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Long Little sister Poems | Long Little sister Poetry

Long Little sister Poems. Below are the most popular long Little sister by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Little sister poems by poem length and keyword.

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Long Poems
Long poem by David William Breidenthal | Details |

Charity

Crazy lady with model outfits – what now? You’ll see in a moment *hint* she’s a taker, not a giver ~!
Hah! She’s straight-out self-confident – I must laugh my pants off! What does she have to be confident about? Her eye-contacts? The spells she casts on guys? Her whorish appearances and girly, spunky appeals?  Her taste in clothing? Her taste in music (pop, rap, R & B, and all that jazz - all that Miley Cyrus, P!nk, Kelly Clarkson and Britney Spears songs)? Her skinny, perfect-looking body? Her deceiving looks or plump lips? Her many jewelry? Her makeup collection? Her wigs (she's faaake)? Her so-called "engaged" rings? Her fame? The way she dresses? Her reputation? Her pride (resulting to poverty without dough in her wallet)? Her fortune? So what…woman!
Ah...these evil streaks of Arrogance fulfills her heart of fleeting fame, her inner lusts and avaricious wants
Rage towards her little sister, Faith – the good apple of the bunch (spoiler alert)…the heart’s envy’s deceitful and she’s bound to have shame instead of success on a very high level…she’s charmed by her own bondage…her filthy, meaningless sins that she foolishly commits and feels nothing close to remorse…but what’s worse is that she feels accomplished when she does so, despite the appalling effects of it and she feels superior compared to everyone else, making everyone’s life miserable and feeding on other’s joy and claims it as her own heartlessly . . . (she’s very picky and horrid to be quite frank!)
I think she’s pathetic that she thinks she’s better than everyone else and thinks she’s on top of the world…not looking after her other sisters – she’s the oldest and the most immature of them all…what a pity…she doesn’t care what her rude comments does to others; she treats others with garbage and treats herself like a precious, wealthy princess in a royal, black and white checkered castle
There…I said it! You’re consuming the dirt instead of the truth, burying the lies and reveals the light in everything! It can explain what really happened in our history and in every individual history! Don’t test the truth by uttering those sickening lies. You stink with dishonesty and you like the flavors of fraudulence and your dreams you dream every night doesn’t capture the bigger picture…have a better frame of mind and don’t be polluting me with latest gossips and inconsiderate remarks!
Yeah – your kind, shy, but wild-child-of-a-niece needs to build good character – you have produced rotting, yet sophisticating and prideful fruit! Ew! She don’t need to wear those expensive, showy outfits you hand her grudgingly, but smirking with repellent pleasure! Wear your own swanky, kinky attires – stop being bitter and be a bit sweeter, please? Pretty prelease?


Long poem by Johnny Murphy Jr. | Details |

once

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Chops"

because that was the name of his dog

And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A



And his mother hung it on the kitchen door


That was the year that Father Tracy

took all the kids to the zoo

And he let them sing on the bus

And his little sister was born

with  no hair

And his mother and father kissed a lot

And the girl around the corner sent him a valentine signed with a row of X's

and he had to ask his father what the X's meant

And his father always tucked him in bed at night

And was always there to do it.


Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Autumn"

because that was the name of the season

And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A

and asked him to write more clearly

And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door

because of its new paint

And the kids told him

that Father Tracy smoked cigars

And left butts on the pews

And sometimes they would burn holes

That was the year his sister got glasses

with thick lenses and black frames

And the girl around the corner laughed

when he asked her to go see Santa Claus

And the kids told him why

his mother and father kissed a lot

And his father never tucked him in bed at night

And his father got mad when he cried for him to do it.


Once on a paper torn from his notebook

he wrote a poem

And he called it "Innocence: A Question"

because that was the question about his girl

And that's what it was all about

And his professor gave him an A

and a strange steady look

And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door because he never showed her

That was the year that Father Tracy died

And he forgot how the end of the Apostle's Creed went

And he caught his sister making out on the back porch

And his mother and father never kissed or even talked

And the girl around the corner wore too much makeup that made him cough when he kissed her

but he kissed her anyway because that was the thing to do

And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed

his father snoring soundly.


That's why on the back of a brown paper bag

he tried another poem

And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"

Because that's what it was really all about

And he gave himself an A

and a slash on each damned wrist

And he hung it on the bathroom door

because this time he didn't think

he could reach the kitchen.


Long poem by louzana nubani | Details |

a love not to be forgotten

A love not to be forgotten
After the disaster, after the misery
Little sister of mine begged my dad for chicks
He tried to convince her what a bad idea it is
How a hard caring takes to keep them alive
How a rise in temperature or decrease in temperature
May cause their death.
She didn’t get convinced, she is so stubborn
So dad said louzana so do you want one?
I my voice was weak, my sorrow increased, and I said no...
I went to the room, tried to study, and then fell in tears
I couldn’t imagine how life is without him
I couldn’t let go of him, I couldn’t believe he was gone
Dad, sisters came, six chicks they brought
Dad the room entered; told me the news:-
I two chicks have brought you 
I smiled untruthfully at him and went to take a glimpse
Six chicks sticking together seeking warmth; their sight softened my heart
Gave a feather to my stone -frozen soul 
I looked at them, carried them out of their box resistance
They started to poo, the other drinking the pee of another 
They seemed stupid and small 
The room called I went back to it 
2nd day,    somehow better, selected two of then and marked them red and blue
3rd day   , took one-hundred and something pics of them.
Day 4   ,   someone died.
Day 5,    someone died   .
Day 6,    someone died   .
Day 7:-     blue disappeared and was gone.
Day 8:- three were left: red, green and green
My love grew wider to red, he started to love me 
He started to sleep in my palm, and run after I go 
I love you red, forever, and eternity
I gave them all the love I can afford
My sister made a woolen jacket for him 
He wore it and slept in it a thousand times
The days past and his strength became sightless and the day became darker,
I looked at his little- small yellow face 
And see him trying to sleep on his fellow friend green 
Three days past, and he continued his suffering in them day by day, hour by hour, second by 
second, breath skipping breath
The days in their youngness and the chick in his last age…
My tears fell from the breath-taking scene and heart rending moment
I prayed and cried and begged and lied, what shall I do?
The 3rd day first morning woke up, the maid threw him away; found him all over ants,
All without breath.
I knew this day would come but I never thought it’d be too close
I never wanted his death to be too slow
But this is life, some people die, others are meant to stay 
Don’t know what is comin, feelin some guilt, never know who’d be the one 
Who would stay and share a partnership of a lifetime 


Long poem by Katelyn Roussell | Details |

My Brother

Too young,
Too soon.
Gone.
Just the other day you were laughing with me,
Just the other day you hugged me.
Just the other day you said “I’ll be home soon!”.
You were just a hop, skip, and a jump across the pond.
You were gonna come home the way you left,
by plane.
They sent you to that war over in the middle east.
You weren't even supposed to be gone for very long.
You were gonna come home,
“Just a short time.” you said,
“Just a quick trip.”.
Just the other day you sent me videos,
To check in on Mom and Dad and our little sister.
You asked if I were on my best behavior and what was happening at home.
Just the other night you told me to have sweet dreams and that’d you’d be home soon.
Just the other day you were laughing,
Just the other day you were smiling,
Just the other day you were talking,
Just the other day you hugged me goodbye,
Just the other day you were warm…
And your heart was beating.
Just the other day you were supposed to come home,
Just the other day there was a knock at the door,
but it wasn't you.
We all rushed to hug and kiss and see you again.
But it wasn't you.
Another soldier,
In his dress uniform.
A solemn look on his face,
A folded flag in his hands.
Mom started to cry,
Dad,
Was in shock.
Our poor sister didn't understand and asked where you were.
I had come to realize what was going on.
You were supposed to come home.
Not this poor man,
Burdened with this news.
You were supposed to come home,
The way you left.
They gave us your things,
The backpack still had half a bottle of your favorite soda,
Still left inside.
When I pulled it out,
The full force of reality hit me.
Tears streamed down my face as I hugged that bottle to my chest crying “NO!” over and over.
I cried out “Why?!? Why’d you take my brother!” to some unknown outer force,
But there was no response.
So I was forced to sit there as my sobs broke the silence and my tears plummeted to the ground.
I held onto that bottle of half gone soda like my life depended on it.
Because it was yours,
And it was your favorite,
And now… you are gone.
You were supposed to come home the way you left,
Smiling,
Laughing,
Heart beating.
Not in a box,
Not cold,
Not with your eyes closed forever,
And most definitely not dead.
Just the other day you were here,
With me,
Alive.
But now I wear black,
and more tears stream silently down my cheeks,
as you’re lowered down,
in that box,
beneath the earth.
You were supposed to come home,
But now you’re just gone.


Long poem by James Long | Details |

~ (~) ~ (Four Part-s-Part #2) Dedicated in Love to My Little Sister ~ Tina Marie Haynes ~ (~) ~

She reminded me of my Sister Tina... She had been adopted by a Christian Minister and her family, as we all eventually were, each separately adopted... who lived life to the fullest of faith. As they adopted so many children that had their own particular needs for love, and had had their struggle themselves with their own desire for it... Tina had a rare lung disorder, a form of Emphysema, and passed away at 6 1/2 years of age... But was as grateful for life as I feel a person could aspire to be... Every time she was asked "Tina" How are you feeling today?" She would fight, and I mean with all of her love for life to say... "I am just fine today, and how are you yourself today?" And she would talk with them for a time. She could barely even speak most of the time, and was in a wheel chair and on oxygen for the majority of her life, but she wanted people to know still that her life was wonderful... and was still concerned about another's day... She new that with God, she was well taken care of, and wanted the world to know this too... "I have always found this to be the most precious and endearing thing, among the very many things about her... and so the kitten that my daughter brought home for us could barely meow, and welcomed life and struggled to embrace it even though hers was distraught at the time... We kept her, and loved her greatly, and intently for this one reason... and every time someone was not feeling well, she would lay by their side or on there chest, upon their heart, and would stay there purring until they were well... A peculiar side note about her... My wife read the bible every day, and left it on our bed... and every time Precious was in labor, she would lay on that bible, and "I believe" Be praying to God for us and her new kittens that were on the way... That their life would bring a new life of this kind to another's, and so I find that she reminded me of my Sister Tina... in so many ways... because she was always grateful for life, and another's life, loved God, and moved to show it in all her ways, and I always found that the name that we gave her "Precious". Was the most fitting and adoring and endearing name that we could have given her... Because this is what she, like my little Sister, was to all of us, and to everyone she came in contact with, and who came in contact with her... . http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28yTkaR-q3Q&feature=related


Long poem by Therese Bacha | Details |

I Woke Up One Morning

                              "I Woke Up One Morning."

I woke up one morning as if from a dream, 
I had lived from being a child, to an old age. 
I was struck by anguish and fear until I realized 
that this dream was my awakened past.

I walked this earth with steady feet, 
Carrying my mind in my heart.
Surrounded by some who cared and 
other's who couldn't.
I felt betrayed and in return I wounded myself. 
Those marks are invisible, yet the pain is deeply 
felt with inner scars.

Along my path, I met my mother, a passive soul! 
kind, and generous, unable to express her perplexed mind. 
I met my father! unsatisfied at who he was, 
blowing blows of anger and frustration, into his world, 
yet sensitive enough To overwhelm his children with 
silence and authority, which he called love and protection 
from a world he feared. 
And under his wings was no such living.

I met my eldest brother, who's joy on this earth was 
short lived! A soul refined with inner depth and struggle 
to better himself and love unbounded by more love 
to those he loved.

I met my little sister, who will represent a loving 
child within a grown sensitive, and sensible feeling 
woman Her inner space, glows in her outer beauty, 
which remained young coming from the depth 
of her feelings, and suffering, and re-suffering, 
while creating from her own flesh her home.

We left our native home where we laughed, 
and cried, growing, hoping to fulfill a dream 
not yet dreamt. 
Follows a life with pressure, discontent,
pain, submissiveness we walked, unconnected  
with our partners, divided, never holding hands 
along the path.

Four new lives,  time, events, war, death, tears and smiles... 
engulfed our existence, until all that we call freedom 
brought an unaccomplished freedom 
short lived, yet lived.

I met my younger brother he our enigma our flesh 
and blood runs together in different fields. 
Children and more children they are our treasures. 
Their pains and joys reflect in our lives.

Yet, nothing can cut through the thread that holds 
our lives together. 
Young and old and growing will remain enduring, 
with every breath we breath, away or close, 
we hear each other's silences. 
Awake at night we see a portrait of beauty, love, 
courage, and endurance and colorful.

Awake with a warm feeling that I am 
that multiplicity of them, I am not alone
as they live in me and from me as one.

 Therese Bacha
12/12/12

Contest Old Poem You Are Proud Of.  Nathan. A  WIN (Honorable Mention)


Long poem by Nicole Viernes | Details |

Celestial Mask

So many times, have I cried your name, and you do not answer. I know not your face nor your name, yet I only know you are a sir. Perhaps now married, perhaps still single, nevertheless, You are my big brother, the longing for you makes me restless. The labyrinth of my life, it is everlasting. Everywhere I turn, I find more sadness that becomes unbearable and strangling. I will keep my eyes open and wait for you, but even if you cannot return my feelings, please know, Us meeting was no mere accident, I believe God sent you to me to show, I needed a chance to change, a chance to smile! So those who like me now, they have you to thank, While, Those who despise me can kiss my derrière, Because I will not drastically change myself for them, so there! Don't you agree that it was fate? I could have met anyone else, but it was you who opened the gate. When I was alone, self-loathing because of how my relatives treated me, You comforted me and told me I could talk to you, and through tears, I can see, Wait for me... Please... We will meet once and for all, You are my savior who saved one child from the darkness that loomed over so tall. However, my heart is already the color noir and full of madness, corruption, hatred and sadness, But you have only seen the loneliness in my heart, the depression and suicidal thoughts, yet with you, the impossible was possible, it was my happiness... I shared my thoughts with a few others, but you are the first, the only one I truly feel comfortable not hiding from. Everyone else, for some reason, cannot be trusted or be burdened with this weight of incredible sum. But the reason I trust you the most, the reason I love you, is because you, out of all the people in the world, told me it was okay to... Be me... Everyone else after was far too late and by then, I would have been found dead in the sea. To cut out the heart that pains me, to shoot the brain that over thinks, to drown in eternal sadness or burn away the impurity of those who influenced me... To destroy it all and leave. That is what will happen, therefore, I cannot risk strengthening the bonds I have with others, for soon, I will disappear without a trace, because of what I believe. When I exact revenge on my family, I will be wanted dead and will have no further purpose. I will revert to nature's soil. So, my existence will be a nuisance and though I will plunge everything in a hectic turmoil, I shall not regret a thing. May 1st, 2013; 5:13 pm


Long poem by Edward Hill | Details |

Sisters Passing

Life has curves
in the roads that are paved
bruised and battered memories 
some we have forgotten some we have saved.
All my life I looked into the heavens
for all of the answers
Now I'm seeking for God 
his Angels and his dancers.
Sitting in prison
with no one to hold
I scream out at Jesus 
who now I began to scold.
WHY?, I ask
in a rumbling rage
DID YOU TAKE MY LITTLE SISTER 
AT SUCH A YOUNG AGE?
Cursing at God
in a ugly angry voice
I ask, WHY HER 
AND NOT ME AS YOUR CHOICE?
ARE YOU NOT BRAVE ENOUGH
TO TAKE ON THE WICKED 
THAT YOU PRANCE ON THE WEAK
AND PUNCH OUT HER TICKET?
SHOW ME YOUR FACE 
AND STAND STRONG AGAINST ME
SHOW ME YOUR WRATH 
IF YOU ARE ALL YOU CLAIM TO BE!
TAKE ME GOD
AND GIVE BACK MY BABY SISTER
SEND ME TO HELL
AND LET MY SKIN BLISTER!
Just as I started 
to curse him out more
Something suddenly happened
as I was knocked to the floor.
The sky began to thunder
and my cell door started to rattle
Did God finally show up
to fight this lonely battle.
Within this mist
I continued to stare
Thinking, 'He wouldn't come
He wouldn't even dare'!
Suddenly the room 
began to clear
dazed and confused
a voice I can hear!
Soft and warm
the voice said to me
Relax big brother
it's me your sister Sandy!
The voice said, "Don't be sad 
or feel any sorrow
Live your life today 
for there is always tomorrow!
Where I am at 
is full of wondrous glory
Just read your Bible
it will tell you the story!
Be calm and be there
for our mother
Be strong for sisters
and for our brothers!
I'm just fine
and singing in Gods Choir
So please don't weep 
and let your eyes tire!
God has plans
for each and everyone
For me and for you
and for all that we have done!
It's never to late
to open your heart and your eyes
You too could live in this Kingdom
of clear blue skies!
Within seconds
the cell room cleared
The vision was gone
and all that I feared.
Full of warmth
and a comfortable feeling
I surrendered to God
and started to kneeling.
These feelings I have
will never be the same
There is more to life
than this prison game.
Upon my release
and as I exit this cell
I will kindly remind myself
that I was living in Hell.
So thank you little sister
for this vision so real
Soon we will be together
and share Gods glorious will.
I have now made my peace with God
and pleased with his decision
I will gracefully thank him
and praise him for this vision.

By Edward F. Hill


Long poem by Senait Mohammed | Details |

A PERSON/ A PAPER/ A PROMISE

Once on a yellow piece of paper w/green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A & a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's &
He had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it.

Once on a piece of white paper w/blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A & asked him to
write more clearly &
His mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint & the kids told him 
that Father Tracy smoked cigars & left butts
on the pews & sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames &
The girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot &
His father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about & his
professor gave him an A & a strange steady
look & his mother never hung it on the
kitchen door because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went & he caught his
sister making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked & the girl around the corner 
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly.

Once on a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.


Long poem by Stacy Stiles | Details |

You Never Deserved Me

To the person who gave me life, nothing less, nothing more

As a child I remember being filthy and left isolated, all alone
Left at the age of seven, not knowing if you’d ever come home

Caring all alone for baby sister, while you ran endlessly all about
Feeding, bathing and taking care of her, listening to her constant shouts

Your commitment was your drugs; let’s not forget the alcohol too
Stammering in all times of the night; an addictive abusive person I 
watched you grow into

Looking back I never thought that this life was not extraordinaire
But as I matured and saw the norm; 
I realized my life was nothing but despair

Never caring for either of us, just your greedy selfish self
Shooting your heroin and drinking your booze,
Which sat upon your shelf

Taking all our money, spending it on your addictions day and night
Living off ramen noodles, our survival was an endless fight

After years of suffering from your abuse and your manipulating lies
They finally saw your negligence, taking us away ending all ties

Now we’re with our father, and his new beautiful stranger bride
Trust we cannot give to her, for all we’ve ever known has died

Time it did not take for us, to open up and see
That the new beautiful woman bound to care for us, 
Was as genuine as one could be

She opened her home and her heart and treated us as her own
She opened our eyes and broke the hard outer wall,
Never do we feel alone

She has given me more love in the past four years
Than you have your entire life-time on this earth,
It’s sad that a woman of only four years, 
was the one who taught me self-worth 

You are the woman you gave me life, 
Nothing more and nothing less
You never deserved me or my little sister
Our mom now has replaced your selfishness 

© Chelsea Leigh Stiles/Stacy Lynn Stiles

These are my daugther Chelsea's words about her biological mother. I took 
them and helped her write the poem at her request. It's very sad and the damage 
her "biological mother" has done to her and her sister is un-repairable....Chelsea 
has had to be in counseling every since we've had her and I have taught her to 
have a voice and if needed, put her thoughts down on paper.  She's absolutely 
beautiful and amazingly charismatic. She's strong and very responsible and 
dedicated...not only to our family, but to life. Both of them were "my gift from God", 
and I will cherish this gift forever.


Long Poems