You don't have to be a wreck. You don't have to be sick. One's aim in life should be to die in good health. Just like a candle that burns out.
quote by Jeanne Moreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Candle At The Edge Of The World
There is a candle at the edge of the world
that burns for all humanity.
In the daytime, it burns blue
to colour our skies when we wake.
At night, it is covered with a shade
and that is when darkness calls.
This candle at the edge of the world
is a constant reminder to us all
that if we venture too far too fast
we will eventually fall.
The candle burns within us
to show us the way each day
and if it ever fails
that is when our darkness calls.
It burns through our torment and strife,
our loves, happiness and failures too.
That candle at the edge of the world
is simply me and you.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sick of You
I am sick.....I am sick of you......I am sick of this life.....lived it long and good.....but now I am sick of you and the life I lead.....sick and weak.....this life I led.....but not any more......it shall end.....this sickness shall end.....I am sick of you yelling and what you say.....I am sick of this life and all I have done.....if I could go back I might....I remember walking out the front door and saying 'I love you'.......but that was then and this is now.....I have lived it long and good......but I am sick of it......staying awake and wondering 'what did I do'? ......I AM SICK OF YOU AND THIS LIFE I LED.....
poem by Dallas Stevens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Not Die
Do not die when I am sick,
Inside is demand for the deprived and slender.
This thin man who throws light and heat
Is astray like the cows and bulls.
They are thinner when deprived
Yet this thin man worked for some decades in health.
Do not sleep in a threatening mood,
The thinning of a person is about.
Health is a circle of life which revolves like wheels,
The wheel may need, but it certainly flows.
Do not be sick and poor in health
Lest demand for your life is about.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Candle
Red candle burns romantic in the night
Lovers hide from the barren torn world
Wrapped in symbols of hope and future
World war seems far from the moonlit sea
Passionate red roses for sweet lovers
Night covers time with universal desire
Goya painted ominous murals of truth
This red candle burns like rivers of blood
Christmas seems so sad for a soldier
Will a nuclear bomb blow out this red candle?
Existential sex like Ann Frank's last birthday
Pound your drums and fight your causes
The horrible crows fly in Van Gogh's mind
Hiroshima burns with a fire from hell
Tonight the red candle is for silk and lace
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Have you ever been sick?
Have you ever been sick?
Walked that hospital floor with a stick
Have you ever been sick?
Had an operation painted graphically horrific
My knees, weak they felt
I heard their voices melt
Into pain from poor health
For them rebirth or death sickness spelt
Suddenly I realized life is not static
While listening to a tale so tragic
A mother cried at sicknesses trick
Her family of four it decided to pick
At any time we can lose
Anyone sickness decides to abuse!
Have you ever been sick?
In vain visited numerous clinics
Have you ever been sick?
Wondering where life will next kick
Have you ever had a cough?
Thinking you are having it so rough
Have you ever suffered from heat?
Knowing others gave up there in defeat
Have you suffered from cuts?
Or open wounds that severely hurt
Have you ever looked at the sick?
And thought anyone of them eccentric
Health is wealth and good health for sure
Is created by thoughts that are deemed pure
While the clock goes tick-tock-tick
If you ever find yourself sick
It helps to eliminate the negative traffic
With more than just a mere flick
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Sick of Being Sick
I’m sick of being rejected;
I’m sick of being emotionally neglected;
I’m sick of crying so many tears;
I’m sick of running away from my fears;
I’m sick of my childhood nightmares;
I’m sick of being told to do those stupid dares;
I’m sick of not having friends;
I’m sick of all these dead ends;
I’m sick of myself for what I’ve become;
I’m sick of feeling oh so numb;
I’m sick of watching myself drown;
I’m sick of my heart falling to the ground;
I’m sick of this life;
I’m sick of this everyday strife;
I’m sick of not having a dad;
I’m sick of getting mad;
I’m sick of my childhood past;
I’m sick of being harassed;
I’m sick of the dread;
I’m sick of wanting to be dead;
I’m sick of being the one who’s always so strong;
I’m sick of being somebody that doesn’t belong! !
poem by Shelby Brockway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Am I Askin 4 2much
am sick of people actin with me like a child
am sick of not letting me do wt i want
am sick of not letting me say my opinion
am sick every day and every moment
am sick of judging me wrong
am sick of every thing in my life
am sick of them controling me
am sick of selfish people who want me 4 there own good
i want some space i need 2 breath
i want 2 enjoy life with her every moment
i want 2 be able 2 do some misteak
i just want to get a life and be my self
am i askin 4 2much
Nothing Is Lost
Nothing is lost,
Nothing is vanished..
But, the transformation
of energies occurs!
The body will be left
after death, the spirit,
must be added to air
to take new form......
As a candle burns
and decreases in size....
Our body too, burns
and burns, to be added
in another life,
after being fully burnt.
poem by Nilakshi Das
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Candle
A spark flickers
a bright flame glows.
Pushing shadows back
one candle burns.
Within its heart
such strength is born.
Brings the will to persevere
in the darkest hours.
From one burning candle
no matter near or far.
Like a living soul
warm energy flows.
To one who is lost
this tiny radiance
lights a dark path.
It shows the way.
Think of the good
could be done.
Had one the power
of a single burning candle.
06May03
poem by Kurt Hearth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Depicted as Narcissistic
Say what you wish,
But the business of keeping people sick...
Has become an industry.
And those desiring to remain in good health,
Have become the ones depicted...
As narcissistic,
Ego manics.
Wanting to live lives feeling great...
Without aches and pains to complain about it,
On a daily basis.
And there those declaring themselves as sick,
Sit in a hospital to prove first IF they can afford it.
WITH prescriptions to be written by a certified doctor...
Hoping someone has paid in advance for advice given,
Knowing that good advice from one's lips...
Does not stick inside a head of one impatient.
Or one unwilling to break away from old habits.
And showing no signs a wish for good health,
Has been accepted in their minds.
Or even given time for it to visit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm sick
I’m sick of always waiting for the breaks I never get,
I’m sick of being left behind and sleeping in my sweat,
I’m sick of making money when the ends are never met,
I’m sick of being sick of life I’m trapped inside a net,
I’m sick of having to be strong when I’m a nervous wreck,
I’m sick of working dead-end jobs that lack any respect,
I’m sick of waiting in a line where I am never next,
I’m sick of knowing that I’ll never truly be the best,
I’m sick of acting normal when I know that I’m a mess,
I’m sick of other people saying that I’m really blessed,
I’m sick of having all this pain I feel inside my chest,
I’m sick of being stressed, I’m feeling so depressed,
I’m reaching for a goal that very few are to obtain,
And no more strength is left in me because of all the pain,
I know that I have said that there is God inside the rain,
But where is God in moments when my bodies feeling drained,
And where is God in moments when a prayer won’t explain,
The fact that I was born a baby lacking half a brain,
The fact my hands and feet are tied together by these chains,
I can’t break free I need some help but all I get is blame,
I’m blamed for the mistakes I’ve made and it is such a shame,
I know that I’m a winner yet I’m losing to life’s game,
I’m losing my religion and all I do is entertain,
The other mindless people I swear this life is so mundane,
I’m always asking why,
I always say I try,
I’m looking to the sky,
Accept the pain and fly.
poem by Nathan Streango
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Health and Wealth
When I had health, I strived to earn more wealth;
I toiled so hard that I soon lost my health!
When I got wealth, more vice crept in by stealth;
My wealth was gone, so also my good health!
So, keep your health and earn some wealth;
Don't earn more wealth and lose all health;
Just use your wealth to keep your health;
In life on earth, Health is your wealth!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Am I Jealous?
Am I jealous, O Man of Literature?
Thou art in life more blessed than I am;
Thine life is spent with joy as a Teacher,
Akin a frolicking, discontent, Lamb.
Thou art afree of stresses that meet me;
I play the role of healing people sick;
I can't escape life’s pain and misery;
My time is lost when burns the candle-wick!
Yet, people feel I am one far greater,
Not realising despair within me;
Tho' a Doctor, God is the one Healer;
I am His vassal; He, the remedy.
Oh, how 1 wish to lead a simple life!
Far from the stress and bitterness of strife.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Sick
im sick of not knowing,
im sick of not showing,
im sick of all the starring
im sick of not caring
im sick of being labled bad
im sick of always looking sad
im sick of feeling locked in bars
im sick of all the painful scars
im sick of all the thugs
im sick of all the drugs
im sick of asking myself why
im sick of telling myself i want to die
im sick of feeling like i always want to cry
im sick of living a lie
im sick of not having a dream
im sick of lifes borring theme
but thares only one was out...
so what does that mean?
poem by Ricky Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im sick
im sick of not knowing,
im sick of not showing,
im sick of all the starring
im sick of not caring
im sick of being labled bad
im sick of always looking sad
im sick of feeling locked in bars
im sick of all the painful scars
im sick of all the thugs
im sick of all the drugs
im sick of asking myself why
im sick of telling myself i want to die
im sick of feeling like i always want to cry
im sick of living a lie
im sick of not having a dream
im sick of lifes borring theme
but thares only one was out...
so what does that mean?
poem by Malorie Genoff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Money Ain’t God
Money is not God,
Albeit good health and great wealth
Will put a commoner in the position to afford
The most luxurious amenities on earth.
God is wealth;
Good health
Is the richest gift
That can be bestowed on a chief.
Money is like a gaud;
It is a fraud
To think that money is God.
A King or a Queen, without good health,
Is sinking at the bottom;
He or she is dead, indeed worthless.
A penniless pauper, with great health,
Is wealthier than one can fathom;
He or she is darn blessed.
God is wealth;
God is health;
Money ain’t God;
Money ain’t God.
Good health and great wealth
Are like divine gifts;
Adding a little wisdom and a good heart,
Such combo will put a cherub on a celestial lift,
Where life is wonderful and set apart.
God is wealth;
Good health
Is the richest gift
That can be bestowed on a chief.
Money is like a gaud,
It is a fraud
To think that money is God.
poem by Hebert Logerie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh God I Prayed
The light
of
my life
began
to dim.
The candle
that
burned so
brightly.
Began
to
flicker.
My heart
slumped
in
despair.
Oh God!
I
prayed.
Don't let
this light
go out.
Keep this
candle
burning.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Over The Top
I told you: There is such a thing as too much of a good thing
Over the top, to the nines, overdrive.
It could have been so good
Yet, you blew it.
Instead of me wanting more:
I got sick of it
Sick of you
Sick that you are low class
Sick that you are stupid
Sick that you are a loser.
And before I get sick of me too:
Get out of my sight.
*Circa 2008*
poem by June FeirCruz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only Take So Much
Do you think i appreciate you treating me like that?
No, I don't at all?
I'm sick of been took for granted, sick of been used.
Is this the time you're gonna let me fall?
My heart's breaking slowly, but you don't care.
I can tell, looking in your eyes.
It's just an empty stare!
What have i done, but just loved you?
Even though the candle has flickered near.
I'll always hold you dear.
But i'm so sick of been used
poem by Lucy Vernezze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Live
There
Is
Only
One
Way
To live:
Fiercely.
A candle that burns
Burns anyway,
So why not light up doom- fate?
Conflagrate!
poem by Eon Ezkiel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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