Long Anyone Poems
Long Anyone Poems. Below are the most popular long Anyone by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Anyone poems by poem length and keyword.
If you were the only one in town
Jesus' life would still of been laid down
If you were the only one
God would of still sent his only son
Jesus came to set things right
Jesus came to fight the good fight
God loves us I know its true
Jesus came to rescue you
If you had been the only one
God still would of sent his only son
Jesus would of still came for you
Because of his love and God's true Amen.
Do not be afraid for I have redeemed YOU
I called YOU by YOUR name
And YOU are mine.
John 10: 11
I am the good shepherd the good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.
John 3:17
For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world but to save it Amen.
Jesus died for us all God loves us all the same,
When Jesus died on the cross he died to save the world
But also we know he died for each individual,
He died for me he died for you,
If anyone ever wonders did Jesus really die for me
I agree Yes he surely did.
My friend said I should upload this poem as didn't know if it was good or if could be taken out of context,
But they said go for it and told me that there is a song titled,
When he was on the cross I was on his mind
A song I love is called
Above all.
Its another song that speaks od individuality,
He died for each and every one
And yes includes you,
We all fall short but he came for us
One and all,
No matter who you are
If we believe
We are truly saved, Amen
Glory be to God the father for ever and ever Amen
All dreams of moving ahead
Was lying near me in my bed
Trying to start once again
Hoping this time I'll begin
To feel something more
Than my heart shutting a door
On anyone who tries to enter
There was no one who could mentor
My heart back to normal rhythm
Everybody was a victim
I never gave a second chance
For my heart to finally dance
With a song of love and kindness
Each time that I tried to find this
It would never last at all
Leaving me to always fall
Now Looking at your sleepy face
I know this is the right place
For my heart to start anew
With a brand new lover who
Will always be here by me
Bringing my life endless glee
Jelly bean warships judiciously cheering for the enemy?
The old timers do not understand this unnaturalness.
“It is an inescapable truth today,” Sgt. Mars Bar told them.
“We are all about preserving the rights of everyone else.”
Some tittering twits known as Smarties marched by at that second.
Several poked fun at the old-timers, calling them names like
“Crappy, Tired, Worn-out and Needs Energy.”
“What about our rights?” Captain Seniors asked him.
“What rights?” Sgt. Mars Bar asked. “You are invisible.
I thought you knew that. Didn’t anyone tell you?”
The youth kept screaming mean things to them,
making them realize some people could see them.
“So everyone has rights but us,” Major Oldster said slowly.
Sgt. Mars Bar nodded.
“Because we are invisible?”
“Exactly!” This was the last military exercise most of them attended.
In my dream I'd gone to the international film festival not wearing any pants. That part was okay because it was nice weather. But there was air conditioning in the theater and I kind of wished I'd worn them after all.
Then I realized my glasses were in my pants pocket, and I couldn't see the screen. I wanted to tell Rhonda we'd have to sit real close to the screen, but I couldn't find her. I walked around amidst the seats but I couldn't possibly see anyone without my glasses, and could only hope Rhonda would call out "here I am" but it never happened.
So I stood out in the lobby without my pants and half blind not knowing what to do. Slowly I became very unhappy and had the feeling I would never see Rhonda again.
On Remembrance Day . . . I lay poppies at his grave, a lonely grave among
many, the military grave of my brother. He had been a beautiful baby and
sweet little boy, oh, where did the years go- soon he was a young man; and
telling us he wanted to be a peacekeeper for Canada, and with a smile he left
on a mission to a far away distant land and a distant war. We watched scenes
of bombing and fighting and terrorists, father would say "don't worry he's a
peacekeeper." As time rolled on we accepted that was his dream, but anyone
who says peacekeepers don't die is wrong. I will never ever forget the day he
came home to us, in a box- a hero who only had peace for the world; and I will
forever be doing- an offering of poppies for this brave young man . . .
rows of white head stones
where poppies sway in the breeze-
miles of the brave dead
______________________________
April 25, 2019
Poetry/Haibun/An Offering of Poppies
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1137-528-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest Pick a Title, Vol. 4
sponsor, Edward Ibeh, Title Chosen #1, An Offering Of Poppies
Second Place
I'm sitting in my room,
thinking of myself.
Staring at the ceiling,
without a thought of anyone else.
Mind drifting away,
through the skies of the Earth.
I'm thinking of things.
"What life is really worth".
Trying to hold on
to my peace and confidence.
My mind is still drifting,
as I sit in siolence.
My heart tells me one thing,
mind tells me another,
then I say to myself,
we all need eachother.
I'm living in my own world,
eachday, as I pray,
that "God", will bless me
and let good be on his way.
"A man lying in the streets,
so bloody, and so cold,
because, another human being
took his soul.
He had a good life ahead of him,
now it's gone down the drane.
"Mother feels pain,
and Daddy went in sane".
"Sister has nightmares,
wakes up in tears,
because, daddy molest her,
and she lives in fear".
"Reality"
I used to believe
I was a good girl.
Good girls listened.
Good girls stayed quiet.
Good girls obeyed.
I tried
to be impeccable.
I held my breath
when the door opened.
I closed my eyes
very tight,
as if darkness
could protect me.
Sometimes I wished
if I stayed still enough
I could vanish.
The dark
knew my secrets
before anyone else did.
The walls
kept their silence.
When morning came
I dressed myself
in practiced normalcy.
Everyone said
I looked fine.
But something inside me
had already fractured.
And little girls
do not know
how to repair
broken things—
only how to carry them.
The sun rose red like fireballs being played
Soon as it rose clouds enveloped to stay
Sand rippled the clouds became bleak and gray
Streaks of cobalt, gray and snow white today
But the doves did coo saying I love you
Roosters, crows, chirp rip chirp rip too
At one time magenta undercoated the clouds
Giving hope where non was allowed
The rippled effect like a clam's fine shell
Touched my heart with feelings so it swelled
Such a day to be blessed with life
Why would anyone want to destroy with a knife?
All at once stillness decended, peace, love
As one vulture the sky ascended
Tranquility upon porch surrounded
I could feel its presence my heart astounded
One lone vulture returned in flight
Looking for food or just for fun_delight
The dove coos once again nesting instinct
Has settled upon him
Peace, love, joy am filled
Thank you God for my time being still___
Who has seen me
and known me can tell
that this image reflects
the image of the Lord God.
Never allow vanity
to take over your life,
make this commitment:
live for others, be their light.
When blood is shed
for a good cause,
a reward awaits
anyone who has bravely fought.
Perhaps peace
is not impossible
to achieve, even hope
can glow in very dark places.
Never listen to leaders
that promise change
when their words are shallow,
be shrewd and wise.
If the glamor of fortunes
deludes, accept humbleness
as a blessing and share
with all the little you have.
We were born to fulfill His purpose,
not to hate, kill and destroy,
but to hold each other's hand:
to love and be loved.
Only at the end of one's life,
one realizes how brief and difficult
the journey has been not having had
enough time to know and love everyone.
We spent the day at Grandpa’s house.
At bedtime, as we would often do,
By the fireplace we did rendezvous
While Grandpa stoked his corncob pipe.
When he leaned back his rocking chair
And asked with a wink of his eyes:
“Anyone like to hear a story?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” we all would then cry.
We never knew quite what he would do
Much less whatever he would say.
Some stories were gory; some sad.
Most were happy and none were bad.
From ‘neath bushy brows he scanned us.
“Want a tale of ghosts, not scary?”
We were just a little wary
And yet we said, “Yes, yes, yes!”
“Well, early one morn, Papa ghost
Came home from his favorite haunt
Where he had worked, until exhaust,
Then struggled home, a-feeling gaunt.
Well, early is late for a ghost
So, his wife and son were off to bed.
With a snack, his wife had left a note
‘Today, Junior learned his first word.
He’ll surprise you with it later!’
He ate his food; then got some more
Out of the refrigerator.
He ate until his belly swore.”
“Oh, Grandpa, you know it didn’t really!”
“Just wait until you’re his age gang.
Your stomach can give you a bang!
Anyway, Your Papa Ghost,
Cleaned up the kitchen; doused the lights
Walked upstairs like he would always do,
Then he nearly hit the ceiling
Because his ghastly son yelled, ‘Boo!’”