Broken Record Poems - Poems about Broken Record

everlasting tune over and never over~ insult injury...

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The only lesson I have learned is that everything was meant to burn . Leaving in it’s ashes the repeating rueful record that’s always stuck on one track. Puttering out those once persistent fervent feelings . Which makes you yearn for her in your arms again. But love is just Like a record . When it’s broken you...

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I am sick of hearing, That same song. Change the record The feelings have gone. The refrain is not the same anymore, Now that you have left me, Alone, and walking out of the door. Without saying goodbye, As someone else had caught your eye. You declare your feelings for me were strong. Not strong enough, they did not last for long. I wonder if your...

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Everything you said, Was conjuring up the dead. The countless sleepless nights; Scenes running through my head, Haunted by the dead....

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My Heart Is A Broken Record Have you ever tried to play a record that was all scratched up? You place it on the player and the sound coming out is so rough The needle scratches over the groove embedded deep inside, and the music doesn’t sound the same no matter how hard you try The music starts...

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Like a broken record That keeps on skipping You keep on repeating What I've already heard So why must you repeat? Why must you bring up A mistake that I try Not to make again? I'm just doing my best To do my work to the fullest Take a little breather When an extra minute is added. So why must you keep skipping? Making the song fuzzy That it...

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Here we go again Im confused again I thought i had put everything behind me Cleared my path and and here you are again Why do we keep going back and forth Like a broken record That history recorded, Is it because its what we are A broken record That history recorded I wish i had amnesia Then i could forget you, but the heart is not...

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Everyday was like the same old song, her life methodical all along, feeling like a needle stuck in the groove, she was too comfortable to get up and move, Always dreaming of taking a few classes at college, or get a different job somewhere else, but the months and years would suddenly fly by, and she'd put her dreams on hold on...

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BROKEN RECORD by JOHN M. ARRIBAS Like a stray dog with no one to share I quietly meander hoping someone will care But that won’t happen I’ll just rail in despair I’ll just go over to Vic’s take my usual chair Some folks look at me, their disdain so easy to spot That’s the visual comment thrown at a hopeless sot They don’t know...

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An experience from long ago, He held onto, inside it made his heart cold, He never let all the bitterness go inside, With every new face these feelings he thought he could hide, Transferred emotions, he couldn't even see the abuse, The next person would pay, and he would subconciously use, Until he can come to grips to face it head...

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Scars on her wrists They never to seem to fade This will be how it is the rest of her days A broken record, Still trying to force its self to play What kind of life is this A smile on her face But secrets hidden deep If they knew their opinions would change "She's crazy" "She's a freak" "Pathetic" "Stupid" All of those things they'd say They'd...

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same with a test today similar with a challenge tomorrow identical my reaction then exactly my response now change is a bell broken down, restructured, and repainted when the jingle is heard, the reality of life kicks in like a sudden episode of nausea the realization then comes that everyday is repeat season might as well listen to the radio and whisper...

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the current malicious mouthpiece of the world’s current policeman stands behind her podium & insists to the rest of us that “Russia & China will have to pay” for the time that they have spent not going along with the empire & their buds, to overthrow yet another country under the guise of “peacemaking” so as to rebuild another grocery store for corporate america...

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My mind feels like a broken record, I keep thinking about the same old things. I feel so stuck in déjà vu, Running through the same old scenes. Day in, and day out, My mind is never empty. But sometimes I wish it was, So I could sit and think....

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Two hands in folds of shoddy cotton, in clouds of cheap champagne and cigarette smoke. My ringing ears Echoing the television murmurs, but it’s the same news on a broken record, broken record horrors. Now the clock— It’s snickering, a thief, consuming time and stealing the 217 kisses, the 32 chocolate milkshakes shared in his old Porsche, the 3 ice creams in December and...

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