Backfire
It only begins to hurt those,
Who applied misdeeds...
'Now' feeling themselves bleeding.
It only begins to hurt...
When the dirt unearths,
To reveal a stinging pain.
It only begins then...
To remove the shadows,
They've cloaked themselves within.
It only begins to hurt those,
Who applied misdeeds...
Far worse than those,
They have manipulated and deceived!
And when pain is felt like that...
A haunting from it,
Will not relieve!
The suffering torments,
And from them does not leave!
Inflicting tragedies on others...
Backfires upon them relentlessly.
Exposing their darkened ways that crushes!
With a burden they bare eternally to carry.
And there is no escaping.
What has been wished upon others,
Without a consciousness...
Comes to arrest them as they attempt to sleep.
And 'that' they no longer can do successfully!
A backfire unexpected visits.
Mentally squeezing any comforts from them known.
Increasingly as they continue to breathe!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
When a Consciousness Begins to Lift
When a consciousness begins to lift...
To leave behind foolishness that exists.
There seems to be an acceptance of it.
As if one realizes,
A birth has been committed.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
A release of limitations,
Easily takes a shift.
No longer is one concerned,
About winning conflicts with enemies burned.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
It becomes easier to observe,
Those disturbed and their afflictions addicted.
Enjoyed and unrestricted.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
It is best to rest.
And let it accept the truth,
That comes with it.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Expect a shock and some loneliness.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Those experiencing this,
Are left to feel estranged!
Alienated,
From that...
Which one had thought,
Was sane!
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Enjoy it as a gift.
Unveiling an abundance of understanding.
Connecting a peace that can be reached.
With a wish to share and treat.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
From those taught they should live,
With lives accepted in self defeat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pain and Hurt
born in to pain and hurt
growing in pain and hurt
living in pain and hurt
sleeping in pain and hurt
waking in pain and hurt
cuting in pain and hurt
bleeding in pain and hurt
crying in pain and hurt
i know nothing other then pain and hurt
i use drugs to end the pain and hurt
but all i get is pain and hurt
is there nothing other then pain and hurt
in this painful and hurtful world?
poem by Anna Sprague
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Journey
when you can look
in the mirror,
and see your self naked
without running like hell...
the journey begins!
when you can look
at your every action,
judging your self honestly
by motive and intent...
the journey begins!
when you can give away
all that you cling to
without asking for anything
in return...
the journey begins!
when you can do the right thing
irregardless of the cost,
not caring what anyone says
or thinks...
the journey begins!
when you can see the faces
of God in the people you
despise the most, the ones
who've hurt you the most...
the journey begins!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the Pain Begun Begins to Mend
When the pain begun begins to mend,
The sky is brighter.
The clouds then start to drift.
The rain dries and the thunder stops.
When the pain begun begins to mend,
A freshness occurs.
The Sun invites a rendezvous.
Just to sit with it,
And feel...
A soothing come over you.
When the pain begun begins to mend,
And you are there...
Ready to be healed,
Feeling a once broken heart...
Being pieced back together,
Completely.
When the pain begun begins to mend,
You are prepared to forget.
Wanting to forgive.
And wishing to be forgiven.
When the pain begun begins to mend!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Season Of Loving And Dying
i
the season of loving
is the song in the morning
you keep humming
because the love last night
was so warm
ii
on the next season
comes that of the dying day
when things are kept inside
for fear that others may steal them from us
when we lock the doors and windows
when we light a candle
in the darkness of our souls
when we seek sleep
because light begins to hurt
our eyes
when we take shelter on dreams
because reality begins
to hurt
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pain (lyrics)
Regret sits heavy in your chest until sometimes it gets so hard to breathe
Sometimes it just wont go away and you start to feel you will never be
And when you think back on those times it seems so close just beyond your reach
Until past vanishes like smoke from a cigarette in the night breeze
Please stop this pain
Hurt for so long
Pain
Hurt for so long
I've felt this way for so long
How is it that things turn out this way?
What you hold most dear has come and gone
Seems the time that everything was right
Now it just feels wrong, oh so wrong
And your still dreaming of the time
When the day will come, it was meant to be
And your still dreaming of the way
To reach that place that you've never been
Please stop this pain
Hurt for so long
Pain
Hurt for so long
I've felt this way for so long
Pain
Hurt for so long
Pain
Hurt for so long
Pain
Hurt for so long
Pain
Hurt for so long
I've felt this way for so long
poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pills for Pain. Blood for hurt
How much can a person endure
Before realising pills make the pain stop
They numb all feeling and leave you cold
Cold and dead inside
Pills for pain blood for hurt
It trickles slowly out
The harder you push the faster the hurt escapes
How can a person hurt themselves
When all they do is hurt
When you hurt emotionally physically is easier
Pills for pain blood for hurt
To be nobody to no one
To be unloved and unknown
I am know by the pills
They know me
They make me a someone
Pills for pain blood for hurt
To have a heart broken
Shattered and screaming for less hurt
To feel so much love and the next day non
Pills for pain blood for hurt
Love leads to pain
Caring leads to hurt
Pills for pain
Blood for hurt
Nobody to save me
poem by Maxine Isherwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Opposite Begins
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
People known to create conflict,
Seek an attention they don't get...
Until,
The opposite begins.
Opposition steps in.
They pretend a trust to believe,
To have others perceive but...
The opposite begins,
For them.
Wake up and take notice,
That the opposite begins for them.
Those who charade innocence.
The opposite begins for them.
Those masking evil intent.
The opposite begins for them.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
But then,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
They want it quick.
And...
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
To then see someone who genuinely fits,
Well...
The opposite begins pursued.
Oh yes it does.
An opposite begins pursued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pain in my mind
Pain in my mind
Pain is what I go through,
Everyday
This pain fills me
Pain stuffed inside of me
Pain of stress on my life
You can feel the pain in my heart
I hide the pain behind the smile
I see myself in the past and I,
Dont want to return
I never knew how much pain,
cant hurt.
The memories of pain live,
on and on,
So much sadness in me
Years have passed,
Life begins again.
poem by Maria Luisa Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Haunted By Their Own Misdeeds
One should never base their opinion given,
Received from another...
To judge someone else with purposes to defame.
The outcome to them delivered by such actions...
May not return the same to shame.
However...
The chances that the consequences faced,
Seldom embraces them to favor.
Since most people are often haunted,
By their own misdeeds.
Squeezing from their minds,
A comforting of rational sensibilities.
Left to themselves they are.
And abandoned.
To convalesce on their own alone.
And a wish to sleep peacefully at night,
Is rare.
As unfamiliar sounds come to creep in the silent air.
'Who's there? '
They are haunted by their misdeeds.
'I can hear your footsteps.'
They are haunted by their misdeeds.
'Slowly...as a stalking panther,
I can hear you coming up the stairs.'
They are haunted by their misdeeds.
And when the dawn comes to find them shaking,
Crotched in the corners to hide from darkened shadows...
Lifted.
It is soon discovered,
A door thought locked and bolted had been left open.
Leaving them to wonder...
How many visits like this will be repeated?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pain shifts at birth.
A mother’s delivery ends with pain.
A child’s birth begins with pain.
Her cry is over when she delivered.
Its cry begins when it is delivered.
Pain is not a pain
When it brings joy.
23.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the Bush Begins to Speak
They know us not in England yet, their pens are overbold;
We're seen in fancy pictures that are fifty years too old.
They think we are a careless race - a childish race, and weak;
They'll know us yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
'The leaders that will be', the men of southern destiny,
Are not all found in cities that are builded by the sea;
They learn to love Australia by many a western creek,
They'll know them yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
All ready for the struggle, and waiting for the change,
The army of our future lies encamped beyond the range;
Australia, for her patriots, will not have far to seek;
They'll know her yet in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
We'll find the peace and comfort that our fathers could not find,
Or some shall strike the good old blow that leaves a mark behind.
We'll find the Truth and Liberty our fathers came to seek,
Or let them know in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Im Done With All The Pain Im Done Getting Hurt
Im done with all the pain im done getting hurt-
Your over there getting jelous and thinking all i do is flurt-
Im done with all the pain im done getting hurt-
Your getting mad at me when your showing off that mini skirt-
Im done with all the pain im done getting hurt-
You dont even have manners, in front of my mom you decided to burp-
Im done getting hurt im done with all the pain-
We fight so much i feel like im going insaine-
Im done getting hurt im done with all the pain-
Every night you make me cry outside i see rain-
poem by David Oregon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unrequited Love
In between another heartache faked.
It can be seen and felt although not faced.
But too proud to admit of unrequited love.
Nothing reciprocated from it can be claim...
But pain!
In between lips unkissed and missed.
With a proclamation of strength...
As tears drip from eyes like a typhoon,
Has hit an unexpected wall of sobs.
Someone has been robbed of a trusting job held.
Remembering the region of the Philippines.
Or the China sea.
And the cyclone winds dramatized...
To validate images created,
To compare with the whirlwind within.
In between another heartache faked.
It can be seen and felt.
But too proud to admit of unrequited love.
Nothing reciprocated from it can be claim...
But pain!
And a typhoon of a whirlwind within,
Begins.
As my imagination drifts,
To the Orient again.
And a typhoon of a whirlwind within,
Begins.
As my imagination drifts,
To the Orient again.
Again.
And a typhoon of a whirlwind within,
Begins.
As my imagination drifts,
To the Orient again.
But...
Too proud am I to admit of,
Unrequited love.
And a typhoon of a whirlwind within,
Begins.
As my imagination drifts,
To the Orient again.
Again.
And a typhoon of a whirlwind within,
Begins.
As my imagination drifts,
To the Orient again.
But...
Too proud am I to admit of,
Unrequited love.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strangers, lies and lovers
Strangers, lies and lovers
~
The hurt and lies we inflict on others
are but mirrors of our own neuroses
each guilt edged fear we harbour
becomes the knife blade of our defence
we hurt others so as not to be hurt by them
and in hurting others we hurt ourselves
a world of lies strikes with pain
how impossible is such fear
that we are compelled to wonder
in the recess of our minds we lie
first to ourselves then to the others
strangers and lovers become equal
the honest, naked truth lost
while a game slowly begins
to deceive and de-construct reality
that which binds us to the lie
is but the fear we keep well hid
the answer to defeating such lies
and in turn saving all from pain
is to face openly each fear
however hard that may come to be
first we must face ourselves
to our own cold reality
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As If A Needed Must To Have Is Trusted
When one begins to establish a history
One's choice to be deceiving,
Does not mean those activities go unseen...
To be disbelieved.
When one begins to establish a history,
Misdeeds like these...
Clarifies one's identity.
Packaged within an unmistakable personality!
And why this is a mystery to one so obvious,
Can not be explained.
Even though a pattern has been created,
That maintains its sameness.
When one begins to establish a history
One's choice to be deceiving,
Does not mean those activities go unseen...
To be disbelieved.
And accepting environment,
Has a way of making anything tolerated!
Even one's disgust becomes tradition.
As if a needed must to have is trusted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once That Letting Go Begins
Once that letting go begins,
There seems to be such freedom to admit...
Every aspect of pain and sorrow inflicted,
And held within, lifts.
Without anxiety...
One is freed!
A comforting peace is released inside.
And it no longer is important...
To keep conflicts kept.
With a brewing of embitterness,
Left denied one attempts to hide.
Once that letting go begins,
A forgiveness ends those mental mindblocks.
A healing mends.
And a bruising abuse comes to a stop.
Once that letting go begins.
Illnesses of all kinds fade,
To then be dropped.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cry
Cry love
Cry war
Cry innocence
That is lost forever more
Cry joy
Cry thief
Cry Beautiful
That is just beyond belief
So I...
CHORUS
Cry at the end
Cry 'cause it all begins again
Here you are and so am I
And we cry
Cry alone
Cry to me
Cry freedom
Then let yourself be free
To shed tears
That have to flow
To hold somebody close to you
And then let them go
CHORUS
Cry at the end
Cry 'cause it all begins again
Here you are and so am I
And we cry
Cry peace
Cry hate
Cry faithlessness
Then just have a little faith
CHORUS
Cry at the end
Cry 'cause it all begins again
Here you are and so am I
And we cry
Try to be true
Try 'cause we're only passing through
Here you are and so am I
And we cry
CHORUS
Cry at the end
Cry 'cause it all begins again
Here you are and so am I
And we cry
song performed by by Hilary Duff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day's Plans Go Awry
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The tears that God must cry.
'Hey Mom, what's rain, what makes it fall? '
Asked Zachary, sincere.
'When will it stop, will it at all?
I can't be stuck in here.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
As God begins to cry.
'It's God's tears, my son, he must weep,
For all of us on earth.
The pain we feel, we cannot keep,
Ourselves alone from birth.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
For our pain God must cry.
'But Mom, God's cried, every day,
He must be getting weak.
Tell him to laugh, that's what I'd say,
And try that for a week.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
Why do we make him cry?
'But ah, my son, you do not know,
How much hurt God has felt.
So our Father, he has to show,
Us what our pain has dealt.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry.
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
God doesn't want to cry.
'So Mom, then why, do we hurt God?
How can we be so bad?
Why do we hurt each other too?
We know it makes him sad.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The tears that God must cry.
poem by Steven Rodgers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Intellect
The hurt begins to move
and meets in a funeral procession.
For aging fireworks this was the last chance,
but lake had dried up.
There was no fall tonight of the moon
All the stars had gone for a memorial service.
The candle light vigil begins with a sole survivor.
The genotypes will multiply.
The legend had the last breath
and then walked away in a big whole.
I were you, to take the revenge
from the sobbing me who sent the body
without a soul.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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