Poems about legs



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№ 1209458

The Swift Legs of Rain

Walking
Through
The eyes of
A hurricane
Are
The swift
Legs of rain


legs,  rain,  swift.

Author: Stu Harley
+0-
Date: 06/04/2020


№ 1198699

Legs Poem (Not Mine)

Legs so hot
Hot hot legs
Legs so hot
They fry some eggs


legs,  mine,  poem.

Author: Michaela Ann
+0-
Date: 27/03/2020

№ 1196248

Bandy legs

What does a rainbow
And cowboy have in common
They both ride a horse


legs.

Author: Haiku Donna
+0-
Date: 25/03/2020

№ 1189776

Broken Legs

I fell down on a deserted street
And I broke both of my legs
I couldn't get back onto my feet
And nobody came my way

There wasn't a single soul in sight
So it was still there I remained
Crying from pain, and begging for light
But alas, still nobody came

My legs slowly turned purple and black
And I started to forget who I was
All of my memories had started to crack
I guess this is just what life does


broken,  legs.

Author: Arlo Disarray
+0-
Date: 19/03/2020


№ 1176353

If you would have kept your legs closed.

To be a friend your goal is not to follow nor to be civil.
To be a friend is to be the most genuine part of yourself.
If you were a friend, you would not have taken
My words and mold them into what you tried to remake as your story.
If you were a friend you would have let me keep the most
Genuine part of myself.
If you were a friend, even a person, if that at all,
You would have let me keep the angel that was never to be yours.
My angel that was never to be inside of you.

If you were a human,
You should have fixated yourself on something
Other than my promising beginning.
If you had not lost your
Humanity (long ago),
You'd be so much more than you are
Perceived.
Yet you are as told,
Words leftover of an
Envious soul.
And here you are once again,
Heart left torn out
Because your legs fell a bit too obtuse.


closed,  legs.

Author: Carla Michelle
+0-
Date: 07/03/2020

№ 1171468

Last Legs (Song)

Throw your children to the fire again
And leave them to burn for all of your sins
Tangled in this wicked web we spin
With wars waged against ourselves that we cant win

Are we too numb to succumb to these feelings anymore?
Are we so apathetic that we forget whats in store?
Hoping, pleading
Now in retrospect
Broken, bleeding
From all the neglect

Why should I stand with my heart in my hands,
Just to see it get ripped from my grip once again?

And over again

Is this something we can not evade,
Standing here upon our last legs?
Taught from the cradle to the grave
That this is the way we should be

The way we should be

Are we so bartered, brokered, bought and sold as if were whores?
Selling ourselves bit by bit, piece by piece to the core
Hoping, pleading
Now in retrospect
Broken, bleeding
From all the neglect

Why should I stand with my heart in my hands,
Just to see it get ripped from my grip once again?

And over again.

Is this something we can not evade?
Standing here upon our last legs
Taught from the cradle to the grave
That this is the way we should be

The way we should be


This one is the first single from my bands upcoming Hard Rock album, you can check it out at the link below if you'd like. Our name is Negative Feedback

**http: //www. reverbnation. com/negfed


legs,  song.

Author: Jeremy Bean
+0-
Date: 03/03/2020


№ 1159260

A pass in which the matador keeps his feet and legs absolutely still while slowly swinging the open cape away from the charging bull

What is a poem but a maze of powerful words
That only the poet can truly understand
What is a poet but a man
A pencil in his hand
With every word he engraves upon her skin
He is pulled further
And further in
Lost he is no more
Left at the mercy of her soul
Forever adrift in his words
Her words
Her



Author: Cassian
+0-
Date: 21/02/2020

№ 1158200

Infant Legs Running Towards Fathers

Walking the gravel roads that my
Ancestors walked before me,
I feel the ghosts of their struggles
Beneath my feet.

But also their voices; laughter,
Infant legs running towards fathers
With shouldered axes and saws and
Smelling of forestry.

Weary, but not too weary to pick up
A child for an afternoon embrace.
The trees still sing the songs they sang
Them to sleep with;

Bellies full of barley or not at all.
Despair and hardship, yes.
But more. The land remembers
Their lullabies.


fathers,  infant,  legs,  running.

Author: SG Holter
+0-
Date: 20/02/2020

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