"injures" poems
Emaciated bones
Shivering in shrunken clothes.
Wrinkled faces,tired eyes
Watching the sun is their only prize.
Tears burn their cut up skin
Work injures up their shins.
They cannot speak for they weep for their farmlands
They are so used to work,even with their old hands.
They are dying,dying like flies
Because they are poor and these are their lives
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
The water haunts my house. Appearing so very often.
The nights on which it comes
tears apart all in its path.
No one can stop it.
It burns as it gets a hold of your throat and kills your insides with each sip
a sip so deadly you don't realize there until it hits you so hard you cant stand correctly,
so hard it slurs your words and will make you feel what anger is trapped deep inside you
So deadly it makes you feel as if your dependent on it.
It is planted in your mind,
making you think of it every second of the day, craving the sweet relief of un-quenched thirst.
Water kills you and the ones who love you.
Water needs to stay in the cabinet tucked away
where no harm is done.
So my dad will no longer hurt himself or me and mommy.
He is not deadly just the water that kills and injures.
The water haunts my house.
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 7:12 PM UTC
(contains references to sensitive issues)
She’s just a babe
he’s only two
of youth refill
they’re broken in
but leave no mark
so they're unspoiled
for clients booked
it's all arranged
no tracks you'll leave
their brain's not through
not 'til they’re three
so chill out dame
the program works
divert impel
‘'you crazy sh-t
here take this pill’
nobody hears
if told some tales
but they won't talk
their lips are sealed
from dot they’re trained
they’re here for us
don't have to guess
‘you talk, you die!’
so pay the fee
their price is high
and bring this dog
they’ll do it all
and shouldn’t you
take all you're due
you work real hard-
on nectar sup
-
Stop! Not so quick
for veils can lift
and imprints made
don’t ever die
archival facts
reveal themselves
when day arrives
you’ll face the Judge
and when you breach
a petal new
it injures both
and gear stick shifts
you've soiled life's bed
with squalid stains
now own the Sh-t
says mirror man
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 6:11 AM UTC
the rude gesture when one seeks the inelegant simplicity of
no words;
no words
suffice to say,
magnitude of some offenses requires physicality;
a physicality that injures nothing but the
surrounding atmosphere of
its pride
for it’s pride
that goeth before the fall,
the pursuit of dishonor and dishonoring,
given that,
it shames the giver as much if not more so
dishonor
for words are our truest masters
I'd rather you gave a round shout out of
**** you,
for as the parents say these days
use your words
rather than show me your
nail chewed runty midfielder
ah, words...I do so love them beasties
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
Silence
Drops a dark void on deep thinkers
The wool over their eyes
The sound of their cries
Silence
Pulls the rug out from under legs
Hopes drop to the ground
Dreams shatter to pieces
Silence
Gives time to think for the mad
Time to mourn for the sad
Time for decline of the joyous
Silence
Darkness engulfs the area surrounding
There is nothing
There is no one
Silence
It injures
It ruins
It kills
Silence
It never ends
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
When I force frozen
meat apart before
it’s had time to thaw
it injures and tears
where the ice clings
too tightly.
The meat no longer
whole, scatters into
broken bones and
bleeding fragments.
Your absence undoes
me like this not all at
once, but with a quiet
rip, where we once
held each other too
close to separate
without breaking.
Jul 23, 2025
Jul 23, 2025 at 12:04 AM UTC
Is it I or them, that fate has forced
to shadow in my lifeless eyes
for truth has bitterness to pay
and flame light flares along its path
when right and wrong are undiscerned
and creatures stir within their cage
when parents clip the wings of birds
and suffer them their broken ways
there lives between uncertain wrongs
an urge to end the war outside
to flee from all you say is true
and debts that cost too much to pay
yet finding manifested strong
the time to read between the lies
we spindle back the fraying cord
that blindly leads us to the grave
I've sauntered to the blackened gates
and laughed out at the red inside
that fails pride and injures truth
and falls down where it cannot rise
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
Where along did the line become dotted?
When did the line become crossable through gaps?
Steady white line, double parallel yellows
Following this lined street till I find the end,
Till I get to the bottom,
Till this drawn line stays constant and cannot be crossed.
Who was the first to cross this line that is so drawn on my soul?
That so moves me to boil with red convection and spill
Drips down my pan side face. Third degree flame ignited pain
In every line of bone and vain in my body.
Walking by playground filled with shouts and laughs,
Stomping little feet, hands of monkeys.
Nothing but joy and impressions, pressed into the skin.
Children are so easily impressed.
The blacktop filled with lines is the child’s whole world
Of lines to frolic at four-square or hop-scotch to the jungle bars.
On the way to the cafeteria to lunch with pink and blue tennis shoes
And lunch boxes of Snow White and Buzz Lightyear
Listen when told to stay in line.
Listen to:
Lines of scratched skin. Lines crossed.
Lines of makeup drips. Lines crossed always remembered.
Lines of people trying to forget
Being line crossed by one who found a gap.
In the middle of that same bad dream
I always try to wake you up before it happens.
To you who veers the line, you who crossed
You who stings, you who injures:
When and where I meet you,
I will show you these lines.
I will teach you.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
How my mind as that of a child
Frivolous and foolish seeks solace
In a fictitious world of make believe
While reality, like a fiend stares right on my face!
Waiting for none, the globe continues to spin
And seasons arrive and depart without default
Yet how I wish to think,
With my exit, the world will come to an abrupt halt
When I am gone and lie cold under the sod
And my memory no more lingers
How I wish to feel
My absence continually injures
Gains and losses when added up
Weighs equal on life’s dispassionate balance
Yet how I wish to boast
With success alone, I ever had my alliance
Though I never reached the peak I sought
And faltered on my way distraught
How I wish to console
I got everything for which I had fought
Future awaits me with gloom and gaiety
And victory is certain to follow defeat
Yet how I wish to proclaim
Here is one for whom life shall ever be a treat!
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 12:46 PM UTC
Do you know what’s good in this world?
You, you ****** idiot,
expending all your energy
whirling and worrying
about what others think
while your very industry stops them sinking,
you almighty dingus
You bally fool!
Your absence injures
in increments felt by each person
you vex for, who miss you
which add in mounds and scores
and you shaped piles
while they would run for miles
to keep you in their orbit
So,
you massive plum,
let yourself feel it
Mar 25, 2021
Mar 25, 2021 at 2:38 PM UTC
Violets are red
Roses are blue
Gloves are for feet
Hands go in shoes
Pants hang on flagpoles
Flags hang out of pants
Water is for mopping
Save it on fake plants
Hungry people eat
Starving people starve
Recycled paper saved the forest
Just another product to be carved
Park benches are for bums
Parking lots are for the homeless
Raise taxes to give to the needy
Makes more people jobless
Live flowers to the die-ing
Dead flowers to the sewer
Ghosts are imaginary
Walk around the grave to be sure
Bomb at home injures just one
Mass riots ensues
Bomb at the neighbors kills hundreds
Lets review the latest shampoos
Rap is black
Country is red
The old live longer
But the schools are dead
Think outside the box
Draw inside the lines
I'll make my own indecisions
And let my own colors shine
Dec 5, 2011
Dec 5, 2011 at 1:48 AM UTC
Man of tricks never ever succeeds
Why to play with broken beads
Third rate man with ***** deeds
Sows ***** seeds ,get ***** needs
Man is but master of tricks of trade
Cuts innocent other with sharp blade
To get his greed he is to serenade
Hence gets his face just fade to fade
Lust runs in veins like ***** blood
Hence he becomes victim of flood
Injures himself being a cactus bud
***** mud just goes back to mud
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 2:57 AM UTC
The melody in my head
keeps haunting me
hurts my heart
injures my brain
paralyses my body
erases my sense of belonging
stop at once..
I hate this song...
The lyrics my pain
the rhythm my scar
its bleeding again...
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 12:34 AM UTC
My therapist told me that I was in an abusive relationship.
I laughed, and said I know.
You see, when your whole life you've been neglected, abused, and taken advantage of, you search for small pieces of that in your soulmate.
I've turned down many men who would've treated me "right" but all I craved was wrong.
If they were never broken themselves how could they ever understand my pieces.
I know it's not pretty, but I don't want to date a pretty man.
I don't want a man who eats privilege for breakfast in the morning, or had his whole life planned out for him before he was even born.
Every time I have a bad day I don't need to be greeted with chocolate and roses, I wouldn't even know how to accept that.
When he roars I see fire and it ignites my lust for him, it's how I was taught love.
When he pushes me I find peace in the words of comfort after.
I don't want a man who could punch me in the face, but sometimes when he gets mad I need that.
It's how broken people were taught to love.
I chase the danger that our loves sparks.
So dear therapist,
Don't worry about me, I'll be fine.
The day he put his hands around my throat, or injures my essence, is the day I walk out the door.
Don't worry therapist.
I know what I'm doing, I know what I've gotten myself into.
Walking away is what I'm good at.
I've been practicing my whole life.
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
Have you ever heard the story of the young girl?
Who ventured into the hospital after a life-changing mistake.
The girl who spends her days hiding the red lines on her arms and legs.
The young girl who proclaimed the perfect life.
Have you?
I bet you haven’t.
Nobody heard mine
Not a single soul.
My name is Aya
And it’s been 1,460 days since I’ve been alone.
It’s been 1,095 days since I’ve been hurt.
And It’s been 730 days since I’ve been broken
And this is my story.
The one nobody cared to listen to, and nobody cared to write.
A story of a young girl with brown hair up in a bun.
With the only worry being next week’s math test.
A story of a young girl who seemed she’d forever be in her awkward phase
of the early teenage years.
The story of a girl with an annoying brother
And worrisome parents.
The story of a girl with a poodle named Cocoa
And a cat named Mushu.
The story of a young girl with a great life
But made one stupid, fast, misjudged decision.
That felt she had to prove to someone that she was grown up.
That she could handle the big stuff.
The story of a young girl who at just 12
Became with child.
The story of a young girl who at just 12
Was told to get married.
The story of a young girl
Who would become a single parent.
The story of a young girl
Who at 12 became without a home.
The story of a young girl
Who at the age of 13 experienced the loss of her child.
The story of a young girl who ended up alone
Without her newborn child.
The story of a young girl
Who spent her days looking for edible berries in the forest.
The girl who spent her nights
Lurking in the shadows at the home she once had that vaguely smelled of strawberries.
The girl who at the age of 14
Diagnosed herself with depression.
The girl who at the age of 14
Diagnosed herself with anxiety.
The girl who ventured back to her home
To only be scolded by her Mother.
The girl who learned of the second loss in her family
Her dear brother Evan.
The girl who watched the funeral in a distance
So that nobody could hear her wailing cries.
So, nobody could feel the pressuring guilt that radiated off her, as her soul broke.
When she found out her brother had taken his life when she never came back home.
The story of a girl who forced herself into foster care
Going house to house.
The girl who marked red lines on her arms
To try and cope with the pain.
The story of a girl who
Ran to the lake once the clock struck two.
And jumped in not bothering or wanting to come up.
And not hearing the deafening cries of a young detective.
The story of a girl
who at the age of 16
was wheeled into the hospital doors.
with injures beyond repair
and a slim will to live.
The story of Aya
a 12-year-old girl
who made one decision
that caused years of suffering for many.
Feb 14, 2020
Feb 14, 2020 at 10:12 PM UTC
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I'm not sure what you think,
But I really like you.
Seeing you,
Brings me into a better mood,
Leaving you,
Causes me to brood.
If you are sad,
I'll be by your side,
To get rid of anything bad,
And be your guide.
Anyone who injures you,
Will be far from fine,
After whatever ensues,
Revenge will be mine.
What I do,
Might be unbearable,
But it is used to,
Make you feel special.
My actions might seem excessive,
Or even far-fetched,
But it's because I'm obsessive,
And overly-attached.
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 10:47 AM UTC
"vocabulary" they speak and
the phrase leaps from their tongues into
the familiar quickened heartbeat
and the incarnation is repeated again and
again. meanwhile, one word strikes and injures
while another soothes, seeks, seduces.
but with every union of word to word to phrase
the age-auld tie loosens and its power
fades, because after all it is only a
word and the word is overused and looses
meaning and now the word is dead and
decayed and powerless and dictionary.com says
'archaic'.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 6:44 PM UTC
My head asks what is the matter
My heart does not know the trouble
The sun shines more brilliant
The clouds draw imagine of beautiful pattern
The butterflies fly in the two rows
Dancing a smart dance as the great dancers
The leaves salute the winds with great tending
The winds pass so light and so guide
My mind asks and the world responds
The love appears and the peace governs
The world bows even the hate increases
The killing draw an optimistic imagines
it greets these were killed
and accuses these killings
Even the most powerful supports
Even the world tries to close his eyes
The freedom opens its arms
For long hugs for these downers
For who wants to get their land free and peace
Even they expose to dead or gets injures
Their blood will the sign for the world letting them down
They will complain to the God for this unbalance
The justice is crippled, the justice will lead to the death
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 3:37 PM UTC
*I promise you this, lil Cupid, by your quivers, I woe not if the arrow injures, my heart seared, ruined by
such wound: however remote the years soon
to pass or that which came, never a lass by any name could rightly be aware the stain nor such feasting on my hearths flame by gluttonous Love, a heart in chains; and do consider the purity born from martyrdom. That which cures and calms the feeling of agony, to the point it be hardly ever felt, a mere hinting at pain dealt in only the slightest degree. No! That which tortures my one and only spirit and body, just that fear is what truly is the dismay heralding my imminent decease and decay: for my fierce fire may be but the only flame which burns so in this cold and cruel world I tread all alone as it turns, in confused hopefulness I yearn to see you deliver -and impatiently I lie awake at night waiting for her.*
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 10:47 PM UTC
When a bullet enters the ear
But doesn’t ****
When a boy runs
On the fence
And doesn’t fall
Except for once
Which by sheer chance
Was just the first
Not second floor
When a man defies
Some unjust rules
Deciding to jump
Of the roof
But doesn’t die
And only breaks
A single leg
When a lady gets
Almost hundred
But rarely cries
Despite sorrows
And much demise
When a child injures
One of his eyes
But still can see
And jump and play
Like it should be
When young man rides
A motorbike
Is hit by car
Hard from behind
And yet survives
With a few scares
When scorpion
Does make its mind
To live with me
Just walking bye
So many nights
While I’m asleep
Without a sting
I call this luck
And all blessings
Poured over me
And family...
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 11:21 PM UTC
It’s hard for me to say it for real
All that I have kept inside,
For so long, I’ve never imagined of this
But I guess it will someday be right.
Thoughts keep clashing in my mind
Words I find so hard to speak,
Memories keep tearing me apart
This love has been killing me softly.
How do I reminisce things with you?
If it had never been, not even for once,
Behold what lies beyond my eyes
It’s the dream I never imagined to be true.
Nothing can ever fix the pieces
The ones you scattered on the floor,
It had been for years and you still don’t know
This pain I felt, I died once more.
For my heart’s every beat is for you
It beats even stronger whenever I see you,
But we’re worlds apart, I know for sure
I can never have you, now it injures.
My heart cries, longing for your touch
My life is pointless ‘cause you owe me no love,
It kills me inside, it hurts me so
If there’s no any chance, I’ll learn to let go.
I’ve loved you before, I will love you more
I will always love you even so,
But this love digs me down to the core
I’ve got to do this a little less than before.
I’m not giving up, I’m not even quitting
But if this is what I get from loving,
I’d rather keep it down and low
I guess it’s never worth the show.
I want you to know that nothing’s changed
I won’t ever let this love just perish,
But it isn’t easy to love you still
Amidst the possible threats that I see.
I’d be doing this a little less than before
‘Cause it causes me death and so much more,
I’ve got to find myself without you
If that is how I should love you so true.
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
one more dies from injures obtained
the death toll rises
but the number of people hurt decreases
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
Après la chose faite, après le coup porté
Après le joug très dur librement accepté,
Et le fardeau plus lourd que le ciel et la terre,
Levé d'un dos vraiment et gaîment volontaire,
Après la bonne haine et la chère rancœur.
Le rêve de tenir, implacable vainqueur.
Les ennemis du cœur et de l'âme et les autres ;
De voir couler des pleurs plus affreux que les nôtres
De leurs yeux dont on est le Moïse au rocher,
Tout ce train mis en fuite, et courez le chercher !
Alors on est content comme au sortir d'un rêve,
On se retrouve net, clair, simple, on sent que crève
Un abcès de sottise et d'erreur, et voici
Que de l'éternité, symbole en raccourci
Toute une plénitude afflue, aime et s'installe,
L'être palpite entier dans la forme totale.
Et la chair est moins faible et l'esprit moins prompt ;
Désormais, on le sait, on s'y tient, fleuriront
Le lys du faire pur, celui du chaste dire,
Et, si daigne Jésus, la rose du martyre.
Alors on trouve, ô Jésus si lent à vous venger,
Combien doux est le joug et le fardeau léger !
Charité la plus forte entre toutes les Forces,
Tu veux dire, saint piège aux célestes amorces,
Les mains tendres du fort, de l'heureux et du grand
Autour du sort plaintif du faible et du souffrant.
Le regard franc du riche au pauvre exempt d'envie
Ou jaloux, et ton nom encore signifie
Quelle douceur choisie, et quel droit dévouement,
Et ce tact virginal, et l'ange exactement !
Mais l'ange est innocent, essence bienheureuse.
Il n'a point à passer par notre vie affreuse
Et toi, Vertu sans pair, presqu'Une, n'es-tu pas
Humaine en même temps que divine, ici-bas ?
Aussi la conscience a dû, pour des fins sûres.
Surtout sentir en toi le pardon des injures.
Par toi nous devenons semblables à Jésus
Portant sa croix infâme et qui, cloué dessus,
Priait pour ses bourreaux d'Israël et de Rome,
À Jésus qui, du moins, homme avec tout d'un homme,
N'avait lui jamais eu de torts de son côté,
Et, par Lui, tu nous fais croire en l'éternité.
629
Grasping for a thread back to normal mode
Yesterday's trauma struck and did implode
The mind lies in state of befuddlement
Everything is changed it isn't the same
Regaining past composure no easy frame
Reflections of loss bring a blurred haze
It takes time to walk out of the maze
Comfort is found in friend's kind easement
Our souls and hearts are feeling all adrift
We question why do the sands always shift
When the departed leave our loving care
There is a desolate space left behind
Which confuses and injures the mind
Seasons of solace shall grant us repair
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC