 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 01-June 12:33:47 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 172266
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => BROKEN
[time] => 2012-04-30 20:02:57
[hometext] => I've have quite a rough childhood I must say. I was depressed for so long, and i have had my share of frustration. One day I thought I was going to explode, it hurt so much, i didn't know whether to cry laugh or scream; so i wrote, though not all.
[bodytext] => It is the taunt and bitterness of recurrent hostility that keeps me from any relationship with my folks’ consciousness. I wish no mal to no one but the pain and anger of precontinuous hurt sometimes stunts my decisions. A Lion's share of their tongue sends my heart to paths of blistering acid. They could care less if I am happy or not even in my pain and frustration, my tears they sought. I have to smile enough just to get by everyday because I still dwell in their abode. They are too busy waiting for me to breath wrong to notice there’s anything good about me They paid no ear to my voice, twice I spoke none they heard was their choice. It’s the feeling of scorching anger of which they fan the touch of venomous disdain, the depth of hate How shall I touch something that burns me everytime I consult it. Stranded and enslaved like a christmas hen It shame and aches my soul that i had not a father but a master since ten. Of all their alter births echoing pain, supposedly they claim to scorch and torment me for my gain. It is the feeling of being in a box knowing nothing but fine agony. The thought of my wishful breathless days still haunt me and the content of this worries me. The loath, the pain, the agony, the suffering, the tears, and here lies, who I could have been if i was a tad happier, but with all this, and shattered hope that i have picked up and stitched firmly to my side, that one day they may be priceless because I picked them up though edged as thorns and broken glass, i ensconced them to my side and I will keep moving. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 194 [topic] => 48 [informant] => gbrain17 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com