Best Pessimistic Poems
Whilst the pessimist persists
to resist the positive...
The optimist insists
to dismiss the negative.
Corona has...
conquered
hearts of
people.
And
those,
with
pessi-
mistic
thoughts are
gonna conceal...
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
their While, people
Parts with opti- mistic
With thoughts are gonna
Gloves move around
and with self-assurance,
Masks faith and
to per- hope to
form regain
their their lock-
tasks. down loss.
2-5-2020
~DEEPA~
Disclaimer: Read continuously as C-19
(start with C,move on to 1 and then 9).
Love is
the morning dew...
lurking, looming
effervescent
enigmatic
...burned
...gone
We hate one another.
We can't get together.
We know it's better to be friends,
But we just don't even bother.
Our turmoil is so intense.
It's at the end of our tether.
All the King's Horses
And all the King's Men
Couldn't get us together.
Oh, no, it's over. Why bother?
"It's 5 am in the morning,
And I just can't stop thinking,
As I wait here, my anxiety continues to build up,
And the more I just sit and think, it's just gets even more tough,
Thinking about the decisions I've made, and continue to make,
That have lead, or will only lead to more pain and heartbreak,
I've tried thinking positive, and holding out hope,
Because it's the only I know how to cope,
But lately, doing that even feels like it's not enough,
For it feels like the whole world is watching me, and screaming at me to give up,
But I continue to move forward, and fight, every single battle of every single day anyway,
Even it doesn't help with taking the pain away,
Maybe there is some hope, in this little heart and mind of mine,
But that hope slowly fades away, with the passage of time,
And I guess at this point, all I can really do is to prepare myself, for what's coming soon,
Which is either my breakthrough to success, or my enevitable doom,"
- Wallace Shane
Why are humans so,
Pessimistic and rude.
Can't get out of it...
There is nothing I would not do to assuage
all in you slipping deprived and love awry.
I focus my wishes to diminish your anguish,
to remind you of our perfect designed kisses;
their puckery allure secured our lover’s map
and tapped our wants to ever stay like that.
As a thief, your pessimism slowly robs all
that only tomorrow’s motive may absolve.
Please think of time's appetency to prove
atrocious growls and fussy scowls reduce
to absolutely no substantially lived truth.
I want more romantic years of auspicious
sunrises that entwine you with optimistic.
People who want misery
will find it in everything
An angel becomes the devil
The flower wilts
A cloud blocks the shining sun
Angry people pick fights with you
pretending it's themselves
Don't be your own
Worst
Enemy.
If it wasn't for the pessimist
What would the optimist do
They'd have no earthly idea
What was needed to pull through
Or the gravity of the situation
And how to handle it best
Without the negative of the pessimist
What would fill the optimists head
Without the doom and gloom of the pessimist
Positive would be a lost cause
My best guess is that the optimist
Needs the pessimist after all
I go in for chemo session #2 tomorrow. I sure hope my blood platelets are
somewhat back to normal or at least healthy enough so that we can get this next
session under our belt. As for the poem – OK, I admit it – I do exaggerate a little
when it comes to some of my poems. But if you know Pat (my wife) (and you really
should as she is the better half) than you know I don’t exaggerate all that much
when it comes to her thinking. She worries about everything while I laugh
everything off. That’s why we make such a good couple all these 40 years.
Mike
My Pessimistic Wife
My pessimistic wife
Wants to put me in a bubble
With my platelet count the way it is
She’s predicting naught but trouble
She took away my razor
She’s hidden my nail clippers
She won’t let me go barefoot
She doesn’t trust my slippers
I think she’s thinking steel toes
And a suit of armor suit
A helmet for my head then
A place where I’ll take root
The roses – no, the whole outside
She considers them quite deadly
If I should prick my finger
Will I become a dead me?
With Band-Aids in her pockets
She’s watching like a hawk
Points out all the obstacles
Each time I stand to walk
She’s probably thinking padding
For my elbows and my knees
I can’t take much more of this
Won’t someone stop her please?
Sure my platelet count is down some
But barely under par
I’m not a hemophilic
Nothings gone that far
I’d have to nick an artery
For there to be a geyser
Someone needs to sit her down
Talk to her – advise her
I know that her intentions
Are as noble as can be
But this all day long attention
Will be the death of me
Mdailey 5/26/11
A promise is the greatest lie ever told
Deconstructed fibs have fooled so many
Nobody cares for the truth when a lie is more interesting
Breaking down our judgement with each lie we consume
Who can be trusted with the truth?
Despair arises after the promise is not for filled
We have been poisoned my friend
Sweet talk me with the truth,
for a promise is nothing more than a great lie
The plot thickens.......
I notice what I desire to see,
sometimes it's the void and not the whole.
Other days it is hard to decree,
what I glimpse as I look through the hole.
~Johnnymac
I am almost to an end;
I feel so exhausted and empty.
My heart wants to forget;
I want to take a rest.
Fortunate are those who lay in the fields of asphodels;
For, they never see.
For, they never feel;
The chaos of life.
When you find comfort in death;
It seeks you to forget the bitterness of life.
The new life in death is calling;
I am, I am coming..
Because I am almost to an end!
Stress creates a picture of sadness,
Taking away the smile and gladness.
It Wants Me Broken
like shattered glass
Living in the darkness
of an unforgotten past
Sadness and Sorrow
etched upon my face
My shoulders sagging
every step misplaced
Lost with no Direction
blinded by my own fear
Screaming inside my head
no one else can hear
The Silence of my secrets
has finally beat me down
The world has become a circus,
and I'm it's sadist clown