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Confusion Ballad Poems | Ballad Poems About Confusion

These Confusion Ballad poems are examples of Ballad poems about Confusion. These are the best examples of Confusion Ballad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad |

Bobby

 This one is totally fictional.

Don't cry little guy just 'cause you're moving away
Your daddy's got a brand new job out in Santa Fe
He's trying to make a better life for your mom and you
So, how about holding back those tears
Yes, I'm crying too
So I said goodbye to Bobby like I knew I had to do
But Some things that I told him
Weren't exactly true
I wish I could have told him to stay
If that's where he'd really like to be
I wish I could have told him the truth
About his mom and me
So, I said goodbye
And tried not to cry
And told him to have fun
I wish I could have said to him
Bobby, you're my only son.


Details | Ballad |

A DEEP AND ICY NEVER

The first week of August
you and I were here
With friends at a party
laughing.. having a beer

You were my Summer
blooming bright as day
Your fragrance in the air
was blowing me away

Thought we had a magic
a special chemistry
Told you that I loved you..
then you just stared at me

I caught you by surprise
a blizzard began to blow 
Looked like frosty Winter
a freezing, bitter snow
I could see it in your eyes
a deep and icy never
An avalanche consumed me
felt frozen out forever

Guess I really missed it
you weren't ready to sing
I won't be bowing a knee
or buying a diamond ring

But what if it were possible
to dig out of this drift I'm in
Could I really convince you
to give me a shot again

Maybe we're not Summer
but can we be Spring
Please don't make me Fall
and do that Winter thing

When..
I caught you by surprise
a blizzard began to blow 
Looked like frosty Winter
a freezing, bitter snow
I could see it in your eyes
a deep and icy never
An avalanche consumed me
felt frozen out forever

Date: 7-5-14


Details | Ballad |

Empathie

Etranges sentiments qui remplissent mon coeur
Confuses sensations, le mensonge est roi
D'obscures vibrations pénètrent en moi
Comme si tout me ment, amplifiant ma douleur

Ce que je ressens n'est à moi nullement
Emotions lointaines que capte mon esprit
Tristesse soudaine dont je suis fort surpris
Douloureux et blessant je subis ce tourment

Cette empathie forte me brûle m'enflamme
Livrant les parts d'ombre, sans un mot prononcé
Un univers sombre traverse mes pensées
En m'ouvrant  la porte, du livre des âmes


Details | Ballad |

He was only 17

He crushed his heart. On hopes flutteringly light as butterfly wings. On dreams foolishly bright as silver bells. On dreams seemingly fine and looking good. He broke his heart. On tales of lust hewn from his faint heart. He banked his faith on the words of a woman. He lost his sight searching into darkness. He thought it wise to love once and never again. He thought he had found his only love. His only hope. He was only 17


Details | Ballad |

A House On the Cliff's Edge

There is a house on the cliff’s edge,
Around a quiet, unmarked shoreline
At night, the tide lifts high against a foggy moon
In the morning, gloomy clouds settle with the sea
At times, not even the birds are seen or heard
The house is left to nature’s caress

Home-crafted seashell chimes sway and sing with the wind
Crushed sand dollars lie together on the back porch
The shells were once whole, collected by the former owners
Long gone are they now, smiling with the moon
The owners are the very sound of the ocean spray,
Striking the rocks, announcing the cool dawn of day
They are not the dark, empty rooms,
The rooms that nobody thinks of as they go about their lives
The quiet owners are long gone—thought of only by one
A stillborn legacy about as tiresome as the sun,
When the clouds crisp out its beams . . .

A seawater puddle is in the middle of the dining room
Nobody knows it sits there, sinking in the floorboards
It used to be a far larger puddle after a storm,
Stealthily leaking into the house
But now it is small—so small—and the boards are moist,
Moist with its only companion amongst the instilled silence

Nobody thinks of empty, abandoned rooms
Nobody remembers the former owners
They were not much for socials and gatherings
They always lived their quiet, happy lives
Without a care of the outside world,
Far from anybody’s thought
Miles from the nearest home
Where the next generation comfortably lives 

He never finished fixing that leak . . .

Sometimes the puddle gets bigger after other storms
And when it does, there is almost life there again
You can see the chandelier reflected on the unperturbed water
As a crystal dangles and falls from on high
The dark silence following the drop is as deep as thought . . .

Nobody thinks of empty, abandoned rooms
Nobody remembers the former owners
There is merely a house on the cliff’s edge
Around a quiet, unmarked shoreline

-March 21, 2013-


Details | Ballad |

Is It Worth It

Love can seem so happy and so wonderful
But it can hurt and take away from life too
You make me so happy and make me feel so special
But then you turn around and make me feel like ****
love can turn you into a whole new person
But you could change into to something great or something no one wants
Love seems so wonderful at first 
But spending my days not knowing if you want me or even care for me is agonizing 
Sometimes i feel like your lying to me but if i say that then you'll get mad again
Your such a loose cannon, ready to burst with rage and tears
Love is so temperamental 
so can you tell me....... 
Is It Worth It?


Details | Ballad |

The Power Of Pride

As I surmise all that is me strewn and cluttered, 
My conscious lies casually shorn and shuttered, 
For here lie the spoils of stubborn iniquity, 
I shuffle and toil, floundering in frailty. 

Oh what great havoc, what conscious so lewd, 
Creates such traffic which now spoils the fruit, 
Of truly righteous deeds committed by a scurrilous man, 
Of whom I could no better know, no better understand, 

For this terribly lost and forever forlorn soul, 
Is none other than me shivering and sniveling so, 
And as helpless as I suddenly appear to be, 
I now understand the strength pride provides so easily, 

For there is purpose in pride, yet none in shame, 
As ambition carries us blind to who’s at blame, 
And just where is the woe when the devil may care, 
For we are soon found alone, our conscious left bare, 

And as I embark into this desolate place, 
My horrors so dark, my fears crimson in taste, 
Forward I race into the perilous pit, 
With none other to blame for this simple life I quit.


Details | Ballade |

Why aren't we happy

Why aren’t we happy?

What is it in the most of us?
We are not how we should be
We should be like a singing bird
Who boldly, in the trees
Sings his song when fear is done
His life just flows along
He only knows the dance of life
So he just sings his song.


And yet we humans live our lives
Enfolded in our fears
Glorifying in the sad
And making this quite clear
As we always speak of doom and gloom
And watch it on TV
And always live our lives in fear
Is this the way it should be?


If only each would take a look
And see just what we be
We never see the flowers grow
Or let our hearts be free
Maybe it’s time to see the truth
Of what this life could be
If we look at life without the fear
And live with mystery.

6 August 2013 @ 1908hrs.


Details | Ballad |

Windows Apart

She slips away silently, to escape mothers screams
And crawls so softly, into bed, into dreams

His dreams became so dark
Left them to his escape into the dark
To dream open eyes outside window 
Across his vision he saw as light lost its flicker 

Loss for air she lay, sobbing away sorrow
But she felt invaded, grasping in surprise's horror
So close these shattered mirrors lay
A soft curious cry,a leaf blow away
Together now their halos became so clear
The coping of bewildered souls to share

He slips away silently, to escape his skeleton's haunts
And crawls softly, into new arms, to cure a world of wants


Details | Ballad |

Across the Way - The Sequel

Another day and the dishes have piled up yet again
So back I end up in front of the window 
I do not glance up, but concentrate
On the dull, dirtied objects before me
I do not hear the voices from yesterday
I still wallow in the grime of gray
I smile in malcontent
As I lather the dishes with soap
Against my will, I look up 
To see a lone, fat man opening a refrigerator
He is shirtless, bulgy, and he looks pregnant
My first supposition is to laugh
But I only look back down at the dishes
Not wanting to stare at the fat man
Not wanting to think he looks pregnant
For sure not wanting him to be my neighbor
Across the way

Against my will again, I look up
The fat, pregnant man is gone
I see ornaments on the refrigerator
Some pictures, some magnets
Family; not so different from my life
But yet, there is a transparent fancy of mystery
A flashy rage of difference in the silence
Oh, so quiet
The blazing sun sprays its light upon the hour
Not only are my hands wet from the soapy water
The deafening tone of quietude
Revels in me a mixture of loneliness and physical heat
A burning desire for something not seen
A desire for utter disgust of my newly found neighbors
But I find myself not disgusted at all
Until I look up again and see a fully naked man at the window
Across the way


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