poems about brokenness

Business Mixer

Meeting at a business mixer,
Exchanging half smiles,
Striking up a conversation
About a mutually shared
Interest, profession.

After only a few sentences,
The insecurity kicks in,
Denigrating what the other does
To make oneself feel better,
More important.

Cycle of pathetic competition,
Broken people stepping on
Each others’ heads to
Continue avoiding
Looking inward.

Get the Poetry Collection
Unconventional Being - Minimalist Poetry Book by Guy Farmer

Readers around the world have found pieces of themselves in these poems. Discover the collection.

Get Your Copy on Amazon

At the Top of the Hill

You’ll find it
At the top of the hill,
In that house no one
Lives in anymore,
Where that one family
Nobody talks about
Endured all those
Unmentionable things,
Collective loss of
Memory, the weight of
What we actually are.

Moment and Location

Waking up, another
Fear-infested day,
Reading the headlines
Stemming directly from
His own toxicity,
Him, there but for
Circumstance, separation of
Only moment and location,
Already part of the
Horror, anticipating the
Inevitable conclusion.

They See Her

Something happens at some point,
A troubling change of demeanor,
The life leaves her eyes,
Optimism and hope succumb to
Baser beliefs inculcated long ago
And exploited anew more recently,
The need to be loved erasing
Reason, empathy, decency.
An unsettling timbre infiltrates
Her voice, a syrupy monotone
Masquerading as moderation.
She aligns herself with her oppressors,
Sympathizing with their plight,
Helping to promote a false narrative
Shamelessly smeared with fear and hate.
She loses her self,
Becoming a champion for injustice,
Reveling in the calculated support
She receives from the darkness.
They see her coming, they always do.

Family Reunion

Family reunion,
Everyone looks happy,
All the guys
Standing by the barbecue
One-upping each other,
All the women in
The kitchen talking
About the men,
Kids running around,
Underlying misery.

Whatever He Wants

He can choose
Any path really,
His wealth allows him
To pretty much do
Whatever he wants,
Whenever he wants,
In any way
He wishes to.
It’s not so hard
To make someone
Else’s life a
Little easier,
More rewarding,
Worthwhile,
Empires can be built
With kindness,
Sharing doesn’t have
To be an expletive.
He elects to
Pay low wages.

Second Thought

I keep wishing he
Would keep his beliefs
To himself, but he
Confidently opens and
Closes his mouth without
Ever a second thought,
Making sure everyone
Knows exactly what he
Deems to be true,
Consistently demonstrating
How little he comprehends,
One person too many
In an elevator.

Everyday Event

You can see it coming,
Accompanying some
Everyday event and,
Predictably, becoming
Like every other thing
In his life—overly
Complicated by an
Entrenched inability to
Admit that he doesn’t
Know everything,
Fearing he’ll be
Exposed.

He’s Happy

Deprived of the love
He needed when he
Was growing up,
He’s now unable to
Feel it for anyone else,
Including himself,
His life a caustic
Ordeal of ire
Accompanied by wretchedness,
Although, if you ask him,
He’ll assure you he’s happy.