Best End Of The Line Poems


Premium Member The End of the Line

When a poet reaches the end of the line
the restless hand lies idle, the ink runs dry,
watching the final rays of today's sunshine
eternally on paper, seen only once by the eye

The restless hand lies idle, the ink runs dry
captured in the moment, will last for years,
eternally on paper, seen only once by the eye 
stained by the etching of today's final tears

Captured in the moment, will last for years 
the words still followed by a lingering smile, 
stained by the etching of today's final tears 
and even if it is only for the littlest while

The words still followed by a lingering smile 
leaves just one inspired in another decade, 
and even if it is only for the littlest while 
some long lost, bygone images will never fade

Leaves just one inspired in another decade 
read by damp eyes, desperately needing refrain,
some long lost, bygone images will never fade
a handwritten epitaph, so the memories remain

Read by damp eyes, desperately needing refrain 
watching the final rays of today's sunshine, 
a handwritten epitaph, so the memories remain 
when a poet reaches the end of the line.
Form: Pantoum

Generation Z the End of the Line

No one wants love they only want likes, 
freely protesting they haven’t got rights! 

Raised by the system playing the victim, 
that’s the ambition that they envision. 

Say you’re offended by my point of view, 
offending me when you react like you do. 

Opinions upset and leave you devastated, 
you grown up babies leave me fascinated. 

People faking that they have mental illness 
surly those people must have such an illness 

People live lies just to gain your approval 
that is a skill that says you are not useful 

People who make livings posting online 
they have ambitions for income decline 

Kids think they know because they’re educated 
haven’t found out their futures overrated 

Twenty somethings think as adults they rule 
Oblivious all adults were that age before 

People are critical then hypocritical 
inviting you in just to be inhospitable 

Some people think evolution’s a given, 
then why are the youth less evolved than a gibbon!?
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The End of the Line

 the sun still shimmies up every morn
meanders down at days end

the moon fills the nights in various stages

morning streets are bombarded by struts slow and fast

cars sigh their usual obnoxious yells 

sleep eludes me
tormented thoughts 


you
occupy my psyche 
brush stroke by brush stroke
and still never exactly you

your mona lisa allure 
impossible to commit to memory 

white flag in hand 
surrender to your capture

trapped in the 
the shame of my fragility 

i hesitate 
that jump off the cliff
 
i’ve walked the burning fields 
where the smoke renders me blind 
embraced my lack of sight

too many battles spun from steel
too many scars still not heeled

how does one exit this ride
this coaster of contradictions 

i’ve found no path

A wisp of your outline
invades my sleep 

how do i let go
how do I hold on

left in your hands
how do you find my where 

if 
i 
myself

can’t find the starting line

Fri Feb 28


End of the Line

Just around the bend is the end of the line
Its there if you look for the neon sign
It's flashing in bright translucent white
Hung like a masterpiece against blackened night
Streaming, gleaming polished stars so bright

Did you know even the French horn must be drained of spit
Let it go before you reach the end of your rope
Birds sing in symphony when you awake with hope
Crickets lullaby when your eyes tire, open ears a bit & sit

Wring the rain right out of the atmosphere 
Share your boisterous laughter here and there
Do it now as surely we are all aware
Just around the bend is the end of the line
and that our gravity lives will come to cease
When hopefully we meet the true master of peace

12/7/2017
Form: Lyric

End of the Line

In poetry, I express the way I know best.
That garbage can be recycled
That burning fossil fuel kills, it's past that test
Pollution, with life it has trifled.

How many words must a poet write,
To convince all, that the world is dying
Life is at the end of the line, too late for crying!

How many miles of smiles I have walked
Gone back to find them all missing
To lectures, I've gone talked, and talked 
I don't think anyone was listening

How many words must a poet write,
To convince all, that the world is dying
Life is at the end of the line, too late for crying!

Pollution, I'm sure I've written a book, an anthology
Topics: Recycling, deforestation and fossil fuel
I've no degrees, but I've got a grade in biology.
Whats wrong with man, he should not nature duel.

How many words must a poet write,
To convince all, that the world is dying
Life is at the end of the line, too late for crying!

The end of the line, a Stephen Hawkins write
600 years all life will be gone, burned
Climate change, pollution both killing life!
Will we ever learn, NO, why have we never learned?

How many words must a poet write,
To convince all, that the world is dying
Life is at the end of the line, too late for crying!

O how I wish he is wrong, but why would he be lying
For if he's right there will be a blowing in the wind.
It's not too late, we might just stop the world dying.
Help nature to help her, the threat to life rescind. 

How many words must a poet write,
To convince all, that the world is dying
Life is at the end of the line, too late for crying!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

9th December 2017
Entered in 'End of the line-contest - Poetry Contest', sponsored by John Hamilton
Form: Lyric

The End of the Line

THE END OF THE LINE


I CAN’T LET ANYONE INTO MY WORLD NOW
AS THE UTTER DECAY OF MY SPIRIT SPREADS
I CRAWL ALONE INTO THE ABYSS OF MY OWN MAKING
LEFT TO PONDER THE REMAINDER OF MY EXISTENCE
WHAT IS LEFT FOR ME TO PROVE, HOW MUCH LEFT TO LOSE
WHEN ALL THAT I MAY HAVE NEEDED IS ALREADY GONE
AND THE FAMILY THAT I THOUGHT I KNEW I HAVE LEFT BEHIND
AND THOSE CLOSEST TO ME 
DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO I AM, 
AS I AM LEFT TO ASK, DO I?
  
WHAT I STOOD FOR, WHERE I STAND, FOUNDATIONS HAVE CRUMBLED,
AND I AM TUMBLING DOWN
THE ETERNAL FALL INTO THE NEVER-ENDING VOID
THAT IS THE REALITY OF THIS, MY WORLD NOW
THANKLESS WORLD THAT WE LOVE AND GRIEVE IN
WRETCHED WORLD I LIVE AND BREATHE IN
UNFORGIVING WORLD THAT WE BLEED AND DIE IN
AND FOR NOTHING MORE THAN ONE DAY OF MOURNING
NOTHING MORE THAN MEMORIES AND WORDS
AT THE END OF THE LINE………


End of the Line

I see a boy who doesn't fit in,
The others see a jock.

I see an unhappy boy,
taken for granted,
and tossed aside when thing get hard.
 
The others see a boy with a perfect smile,
happy in life,
and fits in with the crowd.

I see a plastered smile,
a wounded soul,
and a broken heart.

Others see a charming jokester,
loving towards what is his,
with a carefree life. 

Others can replace him, 
I want to keep him.

He does not notice me,
I wait in line,
others cut me,
all they want is the newest toy, 
I want love for him and me,
all I get is disappointment.

His sad eyes call to me,
he will look but will not see.

I am the invisible, 
the lost,
the hurt,
the lonely,
and the forgotten.
Form:

The End of the Line

When death smiled upon me, I quivered with fear 
and clung to my life as my soul disappeared 
I masked the faces of death that I’ve seen
and sounded a rattle while struggling to breath 
Laying in bed a ghost in my shell 
my tubes become chains that bind me in hell 
I've lost all control of what once came with ease 
humiliated by what everyone sees 
don’t they see misery writ on my face 
and each day of suffering held in this place 
my longing to plunge into pools of black 
to reach to the dark till it touches me back
so many have said, they don't fear to die 
yet how can they know, when they've never tried 
its now that I find who I really am 
and whether or not I’ve failed this exam 
for all it is destined, no need for concern 
for every breath, a dying is earned 
and all that we are is seen on that day 
on feet or knees when the scythe swings away
Form:

The Voice On the Other End of the Line

The voice on the other end of the line
Always seems to make me lose track of time.
We sit and talk for hours.
That’s how I know his power.
Everything around me including the clocks just fades away,
When I find myself lost in every word he has to say.
I really don’t want to fall,
But somehow I always look forward to his call.

The voice on the other end of the line
Always seems to make me lose track of time.
He makes me laugh when I want to cry.
Talking to him, I never look forward to saying goodbye.
I tell things I don’t usually tell.
Somehow I am caught in his spell.
Then when he talks dirty from his bed,
He makes me giggle and turn red.

The voice on the other end of the line
Always seems to make me lose track of time.
He is so gentle and nice.
I actually quit talking to other guys.
He scares me and pleases me.
The truth is I’m not quit sure what he sees in me.
He’s my chocolate milk god.
The one with the hot bod.

The voice on the other end of the line
Always seems to make me lose track of time.
He’s one of a kind.
He is all mine.
Form:

The End of the Line

I find it harder to even write
Day becomes dark like the night.
I try to see where happiness went
I wish to find peace and feel content.

I know if I write I shall feel better
The rain starts to fall and I get wetter.
I was hoping it would be different today
The words are not what I wish to say.

As the day lingers I hold on
I don’t look back at what is gone.
I move forward one step at a time
Sometimes it feels like the end of the line.

I head into darkness moon beams I see
Maybe I’ll do better, my mind will free.
The stars sparkle they seem so bright
Maybe tonight I shall be alright.

My mind slows and begins to relax
Sometimes I fall in between the cracks.
I always manage to pick up the pieces
I lay my head down my sorrow decreases.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member End of the Line

END OF THE LINE


Oh, I  I cry when I realized it's the end of time
Oh, I  I denies there's no peace to share none blind
Oh, I  I am surprised by the news being rendered
Oh, I  I it is patients deprived and it is surrendered

Can't stay on knees wondering my prayers are answered (it's the end of the line)
Wondering if God is really here and does He care about us (it's the end of the line)
This world is so corrupt none to trust covered in cancers (it's the end of the line)
Yet people everywhere go on being idle dancers


Oh, I  I know we are all tired
Oh, I  I should be mad as fire
Oh, I  I can be held accountable
Oh, I  I shall not be disabled

As it seems to settle down, it's the end of the line
Traveling far, far, so far away, it's the end of the line
No one left here, no one is found, it's the end of the line
People still refusing to say


Oh, I  I cry when I realized it's the end of time
Oh, I  I denies there's no peace to share none found
Oh, I  I am surprised by the news being rendered
Oh, I  I it is patients deprived and it is surrendered

Running out of parcel got no place to lay my head and...
The world is so corrupted and in need of prayer
I got my bags pack just in case I need to leave this land
So got up and left in my heart I belief no one care


Oh, I  I still believe the world gonna end soon
Oh, I  I will instill myself before the impending doom
Oh, I  I believe in the power of life must go on
Oh, I  I see the developing powers I'll be  strong

Oh, I  I cry when I realized it's the end of time
Oh, I  I deny there's no peace to share none blind
Oh, I  I am surprised by the news being rendered
Oh, I  I it is patients deprived and it is surrendered
As I come to, the end of then line

11/20/17

FOR CONTEST: END OF THE LINE
Sponsored by:  John Hamilton
Form: Lyric

Premium Member End of the Line

Myrtle's gerbil
  ~ wasn't fertile
Form: Epitaph

End of the Line

There's a purpose in the way that it goes

There's a reason why things will be fine

But we tend to only figure it out...

When we come to the end of the line


...Jeff Bresee
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member End of the Line

END OF THE LINE

I was standing at the end of the line
Waiting for an airline ticket
I just wanted to go home for the first time in five years
The line didn't seem to be moving and my patience were growing thin
So I stepped up to the counter and said to the lady with a grin
If I don't get home for Christmas
It's gonna be on your head
My Grandpa's been mighty sick of late
And before I get there he may be dead
If that should happen to me, I don't know what I'll do
Can you possibly bend the rules just a little
'Cause I'd do the same for you

The lady at the ticket counter, with a tear running down her cheek
Said give me just a minute and I'll see what I can do
I know just how you feel since I have been there too
Well the moral of this story is don't stay gone so long
Go where the family loves you and the ties are truly strong
If you humble yourself and swallow your pride
I think you will find that you won't be somewhere waiting
Standing at the end of the line
Form: Lyric

End of the Line

Some say it's fine, throwing caution to the wind.
    Some say it's fine, if you're good or may have sinned.
    Some say it's fine, giving all to ease your task.
    Some say it's fine, to help but don't wait to ask.

    You may while away each day, waiting for a call.
    Hoping for some news, about anything at all.
    Just gazing into space, or staring at the wall.
    Or just having a ball.

    12/ 16/ 2017.
Form: Lyric

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