Poems about three



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№ 1210065

Irony (10 word poem three)

Persistent
Sisyphus
Engulfed
In
Flame;
Saved
By
A
Rolling Rock


irony,  poem,  three,  word.

Author: david badgerow
+0-
Date: 07/04/2020


№ 1209378

Three Lines, Four Stanzas

On the paper
Newly minted,
First time printed

Causal pausation
Assessment momentation
Review, the second inclination,
Then scrap-heaped,
In much bad company filed
Retained, reserved, preserved,
For another go round,
Another someday

You look at your hands,
Telling them straight,
Not good enough,
Is not good enough
Anymore

Do try, so try,
Three lines, four stanzas,
Elegies and funerals
Don't become you,
Go into labor,
Write labored
And birth free flowingly
Knowing,
That all knowing glowing,
Of a poem child,
Product of
Good enough


lines,  stanzas,  three.

Author: Path Humble
+0-
Date: 06/04/2020

№ 1208756

Set Me Free With The Words Of Three

All the family I have is a family of three.
I will tell you all three, if only to be freed.

One of them is real and hardly ever ceased.
Lies.
Lies.
Lies.
Oh how it must die.

I told you one but the rest are still in the rain.
This one is real, and caused by wanted heartache.
Pain.
Pain.
Pain.
Oh how it leaves me with unbearable strain.

The last one is real and its color is a deep red, filled so in harmless dread.
Blood.
Blood.
Blood.
Oh how it leaves people dead.

So strangers and lovers, you have heard my plea. Satan has got me, now set me free.


free,  set,  three.

Author: Casaria NightShade
+0-
Date: 05/04/2020

№ 1208267

The curious tale of the three minute bath

Driving down a windy road 35 miles per hour at seven thirty in the evening with flowers and balloons in the back seat shouldn't have ended with me being suspended sideways for thirty minutes while they tried to make it safe to get me out of what was left of my first car and no matter how many times i draw a bath i can't get rid of the feeling of my left hand covered in my own blood and the small slivers of glass that are still in my hands or the swollen over-sized bruises that adorn my legs and my face

And regardless of the scent of lavender and apples i cant look at my damaged body anymore

Did you ever really love me at all?


bath,  curious,  minute,  tale,  three.

Author: Aoife Teese
+0-
Date: 05/04/2020


№ 1208066

Three Saviors

Before I met you,
I was filled with an eternal darkness, forever hating.
It was all I fucking knew...
But alas, I lay there... waiting.

For the ones who would truly care.
The ones who would actually be fair.
Who wouldn't run when my fangs would be bared.

So this is a little rhyme I came up with,
While playing in my head; a low riff.
And it's for you,
Because you knew.

You knew my pain,
And you'd stand with me in the harsh rain,
Even when I became insane.

So thank you, for letting me have a good start.
For letting me show you my art.
For not trying to dart.
Because you hold 1/3 of my heart.


saviors,  three.

Author: sanjana goel
+0-
Date: 05/04/2020

№ 1207894

Three regulars on 57th st

The first is the old sad looking man
He lives in the group home
I bet he's supposed to have a walker
Perhaps he refuses to use it
His body resembles a skeleton, and
He always goes through the sad park
The one that gives splinters
The one with far too much garbage
He follows the path all day,
Usually pacing back and forth
I said hello once,
He did not hear me
(or maybe he just didn't care)
I always see him, even in the cold
He is the most common of all

Then, there is me
(the girl with the short hair)
She goes nowhere in particular
Dark clothes, tired gait
I saw her light a cigarette once
Although she never put it to her lips
She never really says hello
She just looks at you,
Like “what're you waiting for? ”
She walks in the middle of the street
At midnight, all alone
She steals flowers from her neighbor
And carries them away
To the tiny house on the corner

Lastly, there's the boy with the bike
He has autism if i remember
Alex with the sandy brown hair
Blue house, chipped paint
He never wears a helmet
I am curious if his parents mind it
When he leaves the house,
Does he tell them he's going?
He constantly talks to himself
He said hello to me once,
But called me by a name i didn't recognize
He always bikes in circles
Maybe he's looking for something.


regulars,  st,  three.

Author: ilsa
+0-
Date: 05/04/2020


№ 1206141

Abide these three [creative writing assignment p.7]

I have learned three things in life.
I have lost three things in life.

Faith- a curtain to hide behind, crutches to hold me up.
Faith- a broken record of lies and hypocrisy, when I threw it away I could stand alone.

Hope- an intangible thing of optimistic beauty.
Hope- pessimism is so much safer.

Love- promises, worries, caring, blind, deaf and dumb, not even minding.
Love- remember the memories, throw away the promises, don't cross those lines.

I now look for these three things in life.


abide,  assignment,  creative,  three,  writing.

Author: Sarah Wilson
+0-
Date: 03/04/2020

№ 1205627

Three and four

Three blue trucks with discolored passenger doors
Three huge steps to kissing under floorboards
Three slighted moves to embracing under street lights
Three backwards motions to remembering our small fights

Four eleven two thousand
And twelve

Placing you on those
Three shelves


three.

Author: briana hailey ferenczy
+0-
Date: 03/04/2020

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