wild.
Scarred grows his mind afraid of life so uncertain.
But she couldn't switch the soul of the carrier of her burden.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 1:36 AM UTC
You see the slump in my shoulders
the way I carry myself
the burdens of boulders
that threaten my health.
When you ask what's wrong
I pull up my guard
don't want your pity or sad song
won't tell you why life's hard.
So if you want to know
I'll bottle it inside
wrap up all remains in a black bow
and tell you I'm fine.
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 3:29 PM UTC
Holi, a hearty enthusiastic festival in horizon
Colours curdling, water washing every *****
Out of us evil ever going and playing on
Land of character cherished by coloured lawn.
What a scene to see! Gracious glory gone
If you miss this mesmerizing festival upon
A folly. Foolish will be called such a conn.
Holi, a hearty enthusiastic festival in horizon
Holy played in school is highly pleasing crayon,
For Kinar, Aayushi, Kunal. Aryan or John.
Monorhyme has one colour, holi many micron.
Mital, Mitesh, Vaikhu, SIddhu, Saurabh are don.
This day even principal thinks to prevent throne
And join joy with teachers - see anxiety thrown.
Holi, a hearty enthusiastic festival in horizon
Songs, screams; dance, D.J.; homage and hymn on;
This day with Holika heavy burdens and sins thrown.
Cruel Hiranyakashyapa was killed; glory was won.
Kunal, Arpita, Sandeep, Amit and Shreyas on lawn
Play water and colours with cool Pari’s scone
In Jalgaon, Agra, Kanpur, Karanja, Surat or Bonn.
Holi, a hearty enthusiastic festival in horizon
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 4:22 AM UTC
“You know, son… There’s a reason...
God had a reason to give you broad shoulders --
It’s so you could carry this load… It’s so you could hold up all these boulders.”
*“But these boulders aren’t my own, so why did He leave me them to hold?”
I can hardly hold them now… surely I’ll collapse when I grow old.”*
“You can’t think in terms of time, it is not a restriction by which He is bound…
Instead you must think it as your cross, think of the thorns upon his crown.
He will not notice the time; that’s a human concept we’ve created…
Instead he’ll judge you by the size of the burdens with which you’re weighted.”
*“Well, that’s a relief, but how can you be so sure?
He’s never turned the night to day; I’ve never seen a disease he’s cured.
Excuse me if I’m wrong, but I struggle to have faith
When the world that he created has become this wretched place.”*
“I can’t convince you that he’s real, I can’t show you how to feel.
But if I showed you cold and silence, would you say that they were real?
Yet these aren’t real things, simply the absence of others…
So you must look to the voids, when you wish to discover.”
*“I hope that you’re right. I hope he’s up there listening…
I hope there’s golden gates I can admire, I hope that they’re still glistening.
I hope God can take my hand, and tell me ‘Son, you’ve done well.’*
I hope to God there’s a heaven – ‘cause I’ve been living in hell.”*
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 10:48 AM UTC
Can you believe the betrayal we face,
Every day, from the people we trust most;
The people whom we confide in, trusting
That they will stand by us when we need them?
Then they turn away, leaving us alone,
Heartbroken and teary-eyed, beaten down
By the weight of the world left upon us.
Without our closest friends, we are nothing;
The world can trample us with but one step,
Pressing down hard, until we suffocate,
Without anyone to lift the burdens.
Still, we must continue living, wearing
A smile, so that those friends who betrayed us
Will believe we are stronger than we are.
It will defeat those people, and prove that
We can rise above disloyalty, and
Live a better life without those who have
Broken our hearts into many pieces.
That strength is quite admirable, they say,
Though truly, we cry in the dark, alone,
So no one will hear how, really, we are
Weak and broken apart by broken trust.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
Some are born balanced
On a precipice and remain
Tethered for the rest of their days
Overlooking barely there
Mental images
Fragments of a lucid dream
Of a conjured up past life
Once etched on skin
But no longer there
They speak of
Violent reinvention
And escape
While the hollow speaks
And catapults into spaces
Better left unknown
Psyches wrapped in denial
Running the gamut of habitual sins
Perpetuating legacies of pain
With hands that carry
The burdens of forefathers
Tiptoeing
In the twilight of dreams
Willing for the heavens
To send a spring that blooms
Hearts whose pounding
Reverberates endlessly
inside of ears
Eyes that get darker as they close
Meet with ours
A look
A sigh
Ascertaining a mutual recognition
Of the familiar
Shadows that plague.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
there is nothing between my
*******
only skin
that's the way it will stay
until the day when i become
attached
then, I will keep my problems
there. I will keep hatred and
the harsh words between my
plump fleshy hills
I will keep them there until
you strip me down and
wipe them away with your
rough fingertips and lift my
body and soul up to a better
place, more accessible to you.
the bra is burned
my body is alive
my body is ash
now.
so wipe them away
wipe away my burdens
and connect us now
crawl inside my cocoon
and turn me into a butterfly
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 5:56 PM UTC
For every night we've spent sitting on loveseats
crying about mistakes and burdens promising to haunt
us for the rest of our under-grad, I could've gotten a humanities
degree two years ago.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
PART II: A GLASS CEILING DRIPPING WITH BLOOD
Mohanad Younis, of Gaza City;
Where the sand is stained with blood
As the world feigns pity.
Broken families, unspoken tragedies –
The order of everyday life.
He was born amidst chaos and strife,
To a divorcing husband and wife.
If life were lived in peace,
This dissolution would’ve been a release.
Not much more, not much less –
A family’s lore, a decision to digress.
In war-ravaged land, however,
One needs every helping hand,
Especially a soul that was so clever.
Such a curious, voracious mind needed to understand;
A furious, rapacious search,
Unexplained conundrums to unravel and unwind.
Why do we exist?
Why do we fight and resist?
Is it worth living with all these scars on my wrists?
Does anybody outside Palestine care?
Will they keep on watching?
Or will they be unable to bear?
Of this and much more Mohanad must’ve thought,
As he sat at the Marna House Hotel,
Smoking cigarettes, freshly bought.
A student at al-Azhar, a mild-mannered pharmacist,
A prudent man who would have gotten far.
An admirer of Bassel al-Araj, another victim of oppression –
An inspirer, a brother who alleviated his depression.
Hunted down and killed by the IDF,
Another pacifist murdered for being an activist.
One figure of many who died;
One of those who did not want to hide.
Mohanad wasn’t a resistance fighter –
He felt that such persistence did not make their burdens lighter.
Instead, he wished to make his mind brighter,
And perhaps have family of his own.
He was in love, and wanted to get married,
But life was rough, and warranted a future far more harried.
The final twist of horror?
Having the intellect to apply for University,
And deserving the respect needed to obtain a reply,
Yet not being allowed to leave the city.
That is the news Mohanad had received,
Hopes and dreams suddenly deceived.
Denied a right to education
Because he was born on the wrong end of a cruel fabrication.
The glass ceiling, dripping with blood,
Swallowed his hopes whole like a flood.
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 10:04 AM UTC
i only write in the middle of the night
while the stars watch me
waste ink of blood
dripping from the veins of my brain
i only write in the middle of the night
while the moon guards me
as i write the message of my soul to the universe
solely dug from my heart
and suddenly everything comes back to reality
the sun sets high
illuminating the pitched black sky
and i wonder,
will i ever enjoy the daylight
while carrying the burdens i hold inside
a.t.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 7:23 AM UTC
darling girl,
why do you cry yourself to sleep every night
praying for someone
to come along and give you love,
to stay up with you till three in the morning
and listen attentively
as you list off all of your
passions, worries, burdens
to be envious of your attention
to kiss your forehead
and hold you without judgement
to be there for you
when you feel alone
to assure you everything will be okay
and remind you
that every sunrise and crashing wave
is a chance to make things right
when I’m right here
waiting for you with open arms,
ready to replenish
every empty space in your heart
because although you’re imperfect
and you hate the way
your front tooth is slightly crooked
I see you perfectly
darling girl,
why haven’t you opened your eyes to realize
that I’ve been here for you
all along
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 12:48 PM UTC
Must we go on believing
That the best is yet to come
When we both know for certain
All there ever was is done?
Because whatever we were meant to be
We never had a prayer;
You weren’t where you said you’d be
And I was never there.
I don’t mean to let you have it
Like I did back when in Rome
But the line goes slack for no one
And a soft tongue breaks the bone
But as for holding onto fullness,
As for reaching for my hand
All attempts are vain and useless;
I am never where I am.
So leave your burdens where they lie
With the words you’ve memorized
We said when we knew we’d fly,
And we’d never die,
And it was meant to be,
But it was fantasy;
And it was destiny
That won the duel
My beautiful little fool.
Farewell my love, farewell to you;
My beautiful little fool.
In spite of all that you’ve been taught
By the bull that you were bought,
And everything you think you thought:
You are what you are naught;
And all the days to come,
And all of your wisdom,
Will not save you from
Your heart’s rule
My beautiful little fool.
Farewell my love, farewell to you;
My beautiful little fool.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 10:28 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Good intent,
Flowers growing from the ground when you lift a finger,
Are you magic or just heaven sent,
with a sick twist in the back of your mind is redder than hell's grip,
Your love is not be paid for,
No open wounds or burdens,
but you'll be the only I'd die for,
If you're angry enough to knock down those endings,
but the moon is full,
and my hands are covering faces,
shadows collide with affection with a drizzle of lips,
the atmosphere,
is nice out here,
When I'm kissing you,
Need to shed your tears,
I'm here.
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 1:07 PM UTC
The journey seems to be bumpy, sometimes a dusky road,
Carrying the burdens, weighing our sins like a miserable toad,
Some pursue their passion, some pursue their degree,
Whatever the reason maybe,
Unclog your way, cruise over the hardships and set yourself free.
You'll be miffed by the mistakes you did,
Selling out wet pillows you'll weep and sow a depression seed,
And there will arrive times,
When they will doubt you, and you will doubt yourself,
But don't.. Don't ever doubt your devotion,
Grab the momentum and roll in the motion,
Though, squeamishness will thrive,
Remember the dream and thank him because you are alive,
Value every second, trade your life for it,
Open up your feathers, escape the pit,
Death invites everybody, someday you'll be gone,
Even the sun will set forever, there won't be any dawn,
Something belongs to you, its your throne,
With the choices you made, go fly,
Fly till the horizon.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:43 AM UTC
*There are scars in places I haven't seen,
There are nights you wish you couldn't dream
There are things which were taken away,
There are losses that will always stay
There are moments you want to die,
There are times you're too tired to cry
There are feelings no one will understand,
There are burdens that don't let you stand
There are people that broke your faith,
There are monsters that keep you encaged
There are nights when you let yourself grieve,
There are days that don't let the nights leave
There are all these unhappy things and sorrow,
But my love, there's also tomorrow
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 1:56 AM UTC
Listen to the minority’s burden
There are more than you may see
Your idea of equality
Is quite different from what I believe
The facts are alive and well
And terribly ignored
By many common folk who can not tell
What all we’ve been fighting for
Listen to our burdens
They’ve been here all along
Since the pale folks came for us
And decided they knew where we belong
Listen to my burden
I am more than my ethnicity
But no one pays attention to my character
Thank you, oh dear society
I’m not here to do your math homework
Or be the punch line of your joke
Or be the one who is categorized
As a yellow, squinty-eyed bloke
We have countless burdens
So listen to what we say
Please stop your patterns of racist jokes and ignorance
And realize that change must begin today
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
Lately, his patience runs thin.
Onerous burdens, born in mind,
Vested into he who allows them.
"Exhaustive, yet necessary," he sighs.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC