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Lonely Age Poems | Age Poems About Lonely

These Lonely Age poems are examples of Age poems about Lonely. These are the best examples of Lonely Age poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

Afloat On a Lavender Sea

Decades yawn and stretch across the years, traveling up the stairs, around the chairs coiling around the door of one small room that was groomed by the sun of a Saturday afternoon... Floating on a sea of a hardwood floor I'm prone, on my back, on a lavender rug Examining the nail of my left hand thumb hearing you express, that you aced your class I had confessed, to missing you more each day linked only to you, by that ivory phone and a ring on my finger, that bound our love and blinded our eyes to the doubt of youth... Invitations in the mail, and a church on hold There was a cake on order, and a cold hard world You were glued to my ear, I was entrapped by a cord that tugged on the wall, with every word Light from the yard is scored by the blinds but, there on the floor, prone on my back, I'm bound by the cord that tethered our lives Linked to your voice, where love was wound Hovering over the sea of cold hardwood, I had a pillow of shag of a lavender rug The days stretching short and our vows yet untold A cord getting stronger, that time would unfold
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Details | Free verse |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia


Details | ABC |

The Perfect Friend

The Perfect Friend ©

Today I found a friend 
Who knew everything I felt
She knew my weakness
And the problems I’ve been dealt.
She understood my wonders
And listened to my dreams, 
She listened to how I felt about life and love
And knew what it all means.
Not once did she interrupt me
Or tell me I was wrong
She understood what I was going through
And promised she'd stay long.
I reached out to this friend, 
To show her that I care
To pull her close and let her know
How much I need her there.
I went to hold her hand 
To pull her a bit nearer
And I realized this perfect friend I found
Was nothing but a mirror

Written by Shannen Wrass
Copyright © 1995 Shannen Wrass. All Rights Reserved


Details | Free verse |

It Can't Be Real

A truth in rage of insult furrows my mind
For it is only an offense given to me by myself
In the mouths of others far innocent than I
I feel the tears trickle down my cheeks
For I have surfaced into an ugly mistake
I am always inadequate in this brain
I try to shine like the advice of grace given
But confidence rarely rears its head my way
There’s a sort of shade blocking its way
A shade that darkens everyday

That very shade led me to believe my feelings are wrong
That I will never belong so long as they are not controlled
I must be careful—for the lines of love and lust run cold
I hate myself truly this night
And no one but myself will give me the right
The very right to degrade my every being
Because you are not seeing what I am seeing

There is no point
My lines run cold
Can I be so bold as to say
I still love with a pang of indistinguishable doubt 
All feelings enter in
As my truth blurs and checks out

Your words pierce me so deep
I cannot describe the pain I feel
God it hurts so bad
It can’t be real

Much like the love I have come to embrace
The very love that links to your face
Tears don’t give it justice

It can’t be real
Much like the love I will never face


Details | Bio |

read this please

They hate you because your you
They make up lies and call it true
They're fake behind your back
Hoping someday that you'll crack.

They hate you because your real.
no matter what they say you always heal
They're surprised to see you rise,
That you're not affected by all these lies


They hate you because you smile at them
It shows them that your a real gem
You are always true and do your best :)
Sometimes these haters just cant test

They hate you for no reason
Despite it all, you smile
whatever the reason
At the end of the day
All i'm gonna say
All i plan to be 
IS ME


-Sanderline Fleury :)


Details | Quatrain |

Lonely Dreams

I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.


Details | Narrative |

Sleepless Nights

Insomnia, familiar friend,
crawled into bed this summer night
so once again, inflamed with dread
I wander now in pitch of dark 
and touch the places, now by heart, that sprawl unstirred by weary minds

This lonely place, where I used to come
where armless grief, and headless doubt
and worry filled the rooms
I know you cold, my land of oz
So ruthless do you change your face
into a place I once refrained

But,  don't pretend to make me fear, toxic robber of my sleep
I've known you much too long
You masquerade in shades of gray
And now I know that dark of night, is not the blackest thing
And room by room, I'll play the game
until the light of day

The shadows magnify your art
and though they magnify my loss of sleep
and while I've tossed and turned in vain
I've lost the lonely albatross
that pulled against the grain

From hooded thresholds I embark
to find a language of the dark
A liquid language of a mystic night, 
that switches on the light

I've walked the halls of ghosts I knew, and those I hope to meet
I've felt the stares, and shared myself, no secrets left to keep
But not tonight, familiar friend
you bask in myth I understand
I'll fill the tasks that need my hands, until the light of day...
---------------


For Leonora Galinta's Contest


Details | Free verse |

The Wasteland -Part 1-

How can one express the baffling depths of obscurity? How can one behold to open the shafts of the mind? I have never been able to solve the mystery— Of myself. . . I wish at times that my life was no more That I could live as another and finally see things right But I am always stuck in this darkness And I cannot see this mind in light There are beasts. . .demons prowling through the wasteland Searching for any remaining life And if they are ever found— They are doomed and consumed Fear is their downfall and they never fail to smell it Their ashes remain, dancing with the imaginary breeze It is silent here—there are no answers I wish there were answers. . . But maybe there was never a reason No answers. . . Talons extend and clench around my heart They will never seek me out—they left me here It is like they knew…I had no reason—that was the answer I feel the pulse of my dangling life Alone in the dark, whimpering like a child I have scared myself, becoming this dragon-daggered youth No balm in Gilead! No eyes to see All I know will never be free I don’t need anyone! You are a disgrace—scum of the waste! You have everything, you ungrateful little nothing You are a joke. . . So swallow it all up like the pushover you are Stand your lowest and trudge right through No questions. No answers. Just . You. Or just lie back down into the mush of disease It has already infected you to the core Accept who you are, you ugly pestilence! I hate you Who are you to be glorified? Dream snatcher. . .murderer of all things bright Saturated in what you call light I see right through—even as the reflections shatter All of the dead kept you alive—they all matter… But alive you are the worst there is False savior—edited attention whore I never want to see your face again See, that’s why I hide. . . Desperation. . .desperation. . . I sob and cry kneeling in defeat For once I am right. . .I am right


Details | Terzanelle |

The Magpie and The Butterfly, A Terzanelle

I look out upon a lonely Magpie,
I feel a great stirring deep in my heart,
As he gracefully glides across the sky.

He’s always searching for his other part,
The Butterfly to whom he gave his soul,
I feel a great stirring deep in my heart.

But he does not know that he is still whole,
Even when apart she is still with him,
The Butterfly to whom he gave his soul.

For that’s what love means, it is no whim,
Giving yourself wholly to another,
Even when apart she is still with him.

And the Butterfly is with her lover,
Knowing the greatest gift that one can give,
Giving yourself wholly to another.

My heart is yours for as long as I live,
I look out upon a lonely Magpie,
Knowing the greatest gift that one can give,
As he gracefully glides across the sky.


*Decoding: reading the first line of each stanza  forms a message to my “Magpie” from his “Butterfly” (as does the last ;) )


Details | Free verse |

Between Happiness And Sadness

Between happiness and sadness
 —silence; an angel prays:

I kiss the loneliness of old people, 
their temples like handfuls of winter; 
their hearts
are used baggage, 
waiting; 
memories speak to them, 
they smile and
tell me stories from their youth 
—sadness falls; 
silence passes unspoken
—they remember the dead. 

I kiss the loneliness from their temples
and sadness lifts from their mouths.

———————————————————————
From my first book: 'In Forbidden Language'

©dah / Stillpoint Books 2010
all rights reserved

Search Amazon Books: "in forbidden language/dah"


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