"unremovable" poems
For you, you, dear Fear,
I have given up so much,
Lost all of those things.
For you, Fear, my friend,
I have chosen to remain,
Silent, and be mum.
You Fear, have caused much.
So many happenings, so,
I have lost, my smile.
You turned my smile, mine.
You, Fear, turned it upside down,
And made me worry.
You made me woeful,
Sad, depressed, and blind. To what?
Blinded to the joys.
The joys of life I,
I would have had, those I might.
You turned me around.
You made me realise,
How cruel society,
Was in my own head.
Those lies you fed me,
Scars, now unremovable.
I hate you, really.
You crushed me, my dreams.
You made me stumble, fall down.
You placed those hurdles.
But I cannot hate,
Not you, at least, for it was,
It was me, myself.
I must be blamed. me.
It was I who created.
Created you, I.
I created something,
Something that dragged me down. Down.
That caused me much pain.
So I will, destroy,
That creature I created.
To the void with you!
Jun 30, 2012
Jun 30, 2012 at 11:48 AM UTC
It's growling at me
With its emotionless eyes
As my fears grow, it starts to see
It's growling with all its lies
Black as the devil's soul
Creating a never endless pain
A dead wicked ghoul
Stuck like an unremovable stain
It taunts and laughs wickedly
It spitted out, "You're weak just like your mother."
I spatter out bitterly
But it doesn't seem to bother
Bickering, bickering for who's right
The lies connected my fate
No longer do I see the light
I'm no longer in the zone, going mentally insane
"Let me out!," I shrieked
But it smiled and escaped
I'm no longer within the breach
I'm all caged.
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 4:00 AM UTC
Family is a lovely , familiar pastel tablecloth 'cover' with a silver candelabra , red wooden apples in a talented craftsman's checkerboard basket , heirloom oak chairs guarding the surface of a dining room table with scratches , deep cuts and numerous depressions , unremovable stains , weathered and never revealed , painful and forever speechless haunting reminders ....
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC
At least give her a chance to show you her scars,
and tell you the story behind them
rather than tearing her clothes into tiny pieces
not to see the scars she already has
but to give her new unremovable scars.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 1:17 AM UTC
There are times etched in my life that are indelible
Unforgettable
They have always been there
Part of what makes me
They are indelible
Unremovable
They sit in my inner most being
Like old friends
There are times in my life that are indelible
They are part of my being
Always been there
Weaved into my fabric
What makes me, me
There are places that call me
Like an unending echo in my mind
They call tugging on my heart
They are also weaved into my fabric
Sitting in my most inner being
There are indelible times in my life
Unforgettable
They are woven into my fabric
They have always been there
Like old friends
Always there
Like golden threads
In my most inner being and heart
Part of my soul
Never leaving
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 3:59 AM UTC
Every single day I wait,
For nothing; In my mind.
A numb feeling is set in place,
Unremovable, and too deep to find.
I let the shadows swallow me,
So alone is all I know,
My hidden face from the world,
Too selfless to let it show.
But through the muted darkness,
I see him fall and fold,
Just beyond my touch,
Beyond me to be so bold.
Instead I let him go,
Hoping I did what was right.
He was my fulfilling purpose,
My only living life.
I skipped a page in a missing book,
and filled myself with a lie,
I told them that I didn’t care,
I turned away and never said goodbye.
Every single day I wait,
For nothing; In my mind.
Everyday I look at myself and ask;
What have I left behind?
Everything.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
I hate my past, I hate everything about it, I hate how this shadow of darkness, Puts shade over things that are bright and beautiful, I hate how it holds me back, It's tattooed in my mind down to the smallest details.
Unremovable
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 1:26 AM UTC
Could I be the moronic imbecile?
Maybe an unbelieving hard-to-feel?
What about a radical exemplar?
Maybe a frenzied Templar?
Would I be the ferocious fighter?
Possibly an inspiration lighter?
What about the unforgivable lie?
Oh, what am I?!
Can I be the troublesome dramatic?
No, maybe the suicidal problematic?
Could I be an uninspiring doomer?
No, maybe just a late bloomer?
Ugh, these things that I can be...
What if I'm the traitorous flee?
Maybe I'm an unlit sky?
Oh! What am I?!
The lovable opus?
The unremovable hopeless?
A corrupted cause?
Or maybe a bag of flaws?
I'm rich in depression,
And even richer with aggression.
Maybe I'm an overlooking fly?
Ugh! What am I?!
Maybe I'm a religious act?
Maybe I'm a broken pact?
Could I be the admirable laughter?
What will happen before or after?
What if I'm the infamous scammer?
What if I'm the iconic war hammer?
What if I’m just an unheard cry?
What if I die and never know why?
-From the mind of a questioning disbeliever, only to be known as an average human.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 9:34 AM UTC
Happy is a feeling I get only every once in a while
Sad likes to visit often
Excitement is something I feel on the inside and only on the inside
Stress is my trainer and it rides along on my back
Regret is an unremovable knife in my back that sings of all the things I wish I could take back
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 2:39 PM UTC
pain is a permanent marker
unremovable like coffee stains on carpet
undoable like stomach knots
unalterable like bad surgery
unwanted tattoos tell the truth
reminder of pain imprints in flesh
indelible ink writing on private parts
ingrained in memory like ***** rings around a tub
surgery scars reveal new skin
entrenched in the brain
pushed to the back of the mind
pain recorded, hidden, collated, undeleted
recycled every 14 days
triggered by foul smell, bad tastes and bitter tea
badly drawn with a pen
pain is a permanent marker
forever and binding
Jun 7, 2020
Jun 7, 2020 at 11:59 AM UTC
You molded me, I am a shell of you.
A tattoo-everything I do branded by your judgements,
by the memory of you.
I scratch at it, this etching, this unremovable mark.
My endless attempts to remove it, to burn it off or tear it away from my skin.
A fear possesses me however-
if I finally pull your mark away, your stitching in my skin,
that the thread will keep pulling; a clown pulling handkerchiefs out his sleeve,
some sick joke.
This seemingly small part of me will continue to fall away,
nothing left but a pile of skin
that you had previously molded into a human.
Jan 6, 2023
Jan 6, 2023 at 7:02 PM UTC