"deprive" poems
I used to smile all the time, all day and to everyone.
Along the path of my painful and difficult experiences I lost my smile
I have left segments of my smile in people’s lives
People who do not care to bring it back
Can I blame though? I let them take it
I let them take my smile
Their wear my smile on their faces as if it’s their own while I walk around without one
I have to make a new smile
It’s hard to because I was so used to the one I had
It was filled with genuine innocence, joy and life
Love, hope and faith
Yet now I wear a mask to cover up the non-existent smile I have
I listen to music to find my smile but I find pieces of myself rather in every song that I listen to
So I have lost my smile and myself
I don’t know who I am anymore
They took myself away from me
If I had opened my mouth and said something when I had the chance to
I’d have my smile and be myself
But here I am writing this poem, tears swelling in my eyes
My hands are cold and stiff
It’s hard to write about how I lost my smile
Will I ever get it back?
Time is going, the clock is ticking and days are passing
I am getting older and wiser yet I still have not my smile
Dear Little Child:
Do not let them take away your smile and innocence. You won’t know any better but because I have been in your shoes once upon a time I am asking you to not let them take away your life. For those are your most vulnerable and precious years and not everyone lived those years so they always want to deprive the innocent and clueless of their own years. If someone had warned me like I have warned you I would’ve lived to see your sinless face. Do not let them tell you otherwise, be who you are, be happy, live joyfully and most importantly do not them take away your smile for once it is taken you can never get it back again.
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
¤¤¤
I've had dreams by day
That brought the nightmares back.
In the daylights exposure it was dark
When the negative light was bright.
In the sea of people
I was the floating remains
Of a Great White's meal.
On the lonely roads of thought
My mind was in gridlock.
Comforting memories were suspended
Over a psychic black hole
By jagged and rusted
Medieval-type surgical tools.
My remaining senses
Were nailed to a cross-section
Of psychically atrophied grey matter
Along neural pathways
Guarded by gladiator-type tormentors.
Left with nothing
But the stinging desire to be freed
From a curse that had to be cured
And the hell of searching for a cure
When I was convinced there wasn’t one.
The powers that be come with force
To quell primal lusts & desires
Forbidding you of them
As they seductively
Dangle them before your eyes
Until you are so frustrated and unfulfilled
That you no longer
Care for your world.
This cracked glass remains empty
Even though it is constantly being filled
Then spilled or leaked on the floor
Until you learn to lap it up
Like the lapdog that you have become
For their amusement.
You remain with a love for freedom
But your cage is so large
That you think you are free
Lost in societal fantasy.
You think for a while
That these fantasies are real
Until you come to your senses that aren’t
As you join other fools
In comfort that you're not the only
Broken-back pack-mule.
But in spite of it all
And in the face of them all
Don't let these birds of prey
And powers that be
Deprive you of what they
cannot see
In that hidden corner
Of what is still untouched--
The real you
Uninfected by the world.
Take care of your spiritual affairs.
Don't let the global beast
And your primal hissing forces
Make you be your own pallbearer.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 6:28 PM UTC
Look into my eyes and you shall see
The innocence and solitude in me
I am all alone in this massive ball
No one to pick me when I fall
Touch my body and feel
The absence of countless meals
I have dug into several bins
To find a morsel from trashed tins
I have slept on cold hard grounds
A better place, still not found
I was soaked by the pouring rains
And disturbed by noisy trains
I have played with broken dolls
Drawn with charcoal on overfilled walls
I have prayed to all the gods I know
Their love makes my soul glow
I am a child too
Don’t deprive me of you
Cuddle me in your arms
A little crave for love means no harm
I know I am an orphan
And might not even get buried in a coffin
But don’t shoo me away so recklessly
Where is your humanity?
Don’t throw that money and walk away
Please hear me out or for a while just stay
If you know of an orphanage, take me there
I no longer want to live in despair.
-Zainab Attari
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC
Your method of parenting does not work.
You can't deprive a plant of light
and expect it to grow.
So why do you deprive me of happiness
and expect me to not drown
in sadness?
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 6:34 PM UTC
I lift my head ever so slightly,
snuggle back in.
When do we ever really owe ourselves?
And what?
Respect? A second chance?
Slumber is what we deprive ourselves,
or make bed-ridden with guilt,
when we should rejoice.
I am at peace when the phone is unimportant,
and I forget the day of the week.
Hell, this poem was perhaps my biggest feat.
But I'll tell you more, once I get some more sleep.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 11:58 PM UTC
I know it shouldn't matter at this date
Because relations are made on the net
But have you realized
Truly
Really
Realized how amazing having someone you care about around you?
When you are separated from your loved one for a long while, the first thing you do when you see them is
Hug them
Not kiss them
Not say "hi"
Not text it to your friend
Not post it on Facebook
You just hug the hell out of that person
Because humans need contact
We need what we deprive ourselves of knowingly
We hang by ourselves and think it's fine
It's not.
It's never okay.
Hug people
Tell them how you feel, de vive voix
Why linger around when anything could happen?
Tell them
Tell them all
And love them right
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 8:07 AM UTC
When my mom first thought that I was gay,
She and my father sat me down at the kitchen table.
I was fifteen and thought I was in love,
And all they could do was scream at me...
‘You’re a sin; what you feel isn’t natural.’
‘Where did we go wrong?’
And all I had wanted was to love in peace.
But apparently, that was too much to ask from them.
So I stifled myself.
I cut myself off from her and let us wither
Until there was nothing left of us because
I wasn't normal
And I was fifteen
And all I wanted was my mother’s approval
And how could I gain that if I wasn’t normal?
And then I was sixteen and I thought I was in love again
But this time with a seventeen-year-old boy
That knew nothing of love
And everything of sharp edges and even sharper words
But he spoke so pretty to me,
And how could I resist?
But he hurt me worse than anyone else that I’ve known
And he never even cared…
And then I was seventeen.
I was seventeen and my best friend had this mane
Of beautiful hair and I called her lovely and wife
And all the other silly little pet names that high school girls do
But little did she know that her smile
Lit fireworks inside my brain and the swarms of
Butterflies that beat in my chest rivalled that of a drum.
I thought she was beautiful.
I saw the universe in her.
But how could I admit that to myself without admitting it to
My mother, the one person whose validation I crave like
Air and water and life itself?
How could I admit to her that I wasn’t
Her little girl anymore?
That I was a disappointment?
And then I was eighteen.
I was eighteen and numb and not looking for anything when he found me...
I was eighteen and I thought that surely,
Surely
This was it, this was the feeling that I was waiting for.
But it wasn’t and I was eighteen and alone again
But this hurt worse than the others and then I was gone after that summer.
Now, I’m almost nineteen.
I’m almost nineteen and I’ve accepted the fact that
I will disappoint my mother;
The one whose opinion that I value the most;
The one that gave birth to me;
The only one that can tear me down until I feel like nothing.
But she’s my mother so how could I let her go
When she was there for my first word and my first steps
And every one of my other firsts.
My first date.
My first dance.
My first breakup.
She was there when I left for college, and she’ll be there when (if)
I get married.
Because regardless of my choices,
She loves me, and she always will.
And even if I can’t bring my partner home,
I will love her all the same.
So mom, if you see this,
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that I didn’t turn out how you wanted.
I’m sorry that I disappointed you.
But I’m not sorry for being who I am.
I’m not sorry for thinking women are beautiful
And men are handsome
Because all the world needs is a little bit more love,
And who am I to deprive it of that?
Mar 15, 2022
Mar 15, 2022 at 11:26 PM UTC
Sometimes you just have to accept the things that you cannot change.
Like, you can compulsive lie your *** off but it still cannot change what is true.
They say that the truth is the
hardest pill to swallow,
so instead I crush it up and I snort it.
Even if there were things that I could change I fear I'll just make it even worse,
so I mission abort ****
I lack the ability to actually change me,
and my courage is cowardly.
I'm hopeless, but I really do hope
that things will hurt less.
I'm useless, but I don't think that
I'll ever use less.
If not this, then it would be that.
It's all relative Nonsense where overall
you were just another substance.
But who am I to deprive misery of
its love for company,
honestly how could I possibly
maintain stability and be granted
any serenity, when all that is
surrounding me and inside of me is constant insanity ?..
Yeah, it's called Drug Abuse,
but is the term "Drug Abuse"
and the overall meaning behind it
really that simple ?..
In which being limited to the technical bottom line meaning and stating that by doing drugs you are abusing those drugs.
Where in other words the users
are apparently the abusers of the drugs that they use,
but isn't it possible that the drugs
actually abuse us too ?..
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 4:38 PM UTC
poor, slumped over and broken strangers
for a penny, share their paltry stories, one by one
snippets and scatters of half-truths and fables,
so raunchy they'd make Aesop blush.
don't deprive me of your salacious souls.
rented sea views with mirrors and doors,
unlocked drawers and white ***** floors,
with freshly dead ***** in claw-footed tubs.
rich luxury rich luxury rich luxury rich luxury
does that second home taste too sweet?
ears swallowed by bubble bath suds
head underwater, eyelids crushed and
stinging from the acrid chemical perfume;
drinking the bathwater in an unclean tub,
tasting notes of freesias and ***** green-blue.
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Peak temperature water levels fake diagnoses white psychopaths starving hunger jingoism violence [systems that deprive us] guns entitlement shots fired accidents grief/mourning choking hazard corporate mascots corporate favoritism corporate bailouts corporate people ideology without monitor nationalism patriotism conservatives patriarchy murder-rape-suicide victim silence lack of conviction religious ********** false history infant mortality job insecurity invisible hands trickle down economics union busters corporate police brutal police evil police secret police debt bankruptcy foreclosure homelessness lost confused prisoner criminal banker war preparations propaganda ballots commercials advertisements campaigns money power puppets figureheads armies genocides **** bomb gas fire no survival violence wealthy lawyers assassinations heart complications death sleep.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
I cloud my mind
with thoughts of You
as I drive myself out of
and sometimes into
a crime of one
a conspiracy of two
one was in love
the other was too
this love was arbitrary
t'was asserted by both
this love was ordinary
a relation that quotes
the names of You and I
and of how we're meant to be,
how we were not to try,
and of how we'll always be.
nothing was really asserted
nothing is really true
it was just from me to myself
and how I'll always love You
and so I cloud my mind
with thoughts of You
to remind me of sanity
to deprive Me of truth.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 7:27 AM UTC
I write in my underwear.
I write in my underwear, so my thoughts are not caged
underneath my clothes.
I refuse to look at the screen.
I only look at my fingers, hitting the keys as rhythmically as I say the words in my head.
I type because my thoughts are too fast
And I fear if I write I will forget
I am one of many.
One of many who speak because they cannot help it.
Whose words burst forth from their lips in spontaneous spasms of passionate opinions.
We will not hold our tongues
We will not mind our manners
And we will not conform to please
For we are romantics,
and poetics,
and hopers, and dreamers,
and liars, and cheaters.
We not only do things because we feel them,
But because we want to experience them.
And with are experiences
Of love, tragedy, happiness, and despair
We aim to awaken passion in others.
Others who fear emotion.
We aim to shake them
And awaken the life that they have.
I will not confine my soul
inside a cubical
And I will not shut my window
and deprive the world of my dreams
And I will not straighten my curls and **** the energy that they harbor
And I will not cage my thoughts underneath my clothes
It is for them, and for us
I write in my underwear
Jun 2, 2010
Jun 2, 2010 at 10:50 PM UTC
*Kiss me
with every breath
you're willing
to deprive yourself
of.*
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
To the freebird that wants to fly,
Let her fly.
To the freebird that yearns to soar high,
Let her heart forever pump delight,
To the freebird that aims high,
Let her sobs reach no height,
To the freebird that often asks 'why?'
Let her world be full of soothing surprise,
To the freebird that always simplifies,
Never, never, doubt her why's.
To the freebird, that will never be your type,
Know, perceive that she's unique,
and the best of her type!
To the freebird, who's only need is her flight,
Her fluttering feathers, her skies,
Don't limit, don't judge,
Don't argue, and do not deprive,
Just let her fly
High and high
High and high
To the infinite,
Unending heights.
....as that's what will only set you both alright!
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 4:43 PM UTC
I. Apply foundation in a tone more perfect than the one you're born with,
doubt that there's anything beautiful in the term "natural"
blot your lips with the cherries you deprive yourself of
and wonder, "What good is difference when it's not appreciated?"
stop reading this.
II. Forget how you were born;
every freckle,
every beauty mark,
every uneven line etched into your face are nothing to be celebrated.
Deprecate yourself, you are unwound and beg this world to shape you in its eyes.
skip this line.
Society speaks subjectively of happiness, but fill your head with lies
that we're all pretty if we can keep up our disguise.
The weight of this world upon your shoulders,
alludes to being big as too much to handle.
Curl into everyone's palm as if you're so fragile,
they have to pinch the skin on your bones with the thumb and index finger.
stop.
III. Draw on the perfectly plump pout, filled with nothing but
expectations of everyone else.
Your beauty is not a privilege for anyone,
but judgment that has defined your worth.
skip.
Emprises that market upon your insecurities,
admire that solemn face in the mirror
as the reflection discourages you
at the acknowledgement of any impurities
Start.
How To Be Beautiful Lifelong
Admire the history that lives within the heartlines of your palms,
how strong you've grown, once cradled in your mother's arms.
Disregard where it is you've come from, but how much further you've journeyed forward.
I. Apply the sincerity in your best friend's voice when
she calls the time you've spent together, beautiful.
Do not doubt the splendor that comes from wisdom.
II. Every wrinkle you've earned,
as time gives back to you from lessons learned.
Blot your lips during the release of laughter
as saliva mists through the air,
your joy so vigorous
the ghosts residing in the graves
regret no more.
You are as you should be,
a composite of everything that gives you life
and grants you purpose.
Begging for this world to love you,
there is no fault in this desire.
They speak of happiness as if
it's only a potential-oriented concept,
Do not let your heart surround the gossip
or it's golden armor become bronzed.
III. Draw on the canvas of existence
in the brightest of hues, in the purest of love.
Filled with nothing, but expecations for yourself
say farewell to the darkness
open the curtains to light.
Your beauty is magnificent
as your name will be transcendent.
In each day we decide to be ourselves,
the poise presents itself.
—V.H.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC
The rabbit haunts from a distance, patrolling fields for one to bear witness.
Gracefully the tenderfoot stalks, keeping a watchful eye out for Mr.Fox.
The creature walks with a slight limp, other animals often call him a gimp.
This way, that way, it all seems wrong, keeping time with a lost robin's song.
His home constructed as a single story wonder, located within a large tree laying asunder.
Family life wasn't right, as fleeting an image as a wayward kite.
A field mouse, left without spouse,
Stumbled upon the home in a tree, accompanied by a group of songbirds filled with glee.
The field mouse was asked to go, the creature in response, simply said no.
A man stumbled up, as mad as a hatter, his portly girth made it hard to imagine being any fatter.
He spoke of intrinsic right, boundless visions beyond sight.
Told the rabbit he had a duty to the mouse, saying it immoral to deprive him of a house.
The rabbit, reluctant to accept , found out from the man of the true evils in neglect.
He was told that he didn't own the home, it had simply been gifted as a goodwill loan.
That meant it was as his as much as the rabbits, regardless of any perspective habits.
With that the moused moved in, and brought with him his prized snakeskin.
Over a meal the mouse spoke of danger, coming in the form of a wandering stranger.
He told the rabbit, this creature travelled light, but usually shrouded in the cover of night.
Said the creature was not large in size, though his methods of thievery seemed quite wise.
The rabbit recoiled in his chair, as the field mouse offered up a demonic glare.
The field mouse grinned from ear to ear, sensing this rabbit's new grasp on fear.
Pulling the snakeskin from his sack, the dried shell was quick to crack.
The mouse spoke of a brave duel, between him and this monster, which had downed a mule.
He used every ounce of his cunning, and sent the legless beat running.
It wasn't good enough for the mouse, who was certainly no louse.
He tracked the snake for six long hours, through a field of partially bloomed flowers.
In the end he killed the snake, then took its skin so listeners knew the tale wasn't fake.
He held the skin, I mean the mouse, and said he'd hang the shell within the house.
Mr. Rabbit was found dead two days after, his body lay desecrated next to the snakes, hanging from a rafter.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
I want to be a king,
Not the king who wants to boast with the title attached to his name;
Not the king to whom only exercise of power and authority is his aim;
Not the king whose work is only meant to bring him fame;
Not the king who will blame others but himself will he not blame.
I want to be a king,
The kind of king whose heart is broken when his people are in pain;
The kind of king who considers the comfort of his people as great gain;
The kind of king who will ensure that his people are never slain;
The king who will encourage love among his people but hate he will restrain.
I want to be a king,
Whose interest is to search diligently to find something vital to do in a man’s life;
A kind of king who will fight immorality and would not desire another man’s wife;
A kind of king who will encourage peace among his people by authorizing that they put away strife;
A king who could deprive himself of comfort if it means providing his people with a standard life.
I want to be a king,
The kind of king whose desire is not to be served but to serve;
The king who will not withhold the wage of the poor but pay every man exactly what he deserves;
The king who would rather die than see others starve;
The king who will not divert or misuse the funds in his nation’s reserve.
I want to be that king,
Who will win the trust of his people only by being trustworthy;
Who will place the interest and livelihood of his people firstly
That king who will always represent his people by acting and speaking justly;
The king who for the sake of the innocent, bring to judgement the guilty.
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 3:38 AM UTC
i will try to deprive myself of you, to distant myself from you
i will try not to look at you too much nor initiate a conversation with you
i will try not to mind how you look nor to mind how you speak
i will try to resist breaking your wall; to resist trying to approach whenever i see you online or alone
i will try to look at what's bad about you - your inability to be true to yourself of what you really feel, to your coldness, your indifference, your offenses
i will try to ignore you each day in hopes that i will not hope for you
i will try to calm my heart whenever i see your messages on my phone or whenever you're near
i will try not to admire your music taste, your smarts
i will try not to think of you nor dream about you at night
i will try not to sneak a peek
i will try to protect my heart from you
i will try to hate you really hard
but please
don't go looking at me, too
with those gentle eyes of yours
it makes all of these futile if i catch you checking on me too
you're a tease boy, don't make this so hard on me
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 9:44 PM UTC
The relentless effort to exhale
Emotions, with composed face,
That's me around you
Your presence alone
deprive me of the power of resistance
I Lose control, become irrational
That's me around you
Your flawless beauty, intoxicating my vision
Entertaining my every senses
Teasing the mere faculty to see beyond.
.........that's me around you.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
*I could compare envy to jealousy
quite easily
but that would be a disservice
to envy
Not to mention a disservice to jealousy.
Jealousy and envy are two
distinct emotions
And two distinct sins but
Envy is both malign and benign.
Envy that most unhappy of the sins.
And, unhappy I was watching you with her.
Envious of her, because she got to touch you
Kiss you, need you, love you.
I wished misfortune on you every time
I saw your joy in each other.
I coveted you.
I scarcely thought of anyone else.
My unhappiness, envy, made me send ill will
your way. Intensely petty thoughts of ill.
So much it made me unhappy, and yet mattered nil.
I'd rendered and reduced you to a possession
MINE.
Why her? Was I not merry and pretty enough?
I desired you above all
yet I was the one to fall from grace.
I turned inward, into a covetous envious hag.
I wanted to deprive you of her
for you to see only me, irony.
In Dante's Purgatory, the punishment for the envious
is to have their eyes sewn shut with wire
because they have gained sinful pleasure from seeing others brought low.
The only one brought low was me.
I gained no pleasure*
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 3:10 PM UTC
I used to face the light
The world was so bright
I looked to my future
Now my demons pick fights
Although it's sunny and my soil is dry
My tears are her to help me fertilise
Now I have reason to let myself cry
People call me beautiful
I can't seem to see it
But the monsters in my head
They won't stop until I'm dead
They deprive me of sunlight
The wont allow me to smile
In this garden of hell I won't last long
I guess it's time I say goodbye
I'm a broken sunflower and have been for a while..
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 5:04 AM UTC
*give me more. baby
oh, i need your touch
fall in love, maybe
i've given you so much
say you'll never leave
stay right by my side
don't make me say please
begging just ain't right
you know what i'll do
to attain your eyes
want every part of you
between my thighs
so gentle and soft
you bring me alive
i'll pay any cost
so you won't deprive
baby, will you just
give me what I want*
Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 2:37 AM UTC
Smoke your ****
Inhale it well.
Take a deep breath.
Wake up in a prison cell.
You’re doing nothing with your life
Except sitting alone in your strife
Your insecurities eat you alive
Take the razor in your skin, and swan dive
I could waste my time and plot revenge.
An ode to my broken heart, I would avenge.
But you already wallow in self pity
While you sit on your bed all nice and pretty.
When I first liked you, I saw you as ten feet tall.
Now, I don’t even think of you at all.
Your face screams danger, your body screams deprive.
Your soul screams anger, your body is begging you to die.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 1:07 PM UTC
The blood that bleeds
It bleeds and leaks
Emotions pour out
Releases the doubt
Down your arm
Its calling out
That shiny blade
It screams and screams
LET ME OUT
Your cares and dreams
Wanna shout
Take me out
Push me in
Deeper and deeper
Your getting weaker
You can't refuse
Nothing to lose
Emotions drain
With every slice
Feeling alive
For that pain
You can't deprive
And when it dries
You cry and cry
You see that blade
Calling out
CUT THE PAIN AWAY
Just breakout
Checkout of life
Slice to bleed
Bleed to slice
Roll the dice
Take a chance
Stop the pain
Of sharp romance
Another way
Not today
Its no coincidence
Its confidence
Believe
Not in a crisp blade
In chances and life
DROP THE KNIFE
Its not your friend
This is the beginning
That's the end
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt
what is right
but then this... time and space
a half a world away
is that what it is then
that would deprive me of true happiness
afraid
nay not just afraid, terrified
of the day I wake and walk out of this dream
the one with promises that can't possibly be promised
and nay I do not blame you
no I blame the vastness of time
and the unseen forces that seem to feed on misery
I do not want to be realistic
I do not want to be feasible
I want to fight this reality every minute
and live in denial
but I will wait and see
please winds of change don't rip away my dreams
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC