Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Write Ballad Poems | Ballad Poems About Write

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

Details | Ballad |

This Song is for my Mother

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
I couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
A song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created and cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Memory of a mother
Shared my dreams and really cared

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
I know I wasn’t there……

For you

Would have placed 
A magic carpet 
‘neath your weak and shaky legs

Would have raised
A strong west wind
Let you breathe with ease again

Would have bribed 
God’s venal angels
Come and soothe your endless pain

Would have vanquished
All the demons
And bring peace to you again

Be the child
I never knew
In a land
We won’t grow old

Be the light
I always loved
Warmed my dark 
And lonely soul

Be the girl
Playing games
In a world 
The sun won’t set

Be the laughter
Calms my heart
I never will forget
I won’t forget, won’t forget

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
Couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
Song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Ashes of the words I spoke

I broke my promises, oh mama
Now you’ve gone away 
I’m broken
Drowning in the pain each day

I’m  drowning…drowning...drowning…drowning

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me…….

Details | Ballade |

I'll only write the truth

I’ll only write the truth

I have always wrote my poems
To please the eyes of others
I’ve wrote those songs of nature
I have wrote about my lover
I have always wanted comments
So I’d write words oh so sweet
But this is only half of me
And I want to be complete.

So now I write only the truth
And how I really feel
It’s all that now shall come from me
I’ll show folk what is real
I’ll write on my philosophy
And really give folk me
Unless the truth is spoken
How can a man be free.

I see the writings on this site
About religions, and beliefs
And I feel that I must do the same
Even though I bring on grief
I’ll miss out on the comments
But do I really care?
For I am here, to speak the truth
A thing that’s very rare.

12 January 2014 @ 0625hrs

Details | Ballade |

Letting words flow out

Letting words flow out.

I take my pen into my hand
And let these words pour out
I want to tell the whole damned world
Just what I’m all about
I want to touch something in folk
Some thought, or some emotion
I say it like I only can
As I put my pen in motion.

Been writing for a long time now
Since I was just a kid
When other lads would kick a ball
This is what I did
It seemed to come quite naturally
I never even tried
And even now at seventy one
This thing has never died.

I’ve never called myself a poet
Just a writer this be me
I don’t care about form and stuff
I let the words flow free
I don’t care what others think
I write just what I please
And when these words come pouring out
It gives my heart such ease.

6 May 2014 @ 1855hrs.

Details | Ballad |

where are the words

Why is it that when, you want to write a verse
that your mind is really blank, you're thinking with a curse
I'm really bored, yes bored to tears, and would like to say
I wish that I could find the words to even write a play

Where are the words that normally just pop into my head
and when a verse just pops up from something someone said
I really can't understand where those words can be
one can usually close one's eyes and there's the words to see

Oh, I'll have to give it up, for nothings coming right
I'll go to bed, and then they're there right within my sight
but dam and blast It's typical but it is very true
as soon as you close your eyes the words come right to you

Details | Ballad |


Like others that love in haste,
and their passions go to waste...
I mustn't write end
to this beautiful story
like a sad tragedy;
I've come to the conclusion
that there are more questions
than answers that need
to be considered
and leave nothing to suspicion!

There wouldn't be a victory,
if we ran away from sincerity;
I've seen lovers lose
their chance at happiness...
all because they didn't choose
to be true and wise!

Like people unsure of themselves,
twisting cover them up
with bitter  sweetness...
I musn't write end
to this beautiful story
that needs to be told intact:
to lovers who risk  everything         
with hearts so open to joy!

And I won't be satisfied until I breath
the same air that you breath,
and go through Hell to reach Heaven...
to be sure that I never be coming back!

I mustn't write end to this beautiful story; 
let these hearts  find their own glory!

Details | Ballade |

It's all alright

It’s all alright

It’s all alright
I’m off the net a while
I’m going on a holiday
I’m going with a smile
To visit dusty corridors
I’m going to take a journey
 And let the insights come and go
As I take a trip into me.

I’ve done a lot of writing
Poems and comments too
But now, I’m taking rest from this
Just like I often do
I’m going into my center
Find out what I be
And let these words come floating out
All filled with mystery.

I don’t have words like diamonds
Just a lot of simple stuff
That’s all that I can ever do
Yet simple is enough
The truth, is always simple
One must just let it in
So now the melodies start to flow
And songs, they will begin.

Details | Ballade |



Why do I sit and write this stuff?
Pure love, my friends, pure love
I’ve always had a love for words
Now a gift from up above
Has shown itself to be my lot
What a lucky guy am I
I’m always going to write my stuff
Until the day I die.

Why do I sit and write I ask
But the answers always there
Cause when I’m writing down my words
I have me nary a care
The words just flow, it’s wonderful
This feeling that I get
There’s something that I want to say
But I ain’t said it yet.

Why do I sit and write, you ask
It’s a thing that I must do
I’ve done it now since just a child
And there’s always something new
To write about, I never lack
A thing or two to say
And anyway I am retired
And it helps me pass my day.

28 August 2013 @ 1500hrs.

Details | Ballad |

My addiction

I have an addiction...
It dont matter what time of day it is my addiction is there...
Not always in the literall since...
But it is always on my mind...
I lay my head down to sleep at night thinking about you...
I sleep dreaming about you...
I wake up thinking about you...
Your always on my mind...
No matter what I do my addiction is always on my mind...
Even if your not the last one I talk to before I lay my head down to sleep...
I still lay my head down thinking of you...
I just cant get enought of you...
No matter what my addiction is there...
My addiction has a name...
Her name is Shelby Nestle...
No matter how much we text or talk on the phone...
Its never enough...
I cant get enough of your beautiful eyes...
I cant get enough of that beautiful smile...
I cant get enough of kissing your soft lips...
That feeling I get inside when our lips touch...
Or holding you in my arms...
This is a new addiction to me...
Never have I been this addicted this quick...
It scares the shyt outta me...
But then I love it...
You are my new addiction baby... 
You are my...
My heroin...
My ecstacy... 
My cocaine...
You are my own personal drug...
I cant imagine and addiction stronger...
You are my addiction...
I wouldnt even think about trying to break this addiction...
I wouldnt go to rehab for this addiction...
I like it to much...

Details | Ballade |

This treasure in my soul

This treasure in my soul

There’s a treasure in my soul
That tries to come to you
I  want that everyone should know
That all my words so true
They come to me through inspiration
And flow out on this sheet
Without these words that pour out through me
My life is not complete

I sit here in the morning hours
And let these words flow out
I don’t know  what will come on through
Or what each song’s about
What might come I do not know
I let my fingers move
Across this keyboard tenderly
I have nothing to prove.

I just love to scribble down
A multitude of words
The heart is doing all the work
The mind is kind of blurred
I do not think; I write, that’s all
As I hope for the best
I only know that when I write
That’s when I’m happiest.

2 November 2013 @ 0500hrs

Details | Ballad |

My Morning Dew

If I had luck with a guitar
I would pluck you a gentle tune 
If I had been blessed with a soothing voice
I would play you the sweetest melody

I would carve you an effigy of love
If my hands were humbled with the Skillman ship of a sculptor
I would your statue place at the centre of my town
With the sweetest caption known to the statue race on it

I would with the brightest colours, to reflect your charming smile,
Paint a portrait of your beautiful face
If the gods had favoured me with a painter’s talent
I would hang your Mona-Lisa like portrait in all the museums in the world

I would dare the fires of Mordor
Just to mold you the most glistening pieces of jewelry
The purest of a golden ring with the biggest diamond
A Hollywood girl would forever dream of I would make you

Or I would bring you the freshest roses
The smelliest of their kind
If only I had enough to have my own orchard
I would grow you pink and red roses in my back yard

I would stuck you a pile of riches in your pillow case
Then I would surprise you to open it when you wake
That would be if I had a good fortune
To spoil my honey dew with abundant life

But I am a frog with a guitar
My hands are too weak for a sculptor
A blind man would outshine me at a game of paint and brush
The fires of Mordor, ho! I wish the Hollywood supermodels would envy your golden ring
But I would never muster enough bravely to dare the ever blazing flames
I would indeed collect the sweetest pink and red roses
But I lack even my own daily bread to own an orchard
That goes even for the fortune I wish I would surprise and spoil you with

I however have muse’s abundant gifts in my quill
Thus with it I scribble you this poem
To soothe you my honey
To pluck you that tune from my virtual guitar
To carve you the effigy of love
And paint you the Mona Lisa of your own
To endow me with the courage to dare the furnaces of Mordor
And bask in the fountains full of rose’s red and pink
For in my virtual world I have all the riches to spoil you with
And with muse’s gift I with this quill
Scroll you this piece my morning dew