Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"indited" poems
One way to be very happy is to be very rich For then you can buy orchids by the quire and bacon by the flitch. And yet at the same time People don't mind if you only tip them a dime, Because it's very funny But somehow if you're rich enough you can get away with spending water like money While if you're not rich you can spend in one evening your salary for the year And everybody will just stand around and jeer. If you are rich you don't have to think twice about buying a judge or a horse, Or a lower instead of an upper, or a new suit, or a divorce, And you never have to say When, And you can sleep every morning until nine or ten, All of which Explains why I should like very, very much to be very, very rich.
0
2.3k
Lines Indited With All The Depravity Of Poverty
Million miles away I stand Alone like a lone tree On a desert Apart from thee Yet thy love Sprut through me And exult my heart But trickle tears from my eyes Million miles away I hike Through the endless dunes to thee All day but day When the blistering sun poach my breath And gets a quartre a mile Million miles away The beautiful blue skies Alms me thy mirage figurine But enfeeble to caress thy face With a short hand Million miles away All the letters I indited for thee And left in the whirlling storms Went afar but near Into the valleys And gradually parched my words Million miles away The sun walks across in furry As my hopes are burried Ever to reach thee And preach my love Million miles away Twilight comes And I wander in the midst of ghost shadows My soul drowns Like am dip into the wells Million miles away Night comes And I lied in the cold breeze Dreaming about thy touches and kisses Yet I wake up , With no side nor sight of thee Million Miles Away ©Historian E.Lexano
0
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 9:21 AM UTC
Million Miles Away
Sewn yourself through not a part left that hasn't been touched by you your embroidery is lovely it colors my face it paces my hate it swallows my fate not a needle I wouldn't take by you I'm an addict, I can see that now happily inebriated by your loves cloud indited it'd be, out loud but captured close and enshroud of perfect pink dreams I'm afraid of crashing, stinging afraid all they'll be bringing pain, disconnect, heart wreaking when they canter away your pictures return new, beloved, gay I am pound again and again by delicate hands holding needle and thread love has been like a quilt where I am your mural forever colored by being your girl and you're covered hopefully I'm more than your in love drunkard
0
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 2:02 AM UTC
Needlepoint
O', my despondent Love! You were the Prayer; Nebulous to these eyes Illegible to these lips, You were the prayer With the Verses, That my Heart Recited Every Divine night, When Those Tranquil Rays of Moon Embraced the Rising Waves Of Ocean, When The Zephyrs Caressed The Earth, When the Galaxies Slumbered in the Lap of Universe; Listening to the Lullabies of Silence, You were the Prayer, Whose Verses- Were indited by the Crimson Ink Of my Pen, Yes, you were the Prayer of my Life, That fulfilled the Wish Of Igniting the Candle of Rue, In the Temple of- Euthenia, On the Lands of Famines!!
0
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 4:33 AM UTC
A prayer
While there was one, Indited upon. And the other, Folded into an envelope. But was I not more envious, Of the ink stained letter Privileged enough To be enshrouded, Embraced, By the sleeve With so much love.
0
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 3:22 PM UTC
Paper
Hand over my heart Handing me the bill Handling the parts Of blood and soul, to spill In the mind so vindicated In retrospect, no fault Indited and intoxicated An overt, self-assault Eased into conceiving Easily swallowing the pill Easier yet, believing No bending of my will No home for the wicked soul No love for the devil within No way to know how deep the hole Or the width, and breadth of sin
0
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 3:58 PM UTC
Buried Guilt