These Lonely Metaphor poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Lonely. These are the best examples of Lonely Metaphor poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
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.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
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,
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.
All results of
Spilling ink onto paper,
fragments of mirth,
shards of anguish,
trapped in rolled-up sleeves.
Turning up my collar,
as blue as these days that slip by,
scattered verses plunge into,
the fathoms of unknown waters.
My ink runs, slips, treading lightly,
penning odes to love on bare skin,
your bare back my canvas,
my fingers tracing, caressing, scribbling,
homages to our laughter, our tears.
lie spent, exhausted,
famished and parched from saying too much,
my fingers tickle your soft skin,
my ink would run dry,
were it not for your gentle touch
The CAPTCHA took me by surprise tonight
Letters became ghouls in my mind’s eye
I listed them—
Noted them; words...begging, crying out for me
CAPTCHA was merely mocked
By millions of viewers on keyboards
I imagined all—
Tears began to fall
How may I help you, CAPTCHA?
Are you merely what they say?
Is there more—
Tell me, I pray
You bewilder my senses with your emptiness
The computer became my way to you
But all I could do—
I began to imagine someone stuck in CAPTCHA
A place where they harbored the weak
They took what they pleased—
Allowed them to speak
Today it was happening and evermore
There was a reason I came to know
I want to know more
I swallowed air and typed in the words
Feeling worthless and absurd
I began to believe—
There was more to this irrational dream
The screen went black and then I was sure
I couldn’t doubt it anymore
The CAPTCHA wanted me—
The letters suddenly blurred and unseen
Let them go
Full of woe
Take me now
Tell me how to
Set them free
Knowing is free
Knowing is free
For years I have copied your codes
Knowing you are there
Crying in the dark pit of despair
Though empty your words are to me
They are all I hear
All I fear—
In four letters on this electric trap
What am I to do?
To follow would weary my soul
Would take its toll
What is this foreign word my dear?
Oh, how can you cut and paste it in my mind so clear?
Close your eyes and count to ten
The victims of the CAPTCHA remain a mystery to us all
Yet still we stare at the codes and merely imitate them
We are zombies staring our lives away
Trapped in CAPTCHA’s claws
Sad, deprived. . .
I speak your language to stop this cruelty:
THEE 2TRUE TH78 IS9X BEF4 HOUR VERY EYES
Though we choose not to see
We choose not to fight
We choose only to IMITATE
We merely copy and paste
Hoot! Hoot! Came the call
In silence I listened,heard
Suddenly, hoot! Hoot!
Came the cry,tree
Seems the world was in
Went I to the window
and Looked into the
empty Darkness. As I lay
down,I Knew somewhere
I would Hear that sound
The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes. Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.
‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’
I opened my eyes,under.
A bleak atmosphere-
deserted I beheld.
Sinuous channels flowing.
As I walked on vast layer
Beyond the horizon,the
World lay bare.
With my heart in my
Hand,I passed thru
Argyle And Hellas,amid
eerie Sounds echoing as
Coloured dust particles
Created shifting light
And dark patterns.
How came I into this
Three thousand miles,
Across is chasm;beneath
Lay the throne of Hades
Drawing near,I jolted
As I heard a voice.
In the ship, this voice
Echoed in my ears-
"Welcome to earth!"
Shadows and murky darkness deep
Describe the depths of lonely hearts
That lie in wait and icy chill
For fiery love to burst in flames;
That empty chests may be refilled
And taste sweet love again!
Let the Deicide commence.
You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.
I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways
Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own personal reality
The Beach of Promises
Fingers entwined, barely touching,
turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes,
strolling along that serene deserted beach,
our promised dreams within aching reach.
Hands clasped, holding on,
sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck,
walking together, alone, vowing to never breach,
the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach.
Hands in my pockets, alone,
traces of you linger, teasing,
lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach,
my thoughts ablaze, now and then,
catching a whiff of your fragrance,
wafting through alleyways of nostalgia,
your hand in mine on our pristine beach.
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...