Long Bloodies Poems
Long Bloodies Poems. Below are the most popular long Bloodies by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bloodies poems by poem length and keyword.
“Honor”
I don’t get it
I just don’t get it.
Why, men are this way.
Why they order death,
And curse their own.
Why they seek vengeance
For those opposed.
Pardon those who’ve wronged our soul?
What makes a man this way?
What is this need?
For what is the reason?
I understand
How anger corrupts the soul,
Turns it into coal.
I understand
How need turns into greed,
Yet, never satisfies.
I understand
How vengeance reaps,
And bloodies our sheets.
I understand
The call to forgive
Yet, these are not forgivable deeds.
Who are these men?
Who kill boys
In boats awash at sea.
Who are these men
Who rob the poor,
And shut their doors?
Who are these men
Who stormed our walls,
Cursing our laws?
Do they not know,
Our destined role,
What they have done?
Should I have to ask?
Where their Honor lies?
Adrift at sea, without a shore?
Do we no longer believe?
Do we no longer know,
This sacred word?
My cheeks are flushed.
My eyes runneth over.
My mind torn.
I don’t understand,
I speak to you.
To you, our men of greatness.
Have you none?
I don’t understand.
Have you not sold
Our bodies, minds, and souls,
To sailors, drunk from the sea?
I don’t understand?
In what harbor do you sleep?
I don’t understand.
I just don’t understand.
Where your Honor lies.
2/12/2026
suddenly the beauty fades
and the masquerade becomes a crimson deluge
somewhere out of nowhere, incoherence reveals her uglier side
the stone soup of badly timed revelation is pure poison
the rocks thrown at my routine dream bloodies the strength of the center and blockades the solidity of my little world
suddenly enough is a microorganism growing impatient via the knowledge within the maturation
i become a victim of your black confetti surprise party
i want you to taste the bloody black jello of my misery
however you get the flavor of my personal version of icy cold detachment
all the ladders are now worn and badly damage
all the attics are infested and offend with the stench of incompleteness and indecisiveness
suddenly my brain goes in circles in endless speeds like a defiant spinning top
i wish i could give my own brain a hassan chop
maybe then all sense within me will finally come together
however my journey will still never really have a true blue definition