AN ORPHAN PARTING(İ f there were no sins..How would be aware of good things)
ı have got enough of everything
life and living
seen everything I had to see
enough and enough
that is enough
now..time is approaching
it is the era and time of parting
do not acquit me
do not bless me
if you want
do not forgive my wrong doings
sins and offenses
cause ı know and ı feel
in fact who is the one offended
born an orphan
grew an orphan
ı will leave this world an orphan
let them share
what I left behind
and remember me
but my poems
I am parting as an orphan
I want to live a new life
if there is one there
may be there
I will be an orphan
my FATHER the GODMetinb SAHİ N
poem by Metin Sahin
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Related quotes
Orphan Girl
(gillian welch)
I am a orphan
On gods highway
But Ill share my troubles
If you go my way
I have no mother
No father no sister
No brother
I am an orphan girl
I have had friendships
Pure and golden
But the ties of kinship
I have not known them
I know no mother
No father no sister
No brother
I am an orphan girl
But when he calls me
I will be able
To meet my family
At gods table
Ill meet my mother
My father my sister
My brother
No more an orphan girl
Blessed savior
Make me willing
And walk beside me
Until Im with them
Be my mother
My father my sister
My brother
I am an orphan girl
Be my mother
My father my sister
My brother
I am an orphan girl
I am an orphan girl
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No One Is Orphan, If Companion Is In Hearts!
No one is orphan here,
He that may come to your door
to test,
Whether you are orphan without
virtues,
When you have a little kindness to fellow men,
In them may certainly some fill
your heart with their gratitude
and love,
In that them, that Almighty
smiles laughs, O my dear, why you fear,
You are never an orphan,
When I am here to take care of you!
and you one day lived upto me,
And showed that no one can be
orphan, when I dwell in every heart!
And on that day,
not even,
your eyes,
but all your cells,
Comes to tear, Because the happiness of his
warmth we can't bear!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Without father - half orphan, without mother - complete orphan.
The Orphan Boy's Tale
Stay, lady, stay, for mercy's sake,
And hear a helpless orphan's tale,
Ah! sure my looks must pity wake,
'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale.
Yet I was once a mother's pride,
And my brave father's hope and joy,
But in the Nile's proud fight he died,
And I am now an orphan boy.
Poor foolish child! how pleased was I,
When news of Nelson's victory came,
Along the crowded streets to fly,
And see the lighted windows flame!
To force me home my mother sought,
She could not bear to see my joy;
For with my father's life 'twas bought,
And made me a poor orphan boy.
The people's shouts were long and loud,
My mother, shuddering, clos'd her ears;
'Rejoice! rejoice!' still cried the crowd;
My mother answered with her tears.
'Why are you crying thus,' said I,
'While others laugh and shout for joy?'
She kiss'd me -- and with such a sigh!
She called me her poor orphan boy.
'What is an orphan boy?' I cried,
As in her face I look'd and smil'd;
My mother through her tears replied,
'You'll know too soon, ill-fated child!'
And now they've toll'd my mother's knell,
And I'm no more a parent's joy;
O lady, -- I have learnt too well
What 'tis to be an orphan boy.
Oh! were I by your bounty fed!
Nay, gentle lady, do not chide,--
Trust me, I mean to earn my bread;
The sailor's orphan boy has pride.
Lady, you weep! -- ha? -- this to me?
You'll give me clothing, food, employ
Look down, dear parents! look and see
Your happy, happy orphan boy!
poem by Amelia Opie
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The De Facto Orphan
THE DE FACTO ORPHAN
I have lot of kith and kin
And sadly, living parents
Yet, I lived a life, full of pains
Lonely, as that of an hapless orphan
My boyhood days in the dark boarding halls
Youthful phase was spent in a disciplined hostel
Parents were prompt in paying the mess- bills
As an unfailing donor servicing the cause of or an orphan
They never knew the times I wept
Nor the nights that went unspent
Like a soldier coming home on an annual warrant
I returned to the ‘barracks' with moods so silent
Politely signing on the dotted- lines of the reports of progress
Duties of my parents ended there itself
Inwardly I am sick, in search of love, affection and parental caress
Banished from the family web, I prefer to be listed as an ORPHAN
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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Poverty's Child
Poverty's child,
An orphan on the street,
He runs for life,
He fights for food,
He has no home,
He has no shoes,
no mother, no father,
no nothing.
He dies young...
Poverty's child,
An orphan on the street.
poem by Joseph Fuller
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Man is An Orphan
No man died without being an orphan.
His mother dead, he is an orphan.
Wife and daughter are unfit to match her.
Mother alone has the drive to save him
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Add Assets To The Society
Competitive but not accommodating,
Energetic but not sympathetic,
Prosperous but not generous,
And aggressive but not considerate
You make your children at all cost.
You beam with their growth and your worth.
They would orphan you at a later stage
And orphan each other among themselves
Foe want of qualities you have ignored
To inculcate in their characters.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Offer
'Tell me, would you rather be
Changed by a fairy to the fine
Young orphan heiress Geraldine,
Or still be Emily?
'Consider, ere you answer me,
How many blessings are procured
By riches, and how much endured
By chilling poverty.'
After a pause, said Emily:
'In the words orphan heiress I
Find many a solid reason why
I would not changëd be.
'What though I live in poverty,
And have of sisters eight-so many,
That few indulgencies, if any,
Fall to the share of me:
'Think you that for wealth I'd be
Of even the least of them bereft,
Or lose my parent, and be left
An orphaned Emily?
'Still should I be Emily,
Although I looked like Geraldine;
I feel within this heart of mine
No change could workëd be.'
poem by Charles Lamb
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I'm Proud To Be A Pakistani!
Oh nation that I love
'Land of the pure'
Orphan at birth
Left insecure
Oh great father lost
Prey to the world
While the good die young
Corruption rules the earth
Hopes are quick lost
Difficult to bring back
One ray of hope:
'The meek shall inherit the earth'
Note: The second line is in colons because thats the meaning of 'Pakistan.' Pakistan is also the 'orphan' and the 'prey' because its father i.e its founder, the Quaid died when Pakistan came into exsistence. he is the '..great father lost.'
poem by Amatullah Areeba Ashfaq
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Orphain Train
(Julie Miller)
Come all you broken hearted, come and lay your burden down
Come kings and queens, come royalty surrender up your crown
Come empty-handed come with nothing of your own to claim
Come naked, poor, come like a child to ride the orphan train
Chorus: Come ride, ride on the orphan train
Put your ear to the track, you can hear your name
Come ride, ride on the orphan train, it'll take you all the way home
The way is narrow, it is steep that brings you to the door
But love awaits there to embrace your heart forevermore
(Repeat Chorus)
Come you abandoned, you forsaken
Friendless and alone, come refugees left homesick for
Some place you've never known
Here princes, paupers, criminals and saints are all the same
No more or less than God's beloved child aboard this train
(Repeat Chorus twice)
It'll take you all the way home
It's gonna take you all the way home
song performed by by Lee Ann Womack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I WILL NEVER FORGET YOU (Isaiah 49: 14-16)
I will never forget you,
My people
I have carved you
on the palm of My hand
I will never forget you
I will not leave you orphan
I will never forget My own
Does a mother forget her baby,
or a woman the child
within her womb?
Yet even if these forget,
yes even if these forget,
I will never forget My own
I will never forget you,
My people
I have carved you
on the palm of My hand
I will never forget you
I will not leave you orphan
I will never forget you,
My people
I have carved you
on the palm of My hand
I will never forget you
I will not leave you orphan
I will never forget My own
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Why do you want to be an orphan?
Here you are
five years old
Playing with your parents
Is all you want to do
Taking you to the park
you want them to do
Family night you are excited about
Days you count
just to get to that night
years flew by
like birds passing by
teenager you became
Hanging with your friends
is all you want
Family night you can't stand
Staying with your family
i doubt
Why do you want to be an orphan?
friends come and go
Family stays with you all the way
and all day
Orphan you want to be
or Freedom you want to have? :)
poem by michelle al G
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The Prayer of an Orphan Child
The Prayer of an Orphan Child
Silver clouds silver clouds
Will you play with me as a mate?
As an orphan,
none is there to play with me.
Ivory moon. My Sweety
will you kiss me to bid good night?
As a motherless child
to remember Her love.
Jasmine buds, Jasmine buds
Will you smile in morning times
to stay in your beauty and
to keep your smile always
Chilly breeze My Darling!
Will you raise me from my bed?
to enjoy the sweetness of dawns and
to pray Him for giving my thanks
poem by Sakthi Ravichandran
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The Death of Poverty
He was born like that
He was born into poverty
And his parent spoke it religiously to his ears
That this chain must be broken
Broken by work, work and nothing but hard work
His parent worked till their dying day
Only to still remain in chain
Fetters fatter and more stubborn with age
With determination he set out in rage
Bearing the pain, shame, hunger, and inhumanity
That the rich dream must become reality
Now, he is old, looking at then and now
The faded colour of poverty still painted today
And it will surely coat tomorrow
In this thought he was lost
Not knowing when he wandered to the edge
The neighbourhood of the dark one in black hood
He was seized by the neck and ceased
His orphaned son decided to be himself unlike his father
Or his strict grandparent of no par
The best singing couple our church ever had
But an ability self labeled vice they never shared
Not even among factory brethren with whom they worked hard
The orphaned son took to the pun shop
His father’s sacred baseball kit
In exchange for his love, his passion-
A guitar
Always under the oak tree the orphan sat
Harmonizing the strings
Using his father’s words as a song:
“Of how he was the best bat man in town
But the game he loved so much
He had to quit
For it was but a lure
Away from his purposeful journey
In the combat to kill poverty”
As the orphan sang, playing guitar one day
Soaring in the clouds of rhythm
A Cadillac had since stopped by
The occupant arrayed in fine fabric
Nodding with misty eyes
Wondering why a talent as this
Should waste away
He resolved in his heart to take him away
The orphan is no longer with us
In the reality of his dead fathers
But he now lives in their dream
Where the bed is neat and soft
Allowing only dreams that are sweet
In a place where the bread is fresh
And the meat is tender
We see the orphan now mostly on television
In a life that was his fathers’ vision
Of when the fetters of poverty would be broken
But he never did despite backbreaking work
But the orphan did it
Not by profuse sweat
Rather by love and passion
In sharing with others his GOD given mission
Of how to harmonize strings
And breathing rhythm from his vocal cord
poem by Osagie Isiramen
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Norma-Jean
Oh my gosh its August again!
And for all that are and were?
I think of one,
Orphan Angel,
Norma-Jean,
An Icon of one,
That became what,
The 1950's wanted,
Then died because,
Of,
Pressure and pain,
Of,
Fame and fortunes,
Now here it is August again,
The first week and the beginning,
The first week and the ending,
For,
Norma-Jean Mortensen,
Norma-Jean Baker,
Norma-Jean Dorherty,
Norma-Jean Di-Maggio,
Norma-Jean Miller,
Marilyn Monroe,
A week of celebrating her birth,
A week of remember her death,
A week of what and who she was,
A child born,
And orphaned off,
And what ended up,
A pawn in the idles game,
Of fame and fortune,
With scandel and ruination,
Her Birthday,
And Death Anniversary,
Each in the beginning of August,
Oh my gosh its August again!
And for all that are and were?
I think of one,
Orphan Angel,
Norma-Jean,
Now an Icon embossed,
When in the books,
Of one left to be,
And raised here and there,
Orphan Angel,
Norma-Jean,
Went and became,
What all just made out of her,
And only her few close friends,
That told it right,
Of who was,
Norma-Jean,
And still she is famed,
Yet,
Not until she is long, long gone,
Did we really find out about,
Ophan Angel,
Norma-Jean,
From those that remained so quiet,
Till,
They too passed on as well,
Cookies in the sky,
With warm milk of milky way stars,
And warm company,
Of high above,
With,
Cool diners images of where they meet,
To discuss their fame,
And troubled fortunes,
And the marks on life,
They left behind,
With,
Trials and blazes,
As each and everyone of them,
That too went out,
Just,
Like Norma-Jean,
Will too enjoy,
Just as in life,
Warm Cookies and warm milk,
And the company,
Of.
Norma-Jean.
R.I.P.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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The Orphan Maid
November's hail-cloud drifts away,
November's sunbeam wan
Looks coldly on the castle grey,
When forth comes Lady Anne.
The orphan by the oak was set,
Her arms, her feet, were bare;
The hail drops had not melted yet,
Amid her raven hair.
'And, dame,' she said, 'by all the ties
That child and mother know,
Aid one who never knew these joys,
Relieve an orphan's woe.'
The lady said, 'An orphan's state
Is hard and sad to bear;
Yet worse the widow'd mother's fate
Who mourns both lord and heir.
'Twelve times the rolling year has sped,
Since, when from vengeance wild
Of fierce Strathallan's Chief I fled
Forth's eddies whelm'd my child.'
'Twelve times the year its course has borne,'
The wandering maid replied;
'Since fishers on Saint Bridget's morn
Drew nets on Campsie side.
'Saint Bridget sent no scaly spoil;
An infant, wellnigh dead,
They saved, and rear'd in want and toil,
To beg from you her bred.'
That orphan maid the lady kiss'd,-—
'My husband's looks you bear;
Saint Bridget and her morn be bless'd!
You are his widow's heir.'
They've robed that maid, so poor and pale
In silk and sandals rare;
And pearls, for drops of frozen hail,
Are glistening in her hair.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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An Unknown Identity
I don't know who I am,
No one knows who I am,
I can't speak for myself,
And obviously, one would speak for oneself,
I'm left alone,
And I receive no calls from my phone,
I don't know who my mother is,
Or my father,
I've no surname,
Not even a name,
And people often call me an orphan,
They usually call me a moron,
I'm tired of this life,
I know I live a miserable life,
I wish someone comes for my rescue,
I will wait for him in the world's longest queue,
For I wait with patience,
I can feel his presence,
I am left alone,
I feel like, one day I will be known,
To everyone around the world,
It will feel like a dream world,
I live with patience,
Although I have no guidance,
I will be known one day,
I hope someday,
I have an unknown identity,
I'm sure I will have a known identity.....
poem by Sherbanu Molu
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If Pride Was Felt Inside To Feel
If pride was felt inside to feel it...
It would be shown.
And to all would be known.
If pride was felt with intent and integrity,
Few would be envious.
And who would then express jealousy.
But pride and identity,
Is as distant as an orphan...
Seeking purpose and a home,
Alone.
To roam.
Feeling disconnected.
Leaving one who travels...
Wishing this corrected.
If pride was felt inside to feel it...
It would be shown.
And to all would be known.
But...
One who travels,
Wishing to connect...
Feels as distant as an orphan,
Alone.
To roam!
And...
Feeling disconnected.
Hoping one day,
Pride will be displayed and known.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Day (Chapter 93, Holy Koran)
I ask for refuge to Allah from Satan the exiled evildoer.
In the name of Allah the Kind and the Merciful Giver.
Swear upon the day
And the night when it is covered with darkness
Your Lord has neither forsaken you
Nor has He felt dismay
Your future is better than your bygone days
Moreover your Lord will shortly
Give you something that will make you happy.
Didn't He find you an orphan and give you shelter?
Didn't He find you lost and show you the way?
Didn't He find you needy and make you rich after?
Therefore do not oppress any orphan
And if anyone asks for something
Do not rebuke the one
And as for the favors of your Lord, announce it to everyone.
poem by Asif Andalib
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