Poems About Graveyard Published by Members Recently Online
#graveyard
Lozzamus
Poem Published
1st Mar 2019 8:50pm
1st Mar 2019 8:50pm
Grief And The Seasons
The cemetery stands silent, the flowers still, the solitary mourners perched by gravestones, alone in their grief.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
The seasons pass.
Each day, new mourners visit to place flowers on the graves of loved ones.
The time passes slowly at first, then quickly.
A year. Five years. Half a century. A century.
A century from now, a new generation of mourners will come.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
The seasons pass.
Each day, new mourners visit to place flowers on the graves of loved ones.
The time passes slowly at first, then quickly.
A year. Five years. Half a century. A century.
A century from now, a new generation of mourners will come.
#grief
#death
#graveyard
448 reads
0 Comments
Lozzamus
Poem Published
1st Mar 2019 8:50pm
1st Mar 2019 8:50pm
Grief And The Seasons
The cemetery stands silent, the flowers still, the solitary mourners perched by gravestones, alone in their grief.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
The seasons pass.
Each day, new mourners visit to place flowers on the graves of loved ones.
The time passes slowly at first, then quickly.
A year. Five years. Half a century. A century.
A century from now, a new generation of mourners will come.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
The seasons pass.
Each day, new mourners visit to place flowers on the graves of loved ones.
The time passes slowly at first, then quickly.
A year. Five years. Half a century. A century.
A century from now, a new generation of mourners will come.
#grief
#death
#graveyard
448 reads
0 Comments
Lozzamus
Poem Published
1st Mar 2019 8:50pm
1st Mar 2019 8:50pm
Grief And The Seasons
The cemetery stands silent, the flowers still, the solitary mourners perched by gravestones, alone in their grief.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
The seasons pass.
Each day, new mourners visit to place flowers on the graves of loved ones.
The time passes slowly at first, then quickly.
A year. Five years. Half a century. A century.
A century from now, a new generation of mourners will come.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
The seasons pass.
Each day, new mourners visit to place flowers on the graves of loved ones.
The time passes slowly at first, then quickly.
A year. Five years. Half a century. A century.
A century from now, a new generation of mourners will come.
#grief
#death
#graveyard
448 reads
0 Comments
Viddax
Lord Viddax
Lord Viddax
Poem Published
30th Apr 2018 10:00pm
30th Apr 2018 10:00pm
Post-poet Production
Greased gears grind as gummed up with gregarious grammar
stammering in rhyming time to the hammers of keys,
clicking in chittering chattering clattering of characters
in order to unload more unnecessary excessive essays
that can hardly be called hardy poetry.
Although mostly harmless, are definitely artless
fathered by the fearsome poem factory
churning out copious catalogues of compositions
drowning the daring delver in deranged descriptive dialogues,
each word brings an inch of woe without originality
passages and packages of plagiarism ...
stammering in rhyming time to the hammers of keys,
clicking in chittering chattering clattering of characters
in order to unload more unnecessary excessive essays
that can hardly be called hardy poetry.
Although mostly harmless, are definitely artless
fathered by the fearsome poem factory
churning out copious catalogues of compositions
drowning the daring delver in deranged descriptive dialogues,
each word brings an inch of woe without originality
passages and packages of plagiarism ...
#NaPoWriMo2018
#WritingPoetry
#graveyard
554 reads
0 Comments
Viddax
Lord Viddax
Lord Viddax
Poem Published
30th Apr 2018 10:00pm
30th Apr 2018 10:00pm
Post-poet Production
Greased gears grind as gummed up with gregarious grammar
stammering in rhyming time to the hammers of keys,
clicking in chittering chattering clattering of characters
in order to unload more unnecessary excessive essays
that can hardly be called hardy poetry.
Although mostly harmless, are definitely artless
fathered by the fearsome poem factory
churning out copious catalogues of compositions
drowning the daring delver in deranged descriptive dialogues,
each word brings an inch of woe without originality
passages and packages of plagiarism ...
stammering in rhyming time to the hammers of keys,
clicking in chittering chattering clattering of characters
in order to unload more unnecessary excessive essays
that can hardly be called hardy poetry.
Although mostly harmless, are definitely artless
fathered by the fearsome poem factory
churning out copious catalogues of compositions
drowning the daring delver in deranged descriptive dialogues,
each word brings an inch of woe without originality
passages and packages of plagiarism ...
#NaPoWriMo2018
#WritingPoetry
#graveyard
554 reads
0 Comments
Viddax
Lord Viddax
Lord Viddax
Poem Published
30th Apr 2018 10:00pm
30th Apr 2018 10:00pm
Post-poet Production
Greased gears grind as gummed up with gregarious grammar
stammering in rhyming time to the hammers of keys,
clicking in chittering chattering clattering of characters
in order to unload more unnecessary excessive essays
that can hardly be called hardy poetry.
Although mostly harmless, are definitely artless
fathered by the fearsome poem factory
churning out copious catalogues of compositions
drowning the daring delver in deranged descriptive dialogues,
each word brings an inch of woe without originality
passages and packages of plagiarism ...
stammering in rhyming time to the hammers of keys,
clicking in chittering chattering clattering of characters
in order to unload more unnecessary excessive essays
that can hardly be called hardy poetry.
Although mostly harmless, are definitely artless
fathered by the fearsome poem factory
churning out copious catalogues of compositions
drowning the daring delver in deranged descriptive dialogues,
each word brings an inch of woe without originality
passages and packages of plagiarism ...
#NaPoWriMo2018
#WritingPoetry
#graveyard
554 reads
0 Comments
Paulajobi
Paula Jobi
Paula Jobi
Poem Published
6th Jan 2025 5:58am
6th Jan 2025 5:58am
Bo's Shadow
Bo was 6 yrs old when he made a full body
silhouette in class. He chose black paper and he carefully cut it out and brought it home proudly.
He called it his shadow.
He taped it to his wall near his bed and there it
stayed for 3 years. The longest our mom had ever stayed in any apartment. The building was owned by our extremely perverted aunt. She liked to touch him.
So did our Mom. The entire family was like that. He
secretly told me that he put his soul into his "shadow" to keep it safe from mom, our aunt - the entire family! ...
silhouette in class. He chose black paper and he carefully cut it out and brought it home proudly.
He called it his shadow.
He taped it to his wall near his bed and there it
stayed for 3 years. The longest our mom had ever stayed in any apartment. The building was owned by our extremely perverted aunt. She liked to touch him.
So did our Mom. The entire family was like that. He
secretly told me that he put his soul into his "shadow" to keep it safe from mom, our aunt - the entire family! ...
#abuse
#graveyard
#hate #PTSD
#hate #PTSD
79 reads
2 Comments
Paulajobi
Paula Jobi
Paula Jobi
Poem Published
6th Jan 2025 5:58am
6th Jan 2025 5:58am
Bo's Shadow
Bo was 6 yrs old when he made a full body
silhouette in class. He chose black paper and he carefully cut it out and brought it home proudly.
He called it his shadow.
He taped it to his wall near his bed and there it
stayed for 3 years. The longest our mom had ever stayed in any apartment. The building was owned by our extremely perverted aunt. She liked to touch him.
So did our Mom. The entire family was like that. He
secretly told me that he put his soul into his "shadow" to keep it safe from mom, our aunt - the entire family! ...
silhouette in class. He chose black paper and he carefully cut it out and brought it home proudly.
He called it his shadow.
He taped it to his wall near his bed and there it
stayed for 3 years. The longest our mom had ever stayed in any apartment. The building was owned by our extremely perverted aunt. She liked to touch him.
So did our Mom. The entire family was like that. He
secretly told me that he put his soul into his "shadow" to keep it safe from mom, our aunt - the entire family! ...
#abuse
#graveyard
#hate #PTSD
#hate #PTSD
79 reads
2 Comments
Paulajobi
Paula Jobi
Paula Jobi
Poem Published
6th Jan 2025 5:58am
6th Jan 2025 5:58am
Bo's Shadow
Bo was 6 yrs old when he made a full body
silhouette in class. He chose black paper and he carefully cut it out and brought it home proudly.
He called it his shadow.
He taped it to his wall near his bed and there it
stayed for 3 years. The longest our mom had ever stayed in any apartment. The building was owned by our extremely perverted aunt. She liked to touch him.
So did our Mom. The entire family was like that. He
secretly told me that he put his soul into his "shadow" to keep it safe from mom, our aunt - the entire family! ...
silhouette in class. He chose black paper and he carefully cut it out and brought it home proudly.
He called it his shadow.
He taped it to his wall near his bed and there it
stayed for 3 years. The longest our mom had ever stayed in any apartment. The building was owned by our extremely perverted aunt. She liked to touch him.
So did our Mom. The entire family was like that. He
secretly told me that he put his soul into his "shadow" to keep it safe from mom, our aunt - the entire family! ...
#abuse
#graveyard
#hate #PTSD
#hate #PTSD
79 reads
2 Comments
Paulajobi
Paula Jobi
Paula Jobi
Poem Published
6th Jan 2025 5:58am
6th Jan 2025 5:58am
Bo's Shadow
Bo was 6 yrs old when he made a full body
silhouette in class. He chose black paper and he carefully cut it out and brought it home proudly.
He called it his shadow.
He taped it to his wall near his bed and there it
stayed for 3 years. The longest our mom had ever stayed in any apartment. The building was owned by our extremely perverted aunt. She liked to touch him.
So did our Mom. The entire family was like that. He
secretly told me that he put his soul into his "shadow" to keep it safe from mom, our aunt - the entire family! ...
silhouette in class. He chose black paper and he carefully cut it out and brought it home proudly.
He called it his shadow.
He taped it to his wall near his bed and there it
stayed for 3 years. The longest our mom had ever stayed in any apartment. The building was owned by our extremely perverted aunt. She liked to touch him.
So did our Mom. The entire family was like that. He
secretly told me that he put his soul into his "shadow" to keep it safe from mom, our aunt - the entire family! ...
#abuse
#graveyard
#hate #PTSD
#hate #PTSD
79 reads
2 Comments
Poetryman
Poem Published
21st May 2012 4:16pm
21st May 2012 4:16pm
This Quiet Cemetery
As a boy I'd walk my dog
On a hot and sunny Summer day
Seeking shade beneath a tree
Seeking peace within the quiet cemetery
In the Winter with my friends
We would sleigh-ride down the snowy hill
Laughing and shouting in fun
Breaking the quiet of the cemetery
Seasons changed along with me
But the secret bench was always there
Whenever escape was sought
There was peace within the quiet cemetery
The sound of snow flakes landing
Brings an inner calmness to my soul
For John Lennon's silent vigil
I traveled back to the quiet...
On a hot and sunny Summer day
Seeking shade beneath a tree
Seeking peace within the quiet cemetery
In the Winter with my friends
We would sleigh-ride down the snowy hill
Laughing and shouting in fun
Breaking the quiet of the cemetery
Seasons changed along with me
But the secret bench was always there
Whenever escape was sought
There was peace within the quiet cemetery
The sound of snow flakes landing
Brings an inner calmness to my soul
For John Lennon's silent vigil
I traveled back to the quiet...
#winter
#silence
#memories
#graveyard
#JohnLennon
923 reads
6 Comments
Poetryman
Poem Published
21st May 2012 4:16pm
21st May 2012 4:16pm
This Quiet Cemetery
As a boy I'd walk my dog
On a hot and sunny Summer day
Seeking shade beneath a tree
Seeking peace within the quiet cemetery
In the Winter with my friends
We would sleigh-ride down the snowy hill
Laughing and shouting in fun
Breaking the quiet of the cemetery
Seasons changed along with me
But the secret bench was always there
Whenever escape was sought
There was peace within the quiet cemetery
The sound of snow flakes landing
Brings an inner calmness to my soul
For John Lennon's silent vigil
I traveled back to the quiet...
On a hot and sunny Summer day
Seeking shade beneath a tree
Seeking peace within the quiet cemetery
In the Winter with my friends
We would sleigh-ride down the snowy hill
Laughing and shouting in fun
Breaking the quiet of the cemetery
Seasons changed along with me
But the secret bench was always there
Whenever escape was sought
There was peace within the quiet cemetery
The sound of snow flakes landing
Brings an inner calmness to my soul
For John Lennon's silent vigil
I traveled back to the quiet...
#winter
#silence
#memories
#graveyard
#JohnLennon
923 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Graveyard Published by Members Recently Online
