"cowardliness" poems
For so long I've waited for you to notice me.
Your hair has turned gray from the stress,
lost hope is marked on your face.
I wonder if deception or courage is to blame.
The missed train
the last stop—the getaway—
Every run reflecting your cowardliness
How dare you abandon me in this hollow place,
holding the key of faith and opportunities.
Copyright© Cynthia Ulloa
All rights reserved.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
She's tapped into another realm
Sitting on top of the world
Resonating the astral plane
At least in my mind
She's above me
So divine
A crown wrapped in flowers and gold
Diamonds in the sky
Cut through the noise
and crack down to shatter the Earth
Looking pretty amongst the chaos
She catches my eyes to bring the temptation of the Goddess
Always within reach
but afraid to touch
to release
Let go of everything
This is where our souls intertwined
The tango of our 9-5
Looking forward to breaks in reality
Our survival mechanisms
From the bottom to top
Where her crown connects realms of telepathic foreplay
A mindfuck of sorts
Black and blue balled by the true cowardliness of reality.
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
I'm scared of pain,
I'm scared of blood,
I'm scared of heights,
I'm scared of blades,
maybe that's why ending my life would be
mission impossible for me.
I'm scared of clowns,
I'm scared of spiders,
I'm scared of horrors,
I'm scared of dark rooms,
I guess that's why I seem to live up my days,
holding against all hardships, troubles, and fear in me,
leaving "the end" out of my bucket list,
for all of my cowardliness has saved me instead.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 9:39 AM UTC
Born of barrows blood and acorn goodness:
honest as nature and prodigious as her harvest.
Cursed with cowardliness, blessed with bulk
but an irksome intellect invariably finds fault.
The pain of creation softened by canine affectation,
and artificially-altered perception.
Jul 18, 2011
Jul 18, 2011 at 2:59 PM UTC
Inside breastbones of all humans contained
Two wolves, one white one black, endure a fight
Each rages war against its brethren named
They lunge, they gnash, and bite with all their might.
The white is pure of heart and pure of soul
It is joy, forgiveness, and charity
The goodwill, love, and hope that makes us whole
And teaches us courage and humility
The black is one heartless and corrupted
Spills sorrow, wrath, and greed into the air
It exploits our pride, envy, and hatred
Fills us with cowardliness and despair
And in the duel that dwells within each host
The one that wins, the one you feed the most
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC
The true one shall come from a strange land
The land I will harvest from
I will meet you first in the light
on that very night
I’d look into your bright
eyes and I’d feel great
so I’d fell in love from that sight
and would go to bed that night
I’d had an option to tell you the truth
but would decide to shut my mouth
because I’d felt it would still be at youth
to speak such unusual truth
which could be so disgraceful to my personality
short awhile I’d fell to sleep
In my sleep, I’d bleed the pain
of unsaid feeling
thinking of seeing her again
so I can pasture her like a sheep
following the awe to ascertain
and satisfy its feeling
She’d been a passer-by or a mate
so not certain I’d meet her again
but the feeling I can't say to anybody in vain
because it's her I’d feel this for
cowardliness is an awkwardness
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 10:54 AM UTC
You're searching for even the slightest validation for your inexcusable actions, transient in both values and the physical realm, collecting conquests and usurpees like how one might collect trophies from animals they hunt, faces frozen in a false expression with unseeing glassy eyes as they are forever immortalised in your sick collection to be made a mockery of long after the passage of time takes it's toll on both the images and the subjects.
A calculated maliciousness disguised as an indecisive personality, you are a bottom-feeder grafting onto the bellies of whomever are blissfully unaware or trusting enough to swim by you; but your own is yellow as a summer's day is long; not from just cowardliness, no, but from **** (sans the vinegar), and I wish I could compose this prose into something a little less hateful and a little more tasteful, but I won't spare you another second of my time, I'll erase you from my mind.
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 7:26 AM UTC
he watches Her because she is one of those people who demands attention
She is wild and bold and sarcastic
he sees, though he is blind to Her insensitivity
she stares at Another because He is one of those people who sits at the back beautifully
He is good and charming and kind to His mother
she sees, though she closes her eyes to His cowardliness
he longs after The Girl who is taken because She is one of those people dreamt of
She is polished and pure with a bright smile
he sees, though he is oblivious to Her vanity
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
bodes well..so well
in shadows we are crawling
in secret we make vows
in total silence we learn of all things
bodes well...so well
wars shall end the earth soon
wars of madmen's greed
wars allowed by our lazy carelessness
our cowardliness
our own greed
bodes well.so well
knowing what matters
again
knowing eachother
and bidding
to do eachother
well
again
Aug 25, 2010
Aug 25, 2010 at 12:47 PM UTC
My thoughts stopped visiting my brain.
My imagination got lost somewhere in the infinity of my aloneness but I don't feel loneliness.
I'm a walking comatose and I feel so futile, so deterrent of myself.
But I guess these feelings are inevitable.
Maybe I'm too afraid to sit in a sail boat without a paddle and drift into the sea.
Maybe the circumspec of my cowardliness, has dived so deep into the depths of mind.
I don't feel alive, I don't feel alone,
I don't feel numb anymore.
I used to believe that pain was the God of life.
For if pain didn't exist, I wouldn't know what being alive meant.
Not even if it shrunk into a tiny razor blade and cut an entrance on scars or scabs on my body.
To rediscover past wounds and lessons learned.
Just to make me feel humility or little more human.
Maybe I'm just caught in between that moment before unconsciousness strikes.
When the lack of oxygen slowly expires.
As you gasp for air and grasp for something to breath life back into your soul again.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 3:27 AM UTC
The only thing I have left is my sadness
The jagged pieces of myself scattered across the floor
I wish there was something else
I wish I could do something other than fall apart
But it seems I have no choice
Could blame it on my brain
Irony gets me once again
For I try to avoid weakness, cowardliness
But in doing so I make myself just that:
Weak and pitiful to think any different
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 8:55 PM UTC
my mascara became my foundation
and my lipstick now turned into blush.
just like you once were my inspiration
just like our car ride is now a car crash.
and my hair used to be bright and healthy
my skin used to feel lively to touch.
now i can't even see my reflection
i don't think i have got one as such.
once i smiled and felt so rejoicefull
now i can't look up, not when you're there
never thought i could be so regretful
left alone with so much love to spare.
i won't hold on to you, you are hollow
empty like a life for those who live
once they no longer have who to follow
and they're just not yet ready to lead.
only the guy above knows i have suffered
tortured like a witch, like a weak slave
i will always love you, you're unworthy,
but your cowardliness did make me brave.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
I am minuscule.
Shame and remorse lie on my breath,
An ample bed.
Fear overcame me,
And thus I was deceived by my own self.
An abundance of cowardliness,
That lead to pain and suffering,
Continuing ever still.
My mind and will are weak,
But bound by love,
I hope to keep.
Fear,
That I will never be good enough.
Too many mistakes.
Too many slips and falls.
Too many cliches.
Too much dependency.
Too much weakness.
Too much reliance.
Too much regret.
Not enough affection.
Not enough truth.
Not enough surety, confidence.
Not enough time.
I fear,
That I will not grow fast enough.
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 10:38 PM UTC
Self given scars
do not sing the songs
of one's glory
yet
only of the
cowardliness.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 12:57 PM UTC
a competitive narcissist
dressed in fear
you suffocate me
with shallow love
you wear jealousy in silence
over accessorize
with cowardliness
holding fists of everything left unsaid
as your knuckles bleed white
you make reality darker
step outside your reflection
get out of your head
let your flaws glisten
let them be seen
and burned to ashes
to fill the void kept between us
trudge through
create a path
up the mountain of humility
reminisce
when the white wave crashed over us
as i told you no
and the colors that bled through
were louder
than the screams of a prey being hunted
listen
till your ears bleed
and you’re locked out of ego
leave the key
never to be felt again
Apr 3, 2021
Apr 3, 2021 at 8:59 PM UTC
I see where I linger
Between the forestry,
My heart beats for his voice,
Between the forestry,
I scream to ask him,
I need to feel my fingertips,
So speak the words I told you to,
But my head won't give in to let me free.
Between the forestry,
I see that he is wounded,
I know that I should leave him alone,
Between the forestry,
But I need my voice to carry on,
And there's no doubting my own cowardliness.
So I go,
Go away,
Far from this place,
So I go,
Away,
Away,
Away...from him.
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 5:15 PM UTC