"vained" poems
Poison Ivy
Not to be mixed up with poison Oak
Thriving to irritate the human skin
Leaving people with days of a red itchy rash
So abundant and lively
Berries white, run on fright
A red vained plant of pure torture
Three leaves, let it be
Poison Ivy
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
I was born into a world where your inner pocket
decides your destiny,
A world were dreams have no value
A world filled with people with black hearted soul,
Carrying around big cheesy smiles across their face,
Living with malicious thought but still never fail to
mingle,
Mischievous they are, they depend on your success
for motivation,
Yet our motive is to be innovative,
Seating so adamant not observant,
and end up been their servant,
When shall it end we ask, today or tomorrow ?
tomorrow's better if not today we reminisce,
Hoping for a breakthrough,
After we have been stabbed & left with scars,
Looking for the strength to stand up tall ones again,
Realizing our mistakes & adopting a new personality
trait,
I Never had d chance to dream,
So how do I revive myself ,
Noting inspires me ,
so why should I be affectionate we say ,
We become so ****** nd vained,
Anger & sadness mixed with joy , pain & sorrow,
No one to count on anymore,
All these strains my credulity,
sadness gathered from one mistake
Making me miserable every minute,
Suicide we think of,
but the pain subsidies,
Shivering and capturing ourselves cap sizing
Within a blink of an eye,
But the truth of life's,
We need nightmares to appreciate not been in it,
life is a beach we are just playing in the sand ,"
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 4:35 AM UTC
Tangerine sunsets of skies that weep
Tenderly lulling souls to sleep.
Hazing memories fade softly away
As twilight ends the course of day.
Temptations lose their wielding power
As the last drops of sand close the hour.
Salvation pleas lost in air
From pleading voices in despair.
Like painted pictures changing hue,
Life alters state too cold, cold blue.
To recreate its form first knew
And return to earth, vained residue.
As curtains rise on death's first show,
To bask in life's after-glow,
Cries and curses cut the air
With yearning hearts in earnest prayer.
Then placed in waiting eternal beds
To rest among familiar heads.
Where whales of longing slowly cease
And tired souls find Crimson peace.
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
Women pains , nothing gained
Blood stains , energy drained
I try to tame but all is vained
Woman pains that no one weighed
But a woman who once felt this ache
Aug 4, 2025
Aug 4, 2025 at 12:27 PM UTC