Load Up Poems - Poems about Load Up

A Load of Gold

A Load of Gold,

Carrying a heavy load, 
Walking down this winding road, 
A burden holding the gold, 
A treasure that I hold, 
As I am anchored in what's true, 
The weight of the world's view, 
Comes crashing over you.  
What can I really do? 
All my words carry it through, 
The other part is

Summer Winds

                         Summer Winds

Amidst strong winds, John was treading the road
Carrying on his back a heavy load,
It was a pitiful sight 
To brave the wind in such plight:
When load fell down, it

My load burdens me

Trying to keep up but the load keeps me sinking, everyday a new struggle arise, my strength fail to keep up, the demand so high, running out of breath, while on my knees trying to pray.

Dismantling blows, from every direction, all aimed at fracturing my spirit, but still hope in the unknown, comforting my struggle.

SWANA Zion Reich and Load

The cradle of three of the biggest faiths
Rocked by the claim one agenda stakes

Locked and loaded and ready for war
With righteous blessings for terror and gore

Sentiments civilities and landscapes pitted
All of human decency finally outwitted 

The Load

Life is about learning to carry our load
And weaving the threads of our path 
For, the world is so profound and broad 
And we can't build a glory out of wrath 

We must learn to be still and chill out 
For, in comfort, fairly well, we can think 
And to wipe all the shadows of

Heavy Load Poetrix

The unbearable burden
  of an empty life
an unsustainable weight

Factoring

There’s a feeling called
the drifting force
that makes you want
to shift your course
and find a better vector
on boring study nights.

They’re so many things
a girl starts missing,
like hugging, dancing
and oh, yes kissing,
when she lets a dry syllabus
control her life.

After several hours
of intensive reading,
your intuition is that
what you’re needing,
is something we’ll
politely call ‘delights’.

But you make the almost
painful choice
and

With His Six Shooter In Hand He Emptied Its Load

With His Six Shooter In Hand He Emptied Its Load


In a whiskey glazed stupor his horse he shot
Under blue-wailing moon his heart, a broken mess
And then his emotions tossed in their sad lot
Somewhere with lost hope, his failures he did confess
But as image appears, her beautiful face smiles
She, kind goddess that had stolen his lonely

Old Man With a Heavy Load

An old man plods slowly down the rutted middle
Of an ancient dusty country lane, unmindful of his steps.
His calloused sandaled feet know the way,
As he has trodden this path to market for decades,
Or centuries perhaps,
He no longer tries, or cares, to remember.
Time has lost all meaning.
Bowed beneath the heavy weight of years and toil,
He wears

Hitch the Old Mule and Load the Harvest Cart

Hitch The Old Mule And Load The Harvest Cart

Across the plains a bad ole murky mess
Unites in its quivering tears apart
And the bashful bride dares not that confess
As she knows for sure it would break his heart
Bloated bodies bend with such dusky chills
And the ill cast weather leaves what it starts
Grandpa cries, "Hon' bring me

A Load Of

Families have their own quirky sayings
That tend to continue throughout generations
Said for many emotions 
Or just in general conversation

“What  a load of Codswallop”
“Or what a load of  Cods”
A saying in my family
“Codswallop” not so odd!

It means what a load of rubbish
Though many of you may already know
I’m writing a load of Cods right

Lost Esteem

I am beginning to reckon
That to Miss Tracy I beckon
I permit to my image ruin
With the strength of the rains of June;
In the end self-esteem erode
And parts of my flesh corrode
And Miss Tracy lavishly goad
To balance on my shoulders load
I should see its rubbishy content
To delay not a vile intent…

I’m now some cycle Tracy rode,
For

Heavy Load

Mistakes have been made in life unfixable most of the time hopefully learn from.     Thoughts in your mind going over and over wondering what if I did this or what if I did that.
Still I scream, cry I'm so so worthless .          

Bored

I am feeling bored, 
Like a toad. 
Can't stop being lazy, 
When I love to be clumsy.
Guess I will just complete my work and reduce the load.

20/7/22

What a Load

I wrote an Ode to the commode
what a relief, what a load.

John G. Lawless
5/10/2022

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