The pain behind the smile
I often saw her at the shops with her kids
she was friendly and would say hello,
then I heard some really tragic news
she'd jumped from a high building onto the floor below.
So I went and saw all the masses of flowers
at the place this poor woman had been found,
adults were standing with small children sobbing
while others were reading tributes not making a sound.
Then later on I saw her smiling picture in the paper
I never knew her but I still felt very sad,
it said she was a loving mother to her children
and it was her kids who made her happy and glad.
So why did she go and jump to her death?
what was she hiding behind her beautiful smile?
this poor young woman must have been full of agony
and putting on a brave act all the while.
Three lovely young children have now lost their Mum
but I hope their Mother is now in a much better place,
it just shows what some people are concealing though
behind that forced smile that appears on their face.
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
We Are The Children
We are the children who never got to be children
We all grew up too fast
We are the children who cried silent tears
Praying it wouldn't last
We are the children who practised their smile
Hiding all the pain inside
We are the children who couldn't get away
Got dragged along for the ride
So now hear my prayer
Let the children smile
Don't take away their youth and innocence
Let them be kids for a while
So now join this march
For the children's rights
Don't lock them away in the cold and the dark
Just give them a shining light
The kids don't work they do my head in
Just remember it's coz of all the lies you spin
You think it's messed up now - just wait till you're old
You never made those memories out of gold
The kids they cry
Every single night
Just let them smile
And see the light
poem by Alex Daydream
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Message From Eid 3id
What is Eid 3id
Its about Forgeting your greed!
Get up off your feet
What is Eid 3id
give up your feast
Share your sweets with those crying begging in the streets
Go, wipe the tears of those children in need
What is Eid.3id
Take a walk visit the sick, poor and the old
Pray for the sick, feed the poor, keep the old warm
away from the cold
Im EID 3id, i'll be with you soon
The children, the sick, poor and the old
Every day they spend without a smile, is a lost day
If you have money, give to the poor
If you don't have money, go visit the sick give them hope
If you don't have money, with one touch you can take away the loneliness from the old and show them that you care
Let them Wear a smile as you know one size fits all
If you do this, Everyone will smile in the same language
Im Eid 3id
how beautiful to see a mother's face light up with a smile because her child is having something to eat, it shouldn't be like this we all diserve to smile in the same language
This Eid.3id
i will share with them what i have, and if they don't have a smile, I'll give them one of mine
Only then i can feel complete
On the day of EID 3id
poem by Salma. Torrez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Are No Children Here
The untrained eye
Walks down the street
And sees children
But they're not children
There are no children here
Adults look back
With hungry eyes
And someone thinks
''They're just children
With a mother and a father
Never any fear''
And they kid themselves
As there are no mothers
No fathers
Because there are no children here
Terror doesn't care
As they cry over there
It lets someone stare
Through the sight of a gun
Seeing everyone
And just for fun
Shoot them
People rush around crying
''But they were just children!
They were just children! ''
A man with a gun
Turns and runs
But as he does they hear
''They aren't children''
And
''They weren't children''
And
''You need to know:
There are no children here''
No one makes a sound
Listening to the truth he's found
And they know:
It's our fault
We didn't save them
We could have saved them
If we cared
There would be children here
poem by Violet Llewellyn
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Poverty
I saw an old cottage of clay,
And only of mud was the floor;
It was all falling into decay,
And the snow drifted in at the door.
Yet there a poor family dwelt,
In a hovel so dismal and rude;
And though gnawing hunger they felt,
They had not a morsel of food.
The children were crying for bread,
And to their poor mother they’d run;
‘Oh, give us some breakfast,’ they said,
Alas! their poor mother had none.
She viewed them with looks of despair,
She said (and I’m sure it was true),
‘’Tis not for myself that I care,
But, my poor little children, for you.’
O then, let the wealthy and gay
But see such a hovel as this,
That in a poor cottage of clay
They may know what true misery is.
And what I may have to bestow
I never will squander away,
While many poor people I know
Around me are wretched as they.
poem by Jane Taylor
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Wonders Of Mother Nature
Mother nature
Oh mother nature
How beautiful and lovely you are
With such a tender loving care
Mother Nature
Ohh! Mother Nature
Our dearest mother nature
Our amazing mother nature
Ohh! Mother Nature
If nature allows can I please ask you a question
As a mother
How come you killed your young?
How come you made your fellow mothers cry?
How come you took away their joy?
You took the only thing that made their lives blossom
You suppose to make life beautiful
Mother Nature you suppose build
But how come you destroyed homes
Mother Nature you suppose to make the world a good place to be in
Yet you have turned the world to be a horrible place
Mother Nature as a mother you suppose to warn your young when the go astray
Not to destroy them
Yet you destroyed and killed them
You suppose to symbolize new beginnings and that there’s always hope
Yet you came and shuttled people’s lives and dreams
poem by Vangile Mtyali
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Poor Poor Kids
Be quiet! Don't make a sound!
Speak when you're spoken to!
What awful fearful bounds
Speaking only on cue
Poor poor kids
You can't go out and play today!
It's punishment, unfitting the crime
This parental power display
For kids, like serving hard-time
Poor poor kids
Adults wield such power
They must be listened to
They can their poor kids cower
As they dim their kids world view
Power seeds have been sown
Hopefully they'll not sprout
So when kids are fully grown
Their kids will not self doubt
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Hats Off to the Woman, Who…
Hats off to the woman, who bears children
With labor-pains, completing family;
Hats off to the woman, who rears the young,
Making her babies suckle at her breasts;
Hats off to the woman, who tends to both
Husband, children, others with care and love;
Hats off to the woman, who does all things
For others’ sake, selflessly all her life;
Hats off to the woman, who keeps the home,
And raises her children in forbearance;
Hats off to the woman, who labors hard
And burns the midnight-oil for family;
Hats off to the woman, who contributes
Fiscally by working in a work-place;
Hats off to the woman, who patiently
Toils, to keep the harmony of her home;
Hats of to the woman, who can also
Extend tender, loving care to old-aged;
Hats off to the woman, who has God first
In life, and sacrifices for the rest;
Hats off to the woman, who can smile
To all, despite her grief, anguish and strife in heart;
Hats off to the woman, who turns the home
A virtual Paradise on earth all life;
Hats off to the woman, who loves to slog,
And toils to raise her family with love;
Hats off to the woman, who’s an angel
To all, by being a good example.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-21-2008
poem by John Celes
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The prisoner of his conscience (Story Poem)
He was very poor and he married a rich woman
So he got money but he became a very sad man
She couldn't have children, even it wasn't his game plan
One day he saw a widow walking down the street ''It's later'
He told her calmly and begun to discuss about life with her
He didn't know why he suddenly felt to touch her so tender
He understood her when she confessed her cried coeur
Saying that she had three grown children and she was very poor
And she had to work as housemaid at a loudmouthed boor
She was in pain and he felt that and to help her was his concern
He wanted to take care of her family asking nothing in return
He thought never to dishonor her acting as a father to her children
He begun to understand how unhappy was the woman he loved
When he left her for another one and she became so grieved
He asked her to talk about his feelings for her and she approved
He wanted to divorce to marry her and take care of her needs
Certainly he wanted to become an adoptive father of her kids
To make her the mother of his future children he made a bid
His wife didn't agree to divorce but he left her on her demand
He took the widow and went to find their soul in a far away land
His wife got crazy and she killed herself they found her on the sand
He went to her funeral to see her last time without annoyance
He begun to scream releasing something deeper and fierce
Without his wish releasing the prisoner of his conscience.
poem by Marieta Maglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Morbid Art (A mother she calls herself)
black nails
a dark soul
half a heart
never again whole
cut wrist
blood hides
people see
with eyes that abide
A torn body
scars all around
A quiet mouth
with a screaming sound
She crys for help
first with her wounded skin
she shows her mother her hurt
in hope getting help her mother will give in
But so wrong was she
for her mother only said stop
no compassion in her words
so continued to the blood drops
yet the girl trys again
instead of scars she uses her word
pleading and begging
until she is heard
A mother the woman calls herself
yet she neglected her own
A selfish woman making life hell
while her children feel unwanted and alone
poem by Silent Speaker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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War Vets Dream
When he came from Nam he had a plan
That not many people would understand.
To help children see that not all in life
Was destruction and poverty.
With death and bombings all around
All he could hear was the children s sounds.
With tears in their eyes and not understanding why
Why so many bodies on the ground
And not a one making a sound.
All he could see was these faces of despair
Children did not understand and could not care.
These visions of the war would
always stay in his mind
From that day forward till the end of time.
He vowed that he would do all that he can
To help all children and his fellow man.
When you see the ravages of war
And a country torn apart
And its people scattered
Then staying alive is all that matters.
He knew that he could not stop this genocide
But he knew for the future children he had to try.
He wanted to create a place called “children s world”
A safe haven for every boy and girl.
A place where children could be children
And war they would not see.
Where they could be with friends and their families.
A place with a roof over their heads
Hot food and a bed.
He knows with time this dream will come true
“It just depends on people like you.”
poem by Louis Rams
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My Mothers Life
Born into poverty, abandoned very young
No mother or lullabies to be sung
Left all alone, her the oldest of three
Boards nailed on the windows so they couldn't see
She would write on the wall, one mark each day
So she would know how long they'd been away
Dad said to her, mom is really sick
Got to get her to the hospital, need to go real quick
Take care of the kids till we get back
Not a light in the place, all was black
Barely any food for them all to eat
The room so drafty, there was no heat
One day when she had fourteen marks on the wall
She heard a man shout out a call
He told the others, I hear crying inside
Pulled the boards of the door, while they tried to hide
He told the others, these children need food and clothes
He sure glad he heard them before the building was bulldozed
He called child welfare, and ladies came out
They took these poor children without a doubt
They took these children to different foster parents
Their neglect and and poverty was quite apparent
Their parents never returned to get them back
But at least they weren't still living in that old shack
They all were adopted to different places
Never to hold or see each others faces
Helen was the oldest, the one who had cared for them
Haunted for life, from the memories that stem
I know this story oh so well
Because of the past her whole life was hell
I was her daughter, till she passed away
It effected my life too, I was others prey
She didn't know how to be a mother
All we three, her children had was one another
So I suffer the curse of loneliness and depression
I've been loved and another's possession
I've been abused, the pain goes deep
What other have sewn is what I've reaped
By Dogs4donna
© 2008 Dogs4donna (All rights reserved)
poem by Donna Nimmo
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Young Sons
YOUNG SONS
A mother takes down a photo
And she holds it to her breast
Just has she’d done the child it shows
The little boy she’d washed and dressed.
She remembers how his hair felt
His soft scent still fills her nose.
And one again she curses,
the path her young son chose.
With boyish smile, and happiness
he’d picked the shilling and the gun
she remembered still the fear and dread
when he told her what he’d done.
Yet she’d smiled and waved him off
as only a loving mother could
If God was good, her smiling son
would return as young son’s should.
but then fickle fate, it knows no God
it makes it’s judgments where it will
and IED’s they don’t discriminate
about who they should maim or kill.
So young son’s often come home
fulfilling all their mothers fears
not with happy smiles and laughter
But, draped in flags and mother’s tears.
poem by Bill Mitton
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Ton Of Shoes And No Food
Mom has ton of shoes, while kids have no clothes,
child is worried school kids make fun of her
because they know.
Know she is borrowing Mary's pants, and she wears
a shirt that she sewed-
sewed in sewing class-
classmates know this is
and smile and laugh.
It's sad, but it is true
on a larger scale it rings through-
This is the reflection of the rich and the poor-
even as they live next door.
$50,000 dollars for campaign for Romney's dinner plates,
while children in ghetto eat old raisins not grapes.
He is going to cut alot of programs these poor people need
he looks like he doesn't want poor people to have a place to live.
What is Romney's real motive and is it for the greater good?
Is it to help human beings have basic needs met and be understood?
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Honour to Women
The woman is my mother,
She is the wife of my father.
The woman is my wife,
She is also the mother of my children.
I love my mother,
My children love their mother, too;
So, I respect my beloved wife.
Every woman with the veil of Mother is honoured by all,
Heaven lying at the feet of mother, every woman moves proudly.
poem by Supanul Islam Supan
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As It Was
Ginny loved it
when the time came
For their annual trip
to the seaside
And her father rented
the house with the big garden
that lead onto the sea.
She and her brothers and sister
Looked forward to it
every year and it seemed the sun
shone almost constantly
And the house seemed
as it was the year before
nothing changed nothing new
just the same rooms
and outlook and young Lily the maid
who came each year too
to help their mother
around the house
and watch
the younger children.
Her mother
Was the organiser
the one who seemed most near
to the children who seemed
to know the children’s needs
and wants and tried to keep
her husband happy
and allow him
his space and quiet
which he valued most of all.
Ginny liked it
when the sea was out
and there was plenty of sand
to play on to make a sand castle
with a moat and drawbridge
made from small pieces of driftwood
found on the beach.
But once her mother died
the seaside house
seemed less welcoming
the sea seemed
hardly ever to go out
than it was back again
the sun was less warm
less friendly
and her father
would mope
around the house
moaning and groaning
In his grief and bellowing
at Lily the maid
to do this and do that
making her cry
and only at night
when all were asleep
and Ginny was snuggled
Down in bed did it seem
as it was when her mother
would enter the room
and sit on the bed
and smile and whisper
the words she used to
placing a ghostly hand
on Ginny’s brow
and kiss her cheek.
Ginny remembered the house
By the sea years later
with the yellowy sand
And walking with Lily
the maid
hand in hand.
poem by Terry Collett
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Mother Is Dying: Part 2 (Filicide)
Mother is infuriated
Mother is irritated
Mother is agitated
Mother is aggravated
Tormented by Her children
Sickened by Her children
Scarred by Her children
She is beginning to die
Mother was gentle
Mother was accepting
Mother was enduring
Though mother is now corrupted,
Similar to Her children
Her anger boils from her very core
Swirling vortexes of hatred dominate the skies
Her loathe floods Her children’s lives
The incarnate of Her disgust with Her children
Is devastating and cataclysmic
Her children can no longer find
Sanctuary from mother’s mercy
Mother is too enraged to rationalize
Mother will create The Rapture.
Mother will cause The Apocalypse.
Mother will eliminate humanity.
Mother will commit filicide.
poem by Alex Gomez
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What Would The Children Think
She wakes up in the morning with the new sunrise
Looks at her husband sleeping still
Inside she cries
She makes the children breakfast
Gets them on their way
Watching them through the window
She prepares to face another day
Then her husband tells her
That he wont be home til late
Theres so much work hell have to stay behind
But she knows it isnt work thats on his mind
But still hell never leave her
Cause what would the children think
Where would the children go
What would the children do
If they knew the way it was
But theyll never learn because
What would the children think
Where would the children think
At the gate she kissed him
And watched him walk
Hoping this small charade
Will stop the neighbors talk
She turns to hide a tear
Inside her gilded cage
She cries for the love she could not hold
And lost to someone half her age
Then her pride and breakin heart
Tell her to run away
But she values what shes got a little more
Two kids, one 9 and nearly 4
And she would never leave them cause
What would the children think
Where would the children go
What would the children do
If they knew the way it was
But theyll never learn because
What would the children think
Where would the children think
What would the children think
Where would the children go
What would the children do.
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Smile To Remember
we had goldfish and they circled around and around
in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
covering the picture window and
my mother, always smiling, wanting us all
to be happy, told me, 'be happy Henry!'
and she was right: it's better to be happy if you
can
but my father continued to beat her and me several times a week while
raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't
understand what was attacking him from within.
my mother, poor fish,
wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a
week, telling me to be happy: 'Henry, smile!
why don't you ever smile?'
and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the
saddest smile I ever saw
one day the goldfish died, all five of them,
they floated on the water, on their sides, their
eyes still open,
and when my father got home he threw them to the cat
there on the kitchen floor and we watched as my mother
smiled
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Mother! Oh Mother
Mother! oh mother!
Where are your children?
Where have they been?
Where have they lost?
Mother! oh mother
Am on you
Yet can't see you
Is you don't like me
Or you don't like us
Mother! your children
Some on edges
Many at peaks
Why are all not equal
Are all not your children?
Maa I understand you
You have lost your children
You are been polluted all over
Maa my mother
Please batter your creation
Batter and make it new
This is a humble request
From one of your children.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
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Two Young Kids
Verse1:
Sitting at the table tonight
You look so beautiful
In the candlelight
And looking at her, looking at him
After fifty years
Chorus:
I pictured you and I and candlelight
And we would look so beautiful
And two young kids
Would be wishing they were us
Verse2:
Time it is a vision unclear
Blessed with adventure and full of fear
And looking at her, looking at him
Made it seem so easy
Chorus:
Youre looking natural in my eyes
We found lifes wonderful surprise
And someday two young kids
Will be wishing they were us
Bridge:
Perfect love exists
Ive seen it for myself
Its not kisses and moonlight serenades
Its two people holding on to happiness
Before it fades
Verse3:
I just cannot be here without you
Darling whats this heart supposed to do
Its suddenly here crystal clear
You are the one
Chorus:
I picture flowers and me dressed in white
And you and I and candlelight
And two young kids
Just wishing they were us
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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