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Poems On / About SICK  9/17/2014 4:33:53 PM
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You Helped...

Dad... Mom told you
she told you she was leaving
She told you she was taking us
She told you she was sick of the pain
She told you she was sick of the fighting
So was I
I was sick of the fighting
Sick of the leaving in the middle of the night
Sick of consouling my mother day after day
Sick of hearing you cry about the mistakes you made
Sick of the life you just let drift away
I was your little girl
I was your rock and stone
I was not enough to stop picking up the weed
Daddy its not the fact you didnt try hard with mommy
But I wasnt enough to keep it from happening
Daddy im not your little girl..
Im a bigger person than you...
UnTh0ught 0fAgAiin

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love sick for mina...........

A name every one could fear of, but I’ve been waiting for her. I wanted to see her but she’s running away… always

I could not even tame her.

She’s here, she belong to me, stuck in my cranium, not in my grip.

I am so sick of her… so love sick of her

Her mirth’s like a myth in fairytale, her enchantments are almost plausible, how I dare believe? Why would I not believe when I have sealed her warmth all over me?

She’s here, she belong to me, stuck in my head, trapped inside this beings chest.

They said I am sick, she said I am sick…

Yes I am sick… so so sick,

So love sick for Mina.

catty Alonzo

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Aw, I'm sick o' the whole darn human race,
An' I'm sick o' this mundane ball;
I'm sick o' the sight o' me brother's face,
An' his works an' talk an' all;
I'm sick o' the silly sounds I hear,
I'm sick o' the sights I see;
Ole Omar K. he knew good cheer,
An' it's much the same with me.

Gimme a bit o' a bough to sit
Beneath, an' a book of rhyme,
An' a cuddlemsome girl that sings a bit,
But don't sing all the time:
That's all I ask, an' it's only just;
For it's all that I hold dear
A bough an' a book an' a girl an' a crust;
That, an' a jug o' beer.

Then I'll cuddle me girl an' I'll quaff me ale
As we sit on the leafy floor;
An' when the book an' the beer jug fail,
I'll cuddle me girl some more.
For jugs give out an' books get slow.
But you can take my tip for square
Tho' the bough an' the book an' the beer jug go,
The girl, she's always there.

For I'm sick o' the sight o' me brother's face,
An' the world's a sight too slow;
An' I'm sick o' tryin' to go the pace,
When there ain't no pace to go;
I'm sick o' the 'gilded halls of vice,'
An' I'm sick o' the 'sainted shrine,'
I'm sick o' me own an' me friends' advice,
An' the gold that won't be mine.

I'm sick o' the sound o' me fellow's voice,
I'm sick o' his schemes an' shams;
O' trying to choose when there ain't no choice,
An' of damin' several dams;
So, gimme a girl that ain't too slow,
You can keep your book of rhyme,
An' you bough an' bread an' your beer. Wot O!
An' I'll cuddle her all the time.
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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Alone in the Woods

Alone in the woods I felt
The bitter hostility of the sky and the trees
Nature has taught her creatures to hate
Man that fusses and fumes
Unquiet man
As the sap rises in the trees
As the sap paints the trees a violent green
So rises the wrath of Nature's creatures
At man
So paints the face of Nature a violent green.
Nature is sick at man
Sick at his fuss and fume
Sick at his agonies
Sick at his gaudy mind
That drives his body
Ever more quickly
More and more
In the wrong direction.
Stevie Smith

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Read more: sick poems, nature poems, green poems, hate poems, alone poems, sky poems, tree poems, rose poems
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