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Age Sympathy Poems | Age Poems About Sympathy

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

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Details | Rhyme | |

Thank you

Thank you – Zamreen Zarook

Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.

Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.

People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.

Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.

Copyright © Zamreen Zarook

Details | Lyric | |

To young to die

Too young to die

They take a boy, too young to shave
Who has never lived his life
While his mates are chasing girls
They fill his life with strife
They send him off to a brand new war
Over some damned fools Ideal
I don’t understand their wars
And I guess I never will

The folk who like to run the show
Or most of them at least
Have never even been to war
They’ve never felt the beast
As he rips right into one’ intestines
That hollow hole of fear!
Each leader should be sent to war
Then the picture might grow clear

Then when they send young boys to war
They’ll see the whole damned show
The weight of endless terror
 And then maybe they’ll know
What it’s like as a fine young man
To be sent out there to die
He might then know, how a mother feels
When she’s lost her little guy.

1 August 2013 @ 1443hrs.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Free verse | |

Sitting Alone

Sitting alone here,
all by myself,
looking at a reflection that I do not recall.
I see a face looking back at me,
a twin,
but not my twin,
no I see a pale face,
I see jealously, pain, sorrow, and a frown
I see all the negative.
I see fear,
I see nothing.

I am sitting alone,
in my room
white walls surround me.
I hear the trains blow their horns off in the distance,
and the cars and trucks roaring down the lonesome highways.
I can even the crying and wailing of sirens
blazing down the avenues,
"Where is the fire, folks!?"

The wind blows through my window,
moving the blinds back and forth,
and I sit there alone,
smiling and singing a little.
Sitting there alone,
peaceful and tired
wanting to rest my head,
but scared too face the nightmares.
Too hear the voices of the dead
call out my name.
And I sit there alone
thinking of what once was,
beauty and harmony nomore
in my trial of certainty.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski

Details | Lyric | |



                             The Apple PASTURE

Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.


Copyright © JAY JOHNSON

Details | Prose | |


She has become
Like a thin Chinese tea cup
Placed upon a large rock
She has become… fragile
Afraid to go anywhere
Least she break

She sits outside
When the weather is clear
Reading the same book
She has read for many years
Painfully turning the pages
With crooked fingers

I see her smile
As the lines on her face
Seem to multiply ten fold
While she tries to remember
Why she is smiling

When the cooler weather
Dances around her
She wears a long soft scarf
Wrapped many times
Around her neck
To keep the cold away

She will ask me
"When will my friends
Be coming by?"
And I sit next to her
Hold her hand
And say to her
Soon Grandma… soon

Copyright © CJ Krieger

Details | Rhyme | |

Tired squire

Angel of fire, followed by faithful right hand,
the squire of no desire, he's lonely, old and tired,
but his war is a death sentence from over, 
years made him bolder, while also much colder,
a crack away from snap, snap away from burst,
stomach hurts, tear and squirts out the insides,
no one knows where he went but he can't hide,
angel thinks "he's mine", 
but without his mind, which she took, he's blind,
goin down a road no one can find, 
sad really, it's kinda silly,
his thoughts are many but acts are few,
just wants to sit in the morning fog and dew.

Copyright © Austin Carmen

Details | Rhyme | |

My Coming of Age

I wasn’t young – but not that old
I looked down – my blood ran cold
I spied a single little hair
That yesterday just wasn’t there
I thought to show it to my mother
But thinking that just made me shudder
I don’t think she would understand
After all she’s not a man
I’d show it to the guys I know
But they’d just laugh so that’s no-go
I don’t want to wait till I get more
Though I’m sure there’s more in store
So I’m turning to my friends on Soup
At least those in my own age group
And hope that one of them will care
To hear about my grey chest hair

Mdailey 	2/7/12
For Frank Herra's Coming of Age Contest

Copyright © mike dailey

Details | Personification | |

Old Age

Gone the days, when in the morn.
It felt good to be born.
Healthy,radiant and fit.
Leap out of bed, toot quick.
Now I rise with painful cries.
What troubles are in store?
No-good ships sail this shore.
Gone the smiles I used to get.
Now only disrespect.
A burden and a trial.
Cannot run a mile.
Too old for love, not a chance.
Not a second glance.
Memories gone, best not gotten.
Sooner lost quicker forgotten.
Of the future, there is none.
For an old and lonely Norm

No good ships sail this shore.
Refers to Shirley Temple and
her song " On the good ship Lollipop"
Too old for love. I hope not.
Forever hopeful.
Memories never gone, I live by them.
I have had a full life and wish for more.

Copyright © Norman Purvis

Details | Ballade | |

The Helpless Child

At the tender age of five
All alone and left to die
Father drunk and fueled with rage
Mother sniffing and shooting cocaine
Little teddy bear worn and ripped
Attached to her little broken hip
Her tears flood like an open gate
Hope someone hears her cries before it's to late

Hard wooden floors is where she lays
No pillow for her head  to dream of better days
Tiny shirt with Winnie the pooh
No socks or shorts just a diaper held together by glue
Hair of black like her swollen eyes
No ribbon in hair so this makes me cry
Sun candles beating through window pane
Hands placed upon her for what has this really gained

Everyone in church wonders where this little girl has gone
Or what in the world could she have done wrong
Little voice singing like an angel from up  above
Arrived in this world on the wings of a dove
Now there is a  empty pew
And her bible that  was unread and new
Only her name remains left behind
By the ones who loved her and who were so kind

So at a  tender age of only five
Left alone to lay there and die
When will one ever learn
Not to raise a hand on a child for your soul could be burned

{  Tribute To Abused Children }

Fictional Story Folks

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Free verse | |


Driving WHILE intoxicated Driving Under the Influence Driving With Ignorance. 
Two men speaking one man was scarred on his legs very bad burned and old 
healed up and working again no not the age of the man which was uncertain but 
the age of the burns was evident. He said his wife refused to pay the insurance 
on his truck and they repo came and got the truck he is riding now the city bus 
telling everyone he is the man how can he be so happy at losing everything he 
got his truck his driver license gone 
He still denies the alcohol the problem he says he drinks a very lot less but to 
me that is missing it he drinks and still acts tough and wants to keep his job and 
worthless partee. 
His life is slow but still he manages to crawl. 

Copyright © charles hice

Details | Lyric | |

Get a Place

My dad is little angry but mum is alright.
If they feel different don’t get so tight.
They love me very much that’s why,
They always measure what is my height?

Dad heart is pure consult me always free,
I respect for experience he has knowledge light.
Mum cares for my taste and for a fashion,
Her choice is wonderful and very bright.

They shared my pain and offered happiness,
Sometimes I have argument but they were right.
If partner is in a young age enjoyment is lot,
Money and degree can’t get a place might.

If children are in early age they grown up soon,
Grand will be ever happy in olden age fight.
A right time is a right time and bad time is bad,
Care for your time if you want to enjoy life kite.

Copyright © Daljit Khankhana