Long And sad Poems
Long And sad Poems. Below are the most popular long And sad by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long And sad poems by poem length and keyword.
Every day there was a wrinkle
In my plans for love to sprinkle
Any kind of joy on me
Maybe my whole destiny
Was meant to be alone and sad
Never seeing how happy and glad
It would be to know the kind
Of caring all my friends find
Whenever I took a chance
To discover a romance
In the gentle arms it would
Never turn out very good
I would be left sad and crying
Another piece of my heart dying
I just wanted the kind of touch
Someone to love me so much
I would love them without doubt
I'm about to scream and shout
Till my pleas are finally heard
And I am told those 3 words
Everybody needs to hear
"I'll love you" from year to year
No more being left alone
Your heart will be finally home
As it interacts with mine
All your sorrow left behind
Little Bear parents argued about where he would hibernate this year.
He wished they would be nice to each other, this was not dear.
Since their separation, they had turned mean and sour with each other.
Seen by his cousins, aunts, uncles, and his old great grandmother.
She told his parents Little Bear's feelings were tender and sad.
His mom did not understand, was the same for his angry young dad.
Little Bear climbed up in a chair and snoozed as if it was winter break.
His grandmother said, “I am keeping him here for his emotional sake.”
For the first time his parents began to open their hearts a little bit.
They realized how much they were hurting Little Bear with each fit.
They let him snooze away his winter break in grandma’s chair.
For underneath all of their ridiculous fighting, they really did care.
Get out of my head,
Please get out of it while I rest in my bed,
I don't need anyone right now,
Your presence I can't allow,
We've already said our goodbyes,
I coated my happy one with layers of lies,
Just to let you be free,
Cause you deserve the most perfect guy out there and be happy,
I can't destroy these memories of you,
Your face I could still see clearly from my memory's point of view,
This is unfair and sad,
I think my mind's getting crazy over you again and it's getting bad,
To me you still wear that fancy white blouse,
Having that glare that emulates secrecy for which you pretend you don't need a spouse,
But with that same glare I saw someone I could love,
And I think getting over you is the hardest testament I've received from above.
If I could change one thing from the past,
This is what it would be,
There would be dancing at my wedding reception,
And we'd dance, my daddy and me.
The song that would play, "Cinderella",
About a girl who danced with her dad.
In daddy's arms he would whirl me and twirl me about,
Making my heart both happy and sad.
Happy for the joy of being his princess,
Knowing the depth of his love for me.
Sad because his little girl was a woman now,
All grown up and about to leave.
I'll never experience that dance with my dad,
The years have flown by and he's gone.
But sometimes I close my eyes and I dream,
I'm in daddy's arms whirling on.
7/16/13
Entered in Silent One's Moods contest
Write Me Sad
tension between
this singular male offspring and me dad
proved more ineradicable
then tensile strengthened steel rebar
which wall veritably, unequivocally,
terribly outlived purposefulness, egad
yet remained intact
even after this son left off
way after being a lad
din viz Harris heir,
withstood the test of time,
sans supremely
wrought impenetrable barrier
(hermetically sealing off
my pre and post pubescent self)
against mad as a red bull, who coped
by escaping to bedroom pad
wherein emotional wounds got nursed
finding me both angry and sad
forsooth wishful thinking,
where disappearance powers
increased by exponential magnitudes
by the sluggish passing hours
envisioning thyself,
absorbed by bedspread flowers
quilted manually, oh so inviting bowers
which idyllic dreamy state
shattered as heavy footsteps
up the staircase found me ire rate
what chutzpah!
No matter ma mama and papa
(two time tested battering rams) aye he quate
attempted without success
to demolish invisible, inimitable,
and impregnable fortress blockade
solely existed in my pate,
and reinforced with obelisks of iron,
when I got tubby late
into my second decade of life stricken
with a woebegone miserable fate.
Form:
You can hear the resentment in my voice
I don't wanna be mad, but I don't have a choice
I don't have thin skin – I been rubbed raw
Blessed are the meek and the sons-in-law
All that I say, you undermine
You undercut me every time
Now nuthin' that I say to my kids has any worth
Someday the sons-in-law shall inherit the earth
I try, oh I try to be an attentive husband
Try to provide for my family, best I can
Work all day, that must count for somethin'
To take my place in the back of the line of men
I say this and you say that
Well, say hello to Mr. Doormat
You can wipe your feet on me when you enter my door
Blessed are the meek and the sons-in-law
Look at us all, so desperate and sad
Having to call some dictator "Dad"
It's enough to make your sense of injustice whirl
Oh, give us your tired sons-in-law of the world
Mirror mirror on the wall
Why the hell am I fat and not tall
What I have done to make you so mad
That you reflect me back fat and sad?
Is this your idea of a funny joke?
You glimmer and smile, you sure have some guile
My reflection shows I lost my style
You have added weight so I reflect
Did you feed me the fried chicken I so regret?
I am sure its something you would do
You seem to have fun at my expense
Your laughter I see is at my expanse
I bought a hammer on sale today
Soon let’s see who’s the one who wails
I will smash your image into a million shards
You are one fat ugly reflection taking my space
Once you’re gone, there will be more grace
For me to falter in a loveless embrace
As I seek some solace in the all night buffet
As I drink some vodka, beer and wine
My belly is starting to feel very fine
Until the moment I have to pay
Above the cash I look and sway
At another mirror upon the wall
That tells me clearly I am fat and not tall
Almost Time Angel’s cloud was dingy.
Pieces were breaking off, floating into the atmosphere.
It looked wrinkly and sad, creased in places, shabby, but not chic.
A large chunk broke off last night, and floated into the ether.
It is almost time, Little Angel informed him.
Little Angel’s cloud was healthy, fluffy, pink with happiness.
There were sparkles that looked like diamonds.
She had planted brilliant red tulips at the edges.
My cloud used to look like yours he told Little Angel.
Little Angel nodded, knowing and remembering the cycle.
And one day mine will look like yours, she told him.
For it will be my turn to make the big decision.
The natural cycle of angels
Clearly shown in their clouds condition,
Shabby and pathetic brought them closer
To the Big Choice – whether or not to return to human form.
Returning to human form
Meant they could master their lessons faster
But human kind is mean. They have rape, murder, and death.
There is none of that in heaven.
However, if you choose to stay in heaven,
You spend a thousand years in the library
Reading about what you could have experienced on earth
In one little lifetime. The choices is yours.
Another earth life, so you can learn faster
or a much longer time in the library,
reading others’s accounts, and trying to
empathize with them?
Of course you get to chose your parents
based on the next life lesson you have decided to
work on. Some beat their children, but sometimes
that is part of your lesson.
Almost Time Angel fell asleep that night dreaming of a nicer cloud.
He woke up in the dark, and I mean DARK.
BAM! Bright lights! Wha! Someone smacked his bottom.
His eyes popped open and he began glaring at everyone.
It is a girl! Someone said.
Could this get any worse?
A few hours later he knew it could
When his ex-wife picked him up and said
“Say hi to your Grandma”.
So excited, I was to be going
to dance at Purdue U...
And on a blind date, too!
Aunt Angie mixed her magic hair
potion,
To turn me into a blond bombshell.
Well, at least...that was her notion.
Tragically for me, my tresses turned
out to be chartreuse green!
I wept till there were no tears left.
Then on to the train, to meet my
fate- date.
I saw my date when the train arrived,
And pulled slowly into the station..
His face turned pale white
You would, too, if your date looked
like a ghoul, from the Woodstock Nation.
No winner was he to me, either!
A short nerdy type complete with
those nerd-glasses,too!
I clearly saw my destiny, I foresaw he would not go to the dance with me.
As right as rain, the nerd-fool called
later, so overcome with a cold was he.
That at the dance, he could not be.
I sat forlorn with tree green hair!
Utterly forlorn and sad in Purdue's
Student Union!
A PH.D, as astronomer, who, like a
Knight in shining armor, came to my
heart-broken need!
Takes one interested in the stars and
God's firmament
To envision this lost poetic soul at sea.
The dance was magnificent as was my
Savior Prince.
The compounds and the elements of our
universe, aligned!
And created the most celestial night ever.
~ a true story~
5/10/2019
11:00 am PST
What am I doing here when there is no one to care, what I am doing here when you are all alone sitting over there. The days feel longer, the nights are very short and passion is locked up in the dark.
I pace back and forth on the floor searching for answers and looking for something beyond the shore but the road in front of me gets wider the hills gets higher and sweat is oozing out of my flesh.
I have this spirit of hope burning inside me and my guiding angels are walking in front of me, they are everywhere protecting me from the heat and the cold and always telling me to be bold. I have no time to dance with your wind, when you have committed a promiscuous sin; day in day out I live in the mud wondering when I will return to normal living again.
What am I doing here when your negative vibration saturates the town draining my positive energy and leading me towards an unfilled destiny?
It is painful and sad and it makes my heart rumble. And somewhere in the town the bad men are running around rubbing marijuana in the palm of their hand and puffin the smoke in the air.
What am I doing here when the unemployment figures are touching the sky and the youth are running up and down the street disrupting my heartbeat?
I lost myself in work so as not to focus on the dirt but at the end of the month, the cycle ends and a new episode begins again. I have talents and skills to tell you how the universe begins.
I have traveled to many places and mingled with many races, I have trod the earth without shoes and I have the story for the evening news, what am doing here when I have so much to share, the temple is on fire and I am filled with desire.
A new day appears with shadows flying in the air, I kept looking for the answer that is tied up somewhere in the forbidden chapter. I glanced at hope for a while with passion riding by my side and I was determined to break through the web that glued me to the bed.
With courage we marched on top of hill looking for the man in the cloud. We found him on the floor with a group of people around him preparing the final draft to make a brand-new start.
What am I doing here when you act as if you don’t care? I will be leaving here soon and I will give you a call at noon. What am I doing here!