Best Guilt Trip Poems
When they do not get their own way,
They'll throw up the past of yesterday,
The guilt trip of the abortion sway.
When they do not get their own way,
They'll throw up the past of yesterday,
The guilt trip of the abortion sway.
Over there a hazy shape is making my flesh creep
A pound of darkness that appears from the deep
In the next room my young children are asleep
The shadow seems a stinky weirdo, it begins to flip
A case of a boozy husband and it's his guilt trip.
The Guilt Trip
When I was young I had bad acne & would often skip school
Every time I looked in the mirror I would always see someone ugly
Sadness broke my heart in two then the loneliness set in
Now where do I even begin to think that it wasn't me
The accuser of the brethren struck me deep to the heart that would light
A flame that would stir inside the fragile imagination of my brain
With tempers of fire through family & friends
Shelter lies dormant amidst it's beckoning plow
Shadows plunged in mere desolation getting lost
On a trip on some far away vacation prone to desolation
Perhaps this was how Kurt Cobain felt before he ended it all
Satan has a way of disguising some bad by presenting it as being good
Another day in the hood falling for the guilt trip out of step
Now you will do as you are told until the rights to you are sold
One day I would soar like an eagle to the land of never more
The next I would run off to help settle an even score
When the devil is knocking at your heart's door have Jesus open the other side
We have no good reason by which to run away and hide cause
In the end we overcame Satan by the blood of the lamb you all understand
There is a single line being drawn in the sand let's cooperate with the plan
God's love for us is the eternal constant amidst the insecurities of your daily walk with him !
My eyes watered so heavily
To the music sounding so heavenly
I’m the perfect state of mind
To cry at every sound
This time around
What’s sad is the wreckage is falling apart
Pretty soon it’ll all be gone
What’s hurting is knowing memories can be false
The world is leaving me to decide
What’s real in my head and what’s not
But what’s upsetting
Is now I know how to trust myself
Pacing on a darkened street
In the saddest place in my mind,
Wishing I was holding your hand
Screaming “we could be heroes!”
Up at the sky,
Hoping our creator would be wide awake and listening
Wrestling with the thought of something so distressing
It makes me wonder
How this thought could’ve single-handedly shaped my mind
But I’m also thankful
For all the useful pearls of wisdom
That came rushing through my mind
To distract myself
From that one distressing thought
Screaming “we could be heroes!”
up at the sky
Hoping whatever’s out there would be wide awake and listening
Are you listening?
Are you listening?
As i’ve tried,
To say this a thousand times
Are you listening?
Are you aware that i’ve tried
To say this to you a thousand times?
You could be the best listener of anyone in this world
But maybe you already are
What if I worked to be the best listener
Of anyone on this earth?
And I could ask for you to guide me on my journey,
But maybe you already are
old man
receives guilt trip
succumbs