Best Weary Poems
Decisions good, decisions bad
Either way it's happy or sad
Losing a job, or losing a friend
It's hidden but stays until the end.
Life's challenges are not really fair
Leaving our hearts in pieces, our minds in the air
Many find it true, to be extremely hard
Life's a game, choose your next card
Decisions that are like a two edged sword
Can leave you speechless, not saying a word
My heart has been shot, not one time, but eight
And still I have no remorse, anger or hate
How can it be? I be treated so bad
And not be angry at the cruelty I've been had
It's just a curse to many and a blessing to some
They say, "In the long-run, your happiness will come."
No matter stay high, just take every blow
Don't count back the days, weeks or years ago
That your heart was pieces and now it's been lost
No matter the feeling, it's not worth the cost
Many times you hear, "It happens to most."
But do they not understand, what matters to me most?
Just having an arm, wrap around me at night
Someone to cherish, in my heart so tight
At several times, I've turned to isolation
But all it brings is love deprivation
Sleeping at night, laying there all alone
It's a child at age 5, when no one's at home
I hold it together, and think of the past
And the friends from the Navy that will forever last
I think of the future and where I will be
On a ship or a boat, set sailing and free
But I can pretend it doesn't hurt and not show it at all
Only some people can read me, the signs, so small
They see pain in my eyes and no heart on my sleeve
They try to relax me, they do it with ease
So this is my story for so many ears
This is how my life's been for so many years
Not just with my heart, but with my mind and soul
After the Navy, the hurt doesn't get old.....
Cold the winter night as snow fell,
it drifted- collected on streets;
where a meandering lost girl struggled to walk,
weary and tired;
she ran away when it was warm,
when she had some money.
Now- had no shelter or money,
the wild frigid wind blew and blew;
when she could no longer walk she lay down in snow,
weary and tired;
down she sank into the soft snow,
a man knelt beside her.
He picked her up in his strong arms,
she woke up with a warm blanket;
he gave her food, a bath and nice clothes to put on,
weary and tired;
she just followed his instructions,
how to give a massage.
The massage parlor was a front,
it was really a bawdy house;
a brothel- she felt tarnished and stained forever,
weary and tired;
the things she did were disgusting,
often had a black eye.
He gave her some drugs by needle,
so she would be like a zombie;
she lay down on the dirty floor and closed her eyes,
weary and tired;
the police raided in a sweep,
found her dead on the floor.
They closed the place down, busted all,
the doors were padlocked- was shutdown;
the police never identified the dead girl,
weary and tired;
was buried in an unmarked grave,
just another lost girl.
_______________________
February 12, 2021
Poetry/Verse/Weary and Tired
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1328-100-12
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, They Closed The Brothel
sponsor, Kai Michael Newmann, Judged 03/05/2021
First Place
Silent night, weary night
Worked all day, worked all night
Worked at baking and wrapping of gifts
Hoping the family wont get in a rift
Ohhh and where is the fruit cake
and by gosh now who spiked the nog
Silent night, weary night
House to clean, the cake has a lean
All of the stockings now hung in a row
I think the cat just swallowed a bow
Oh I forgot batteries
Thank God 7-11 won’t close
Silent night, weary night
Family is gathered
The paper is scattered
I still have three more gifts now to build
No understanding the instructions will yield
Oh but these are the good times
I keep repeating this in my mind
I was a musketeer
Fighting to save a dying land
Soldier with a heart
Hate never disappeared
As greed and waste were in command
Tearing it apart
Armed with a sword of words
Choosing my battles, carefully
Fighting against the odds
Futility's absurd
Sheathing my sword only to flee
Left it up to God
I became a wanderer
Searching for peace, looking here and there
If only peace of mind
A lifelong ponderer
Not understanding lack of care
The world is so unkind
In a state of disbelief
That people live so unconcerned
Turning treasure, into trash
Our time's so brief
Apparently, we'll never learn
Hell burns hot with cash
I was a troubadour
Sang songs of happiness and pain
Accompanied by the wind
But mostly went ignored
As the masses rode their gravy train
On tracks of vain pretend
Hitching from town to town
No lust for pockets filled with gold
Simply moving on
Fall leaves are turning brown
My days grow short and nights are cold
Summer all but gone
I'm a weary traveler
My life spent in a time machine
Powered by the sun
A map unraveler
And every road a different dream
Sleeping on the run
Sometimes the sky would gray
I danced around the lightning strikes
No time to take a rest
Shelter would come my way
Takin' in by ladies of the night
Ease my loneliness
But I can not sleep
original song lyrics by the "Poemdog" Daniel Turner
Oh, I
I will
I will try and do my best;
While allowing God to do the best;
He's my provider;
And my guider,
He's better to me than I've been to myself;
The Lord came to me in a vision and He said;
"Wayward brother(sister) don't you worry your self;
And don't you wonder and fall while you wait;
The things you're going through, in the long run shall make you strong and great;
for I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint;
Please allow me to call all, let's not wait;
I AM the GREAT AND ALL I AM;
Don't you be late;
My angels beacon you all at heavens gate;
And once and for all you'll receive the call;
Open your heart and let's relate."
For I will
For I will
I will refresh the weary and satisfy
satisfy
I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint;
My child shall await your appointed time;
And then, only then I'll see you at heavens gate;
Now I know that you maybe only;
Only, trying to right those wrongs you've done;
But it's now or never leave those things;
Those bad choice decisions alone;
And I will come into the body;
and not just to satisfy the soul;
Just wanna let you know
I will cleanse you of all injustices and leave you whole;
whole
I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint;
I will never leave you or call you inadequate;
I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint
forevermore
(Derided from Jeremiah 31:25 )
Written by James Edward Lee Sr July 31 2007(c)
(From "More Than An Apple Tree")
I can see you through your hell.
Heaven doth mock you until you spill.
Just like old friends,
Hand in hand,
We bled.
Tame the shrew,
Untouched by filth
And rob her as she shrills.
All the while,
I’m spiraling
A disease that makes everything unwell,
Smiling through the kinks,
You undyingly dwell.
What’s an angel to do
When no one can love you?
Why does it have to be this way?
Clouds pass thee hence,
Dark neighboring expense;
Why are you this way?
Master you will...
Pay me through your blood lead dense.
Does it weigh you down today?
You’ll find a perfect place to go
Where you can die.
Ash torn ember will be your grave.
Judgment hath remembered how far you’ve gone,
A distance,
Unwarily unsought,
Somberly carried;
It’s with one last message I leave you….
Suffer and weary.
.
Life Weary, So Hungry I Could Eat A Dry Bone
Trekking through fire breathing desert, yes all alone
Mouth full of sand, shattered heart so heavy too
Life weary, so hungry I could eat a dry bone
Looking back at this life, where were the breaks my due
I recall all hellacious bad times that came
The motorcycle wreck when I was but fifteen!
All those shots that should have given me greater fame
Those barroom brawls, man that one dude was so damn mean
I laughed, I ran full amok, a bit crazy
I cried like a baby when they shot down Dean
I raised hell doing farmwork but was not lazy
School was a blast but math work I wasnt too keen.
Trekking through fire breathing desert, yes all alone.
Life weary, so hungry I could eat a dry bone one.
Mouth full of sand, shattered heart so heavy too
Looking back at this life, where were the breaks my due.
Robert J. Lindley, 6-08-2023
16 VERSE SONNET , WITH 12 SYLLABLES
EACH VERSE
Note_
My life in my youth was anything but dull.
I worked as a club bouncer, farmhand, factory working manager 4 times, carpenter, roofer, bricklayer, metal fabricator, even worked at a car repair once.
O, weary traveler, tossed ashore by fate
Despair not, though long has been the wait
Finding yourself hurled back to the very start
Wisdom is simply nevermore to depart
My tired weary eyes
hold burdens yet unheard of
as life keeps going
The snow white blanket glistening
so brightly all around
has grown so very tired
as the winter's winding down.
Oh how we long for Springtimes' sun
to smile about the place
to melt the weary winter snow
and wash its' dirty face.
But when the old and forlorn snow
has melted we shall find
we'll curse all of the Springtime mud
that it will leave behind.
This was inspired by Moggie, the woman I was aid
and companion to, when she was commenting on
the dirty snow and said someone should write a
poem about it. I wrote this for her and I wanted to
share this with you. RG
A Partridge perched upon a tree
entices him to throw something!
When songbirds sing and flap their wings
two turtle doves, cause headache pain.
Those mocking words, thread-worn with wear.
remind him of the dollars spent.
Defeat caves in, ... the thought of debt!
He bends his head to shield his face,
and steps upon the curb, to brace
against the mob, against the throng,
against long lines in shopping malls
He watches herds with purses out,
who attack the narrow aisles and park.
Chagrins at purpose, poised, embarked
They're mad! They charge like Joans of Arc!
No one pays him time of day
He feels the sting of frostbit cheer
and leans beneath the canopy
The sales are lit, with half-price tease
and gaggled geese attack with glee!
Pure instinct guides, their goal is keen
Gifts supreme, they seek and find!
He wonders, as they claim their prize,
if what they buy, and dollars leaked
will gratify their kin, divined?
With weighty burdens in their hands
and dollars spent from sun to sun,
he waits until his wife is done.
This madness took her far away
within the glass enclosed array
of Jingle Bells and money spilled,
of trinkets, socks and Visa bills
His feet are sore, a wrinkled coat,
unruly hair,... it glistens now,
With cheeks of red, he steels his breath.
Forefathers did, before their death!
Entrenched in snow beneath his feet,
his stomach growls, he begs to quit
He watches from the window glass.
A check-out line!! She's close!!! ...... At last!!
She's almost done, her purchase won!!
She grins as if she's fetched the best!
The smile she wears, he catches fast
And makes it worth the weary quest!
Weary, I am weary of traveling life;
this suitcase, the home I carry like a shell -
barstools, my buddies; a typewriter, my wife.
I want to settle, forsake this hotel hell,
buy my last airline ticket and throw away
this suitcase, the home I carry like a shell.
This great war keeps me writing news to dismay,
soldiers' stories hard to portray; I want to
buy my last airline ticket and throw away
all the harsh reminders, hurry home to you,
let pink stained cigarettes kiss mine in the tray.
Soldiers stories, hard to portray, I have to
forget; with you build a lovers' hideaway,
return this lonely, golden earring you gave,
let pink stained cigarettes kiss mine in the tray.
I must return to shores where freedom's flags wave,
return this lonely golden earring you gave.
Weary I am weary of traveling life -
bar stools, my buddies; a typewriter, my wife.
Copyright, November 19, 2014
I would walk on, and leave it all be-
Hind: will walk on; and when my feet grow
Sore, the boatman waits—his sails are all
Unfurled—he waits to row me to a
Fairer shore. My tired limbs shall rest on
Beds of down, my tears shall all be wiped
By Jesus’ hand; my soul shall know the
Peace it long hath sought—a peace too
Wonderful—ever to understand
On a moonlit night,, as I was on a search
An this old weary owl, flew down to perch
Startled, I became a statue, perfectly still
Cast in stone, as I had lost all my free will
My eyes fixed, I saw his and they intrigued
What words he might speak, if not fatigued
This Silence was broken, he spoke as a man
Saying "I'm am nothing to fear", as he began
As I have searched this earth, many a night
For the rats that folly, when the moon is bright
Instead, I see you, a women, creator of life
What is it you search for or are you in flight
Can the hollow feeling inside, from a past strife
Be filled by earths beauty, in the moonlight
You see twilight, in darkness, your hope is alive
Joy again will fill your heart, your baby will thrive
You see it isn't the moon, it's a morning sunrise
Wisdom discerns truth, as knowledge comes alive
As I search darkness, wisdom protects me from strife
Let a wise old owls knowledge, assist you in life
inspired by painting " The owl and the ***** cat"
The Weary Soldier
Are you marching mighty soldier
or have you fallen by the way,
there is a mighty battle coming
just before the Judgment Day.
So pick up your armor so dusty
and once again for Him take your stand,
He hasn’t left you, no not for a moment
but is watching to see if you’ll call upon Him.
A soldier’s job is never done
because wars continually rage,
and the greatest battle is set just before us
the signs in the heavens have just set the stage.
Now, my brother, call upon Him
and with patience run this your race,
for it won’t be long weary soldier,
before we see our Savior’s face.
Written by: Marilyn SW. Jennings
June 23, 1994 - copy written