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Death Poems About Language

Language death poems and poems about death for Language. Read and share these heartfelt Language death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or Language Poems.

Poem Details | by Jacob Reinhardt |
Categories: abuse, age, art, business, career, change, class, color, computer, conflict, death, depression, devotion, flower, green, happiness, introspection, irony, jobs, language, loneliness, lonely, longing, metaphor, nature, pain, philosophy, political, poverty, self, simile, slavery, social, society, spiritual, stress, technology, time, today, together, truth, urban, visionary, wisdom, work, world,

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’

Poem Details | by mitchell eadie |
Categories: beautiful, language, poems, poetry, school, sympathy, teacher, teen,


Energy and passion,
excitement breeds attraction;
a brilliant work, a masterpiece
explored in true love fashion.

Traversing plots with disregard
for clear-cut truths,
it must be hard
to take.

Our cartoon minds
can’t comprehend
the words she spins,
the twist; the end.

So calmly,
I walk out the door
and know my thoughts mean
nothing more,
than love.

Poem Details | by arthur vaso |
Categories: beautiful, change, death, dream, gothic, language, lonely,

Weather Report

Weather Report

                   Bloody wet
             Winds and lust
                   Hanging on, even the dust
    Limbs fall
                            Baby’s crawl
              Storms rage inside my head
                            Oceans calm breeze arrives
        To find me dead

Jour de la météo
Caché sous
La mort par le métro

Poem Details | by RUDOLPH RINALDI |
Categories: art, death, family, language, life, love, poems, political, religion, social, success, trust, truth, wisdom, words,

words words words

words words words 
and more words
separated by 
space and time
silences and breaths
spoken and written
make as we go
to give meaning to all
the truth
the lies

Poem Details | by Henrique Oliveira |
Categories: death, gothic, imagery, language, metaphor, old, sleep,

Count Not a Minute Gone Past

Count not a minute gone past,
Scurrying 'neath the brush at our feet,
Nibbling on toes and morsels of flesh, lying
Inside this box we now call home,
A strange miasma hovering above us and squinting
To examine the white in our hair, the wounds in our hearts, 
A head with no body now mouths pretty words,
Looking so tired, so tired,
As Death turns for a second look, another laugh,
Appalled at the distance of years,
Driven mad by a life cleanly wasted, 
By this drum in my head,
Beating seconds into a frenzy, giving birth 
To the minutes and hours, paving the way
For an ancient future that silently stutters
And finally knocks at the door. Come in.

Poem Details | by Barbara Green |
Categories: appreciation, beautiful, beauty, bereavement, black african american, blessing, destiny,

Hat Language

The Hat is an unspoken language
Every lady must learn
It will give you a voice when it's your turn

Your Hat will speak when you don't have a  voice 
It will talk the whole time, Remember diva you are
The boss, and get your message plainly  across
Hold that Hat down,  it's your choice.

 My language says I'm all that unprecedented, 
unparalleled, untouchable and second to none
Classy, intelligent, and sexy to no return.

The preacher has his sermon, but my hat has its address,
 let's wonder who communicated the best. 
My language has fortitude, latitude, gratitude, attitude, and a smile. 
This case I rest!!!

Poem Details | by Justin Debrosse |
Categories: education, funeral,

Language Cannibals

Consuming brain waves from plentiful touch
Exchange of sorrow, mirth, and incredulous dirges
Following the sign of the times
Discourse as it reeks from chest cavities
Angsting bloated bodies barrelled into walking murmur
You sleepy disease fungal fortunes run amiss
Runinous with divisive claims

Poem Details | by Ernesto P. Santiago |
Categories: life, love, peace, people, sympathy

Sign Language

No shouting at all
If let little fingers speak
Deaf hears, loud and clear

Poem Details | by KERINTH CAMPBELL |
Categories: care, cheer up, emotions, grief, sorrow, woman,

Tearful Language

By Kerinth Campbell

For each tear is a pearl of anguish
Which God Himself tenderly catches
And gently places in a golden bowl.

Cry…For words fail to tell of the
Searing pain and grief
Which twists like hot sharpened knives
Into the core of your being.

Cry, my dear, For if truth be told,
God understands the language of
Your Tears.
He, too, cries with you…
He feels the same grief…
He knows that womanly pain.

Intimate God!
He understands the bereft moments and
Days and
Hours and…
He agonises with the intensity of your emotions.

Yes! God knows the sound
Of a woman’s language of tears…

Poem Details | by Stephany Delima |
Categories: grief,

The language of thine eyes


                      Two dazzling balls which speaks with art
                     A glimpse of deep pains from thine heart
                       It shines the gloom as dimming moon
                           And take a weight of million tons.
                          But lo my friend the time will pass
                          And all your burdens will be in trash.

Poem Details | by Bruce Coates |
Categories: age, death, earth, language, literature, today, writing,

Lost in Translation

Please translate my poems into
other languages if you can;

share 'em, if you will,
to the earth's end.

People may still tell each other
about what has been

before the heavens upon us
do descend.

Poem Details | by Freddie Robinson Jr. |
Categories: allusion, death, imagery, violence,

Blood Language

When the barrel speaks,
crimson thoughts 
are expressed non-verbally

Scarlet tones
perforate the air
with ballistic shrieks

Coroner syntax
are arranged in morgue sentences 
of alphabetical autopsies

When the barrel speaks,
violent desires
are sated in silencer reverie

Blue steel fiery emotion
be coldly exclaimed
by stained tongues trigger happy

Solemn whispers
is the universal language
spoken with rigor mortis affinity