Long Broken trust Poems
Long Broken trust Poems. Below are the most popular long Broken trust by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Broken trust poems by poem length and keyword.
The gods are online today,
Updating their laws like software patches,
Fixing glitches in heaven while we glitch on earth,
Typing commandments no one reads,
Uploading sermons no one feels.
They scroll through prayers like spam emails,
Ignore the bleeding body in the dirt,
Reward the loudest liars,
And punish the quiet truth.
In their group chats,
They laugh at those like me —
Broken ribs, broken voice, broken trust —
Another ticket closed,
Another sinner "served."
The village bows to their screens,
Worships the edits, fears the updates,
And I,
I am just a bug in their system,
Flagged for deletion because I dared defend myself.
My innocence is offline,
My pain is offline,
Only the image matters here:
The curated guilt,
The viral shame.
The gods are online —
But none of them are listening.
sure...she'd forgiven
though heart had been riven
she loved him: a given
she said, "it's Ok...
that's how the boys play.
Don't worry, I'll stay
but not again, hear? No way!"
But that broken trust
shattered by his lust
turned contentment to dust!
Forgive him, she must!
she kept it inside
could not bruise her pride
to the gossips, she lied,
but something had died
she smiled and she gave
her children to save
Acted steely and brave
must take secret to grave
But what of her dreams?
in the silence, she screams
her tears flow in streams
Can life be the same?
his infidelity has a name
there's no shame in her game
she's wild and not tame
So in shroud of the night
with no sound, and no light
With no one in sight
she slits wrists, oh so right!
the next day...what a fright!
Blood stained words that he read:
"'I forgive you', I had said
but when I'd lie in our bed
all I could see in my head
was you with her instead...
Dear...I'm better off dead!
I'm..better....off....d..e..a..d!"
Eileen Manassian
Footnote: I am NOT suggesting that someone who has been betrayed take this path. I am narrating a story of a single case. I'm sure there have been poems, songs, stories in literature of the kind. I mean no offense.
6.Konosuba: Is It Wrong for King David to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?.
My life is a psalm filled with poetic justice.
For all the giants I slew,
I still see myself in king Saul .
Consulting the dead on the self fulfilling prophecy of my falling on my sword.
Zombies accompany my harp with shrieks of Dolores O'Riordan,
As I seek to meditate on how life is a never ending war.
A short lived conquest over temptation,
A pyrrhic victory that claimed my sons.
All I'm left with are the lessons from proverbs,
The fear of God put in me, left from the boldness of youth.
Not any wiser, just sneakier.
Age bends spine when I just want to walk upright in Notre dame.
To stand up for love not having ever stood it up,
But I don't see how that is possible now.
I have gambled it away to earn myself this hatred.
I don't know where to start fixing the broken trust,
But if nothing else, believe I loved you.
If not, believe i loved you and a lot(...they really meant nothing,babe).
Holding a boom box on your front yard,
I bring the arc(k) home, dancing a fool outside you window.
"The sun loved me again, when it saw that the stars would not abandon me" Jenim Dibie...
I paint on the blue-black arms of blank skies,
with pirouetting promises in midnight eyes,
no longer impatient for the dawning of hues~
manipulating the ache between ink and muse.
I breathe in silence, wrap my soul in rhyme-less forms,
to taste topaz tears of dusk, beneath swirling storms,
as I’ve long learned to sing with wistful stars alone,
amidst the warmth, cloaked within cold-chiseled stone~
flickers of grief, now veiled by bonfire blazes,
of melancholic memories and fleeting phases,
where love and light no longer collaborate,
yet sail like astral flames of fate that life must validate…
I ponder, do nameless ghosts of the sun recall my name?
For I crave not the fickle flares, nor to take their blame.
I am kissed by the redolent rays~
of ruin and wild orchids in lilac moon’s haze,
surfing through lagoons drenched in marine dust,
fighting tilted tides mirroring broken trust…
So, let me abandon the scorching gold of sunrise~
forgive this heart, serving nothing but lyrical lies…
Some bits and pieces. Stoleness doesn't empower one to
gain material goods, financial and emotional leverages some
are disloyal—possession over someone Stoleness.
Abducted along with one's self-confidence and innermost thoughts
and deepest sentiments will be revealed for safekeeping.
Demoralized and staleness broken trust in addition to anything
so on and on, and so forth Stoleness has causes and effects,
lessons learned? intuitive conception, and conclusion that Stoleness
is forbidden.
You were my friend, at least that is what I thought,
I could not prevent my self from falling, I tried to not,
I don't know why you felt you had to lie,
Now the truth is out and causes my mind to fill with doubt,
Now, here I sit astonished at my foolish naivety,
Showing your true colors, you've lost your dignity,
You threw away respect, this you can not undo,
Severely disappointing is the best I can say about you,
I thought you were a better man not just a flake,
Beguiled I was, like so many others you're just a fake,
Now I can relate to the hollow, solitary tree,
the one among-st the emerald sea, engraved in my memory,
to still be surrounded by life and beauty yet mar it so vividly,
My love was given easily and never taken away,
Yet it was not my love, but my trust you did betray.
Reap what you sow, in time you'll receive your due,
Just remember in your solitude...
what you did...
when some one truly loved you.
*I wrote this many years ago.*
"Black Ice"
Sorrow flows from the first sunrise
Eyes deeper than winter and rainfall
A painful combination never felt before
At core death awaits
- laughing while she begs for clemency!
In her eyes, fault is found in every sunset
- after coming down from cloud nine.
Impossible to move --- her body stiffen
That very moment, a precious Waltz - Expires!
Coldplay and winter mist set in
Ruins of love clinch an endless echo
- taunting the very merry memory.
The auditory sensation of broken trust
- stride across the way.
Icing every thought in a sullen, cold rink.
She fell - She crumbled
- In a world where hope once existed
Today, she will sway alone without a lullaby
In a room with no warmth
One time a sweet symphony, now a sour moon
At last, a different tune begins to fiddle
As she grooms the icicles in her room.
On every mid-moon, she stares and stares
towards the old shriveled lipstick on his pillow
Unseen coldness, unsatisfied, incomplete tears
She can feel the complete braille of hate
--- cascade around the emptiness
Throughout her poise frostbite travels in
Midnight Summer dreams are near an end
Autumn bones covered by winter sleet
A deadly force condemns all because of one
Lost years crumbled like an avalanche
Way deep down inside.......
She paints the rain like no other heartache
Leaving winter residue behind every step
"Black Ice" sits close to the cold canvas on her pale
If you seek closely, she is there
Immobilized in a waltz, in a waltz, in a waltz
Never to linger or trust
The "HE" that spoke of love, then melted away
~*~
The rage of a Father
held a razor strap swung without mercy
on the tender flesh of his five-year-old son
balled up on the cold kitchen floor
of torn linoleum
covered in warm drops of water
from frightened eyes of innocence
Each lash struck turned the flesh bright red
causing his back and legs to well up
The broken trust between a father and son
will never return, cruelty brings its own stain
not to be forgiven
The soul shattered, branded for life
from anger and insanity
will leave a cold separation with humanity
a deep shade of mistrust and sorrow
from a father who left the numb body of his son
lying in a pool of shapeless tears
that will never dry
6/19/21 contest The Shape of Water
sponsor Craig Cornish
Wide the mirrored water stretched,
licking green upon the pointed pines, limbs sweeping low and cool.
The creek meandered, soft giggles escaping mossy rocks
where polliwogs swam, nearly, but not quite frogs, still sporting pubescent tails;
the adults pontificating against the shallow bank,
throats swollen with amphibious wisdom.
Soft brown mud squished, a buttered cream,
between summer toasted toes wading into wonder.
Fragrant evening campfires heightened hungers,
supper roasting over charred coals flavored
the stirrings of a tempting crush on a boy much older;
this girl just barely navigating puberty's powerful push,
his smile extracting heightened pulse, blush brushed.
Life's long summer slipped slowly away
and autumn found his wife and child laying him down,
the plot unknown, unmarked by me;
yet, painful, still, the memory of broken trust,
of love-crust pitched to a not quite woman
deep in the rusting woods of Timberland.
Copyright, February 14, 2016
I still remember saying no—
soft at first, then sharp and slow—
while you ignored the undertow
and chose to stay, not let me go.
My body tensed, my voice turned thin,
a quiet war beneath my skin;
I said stop, but you leaned in—
as if my “no” meant discipline.
I was hurting, you were there,
but you moved like you didn’t care;
like you heard me, knew my fear,
and decided not to hear.
Pain spoke loud where I went numb,
thoughts went still, my mind undone;
all I felt was what you’d become—
a weight, a force I couldn’t outrun.
I wanted out, I needed air,
to break the grip, escape you there;
I screamed until it split the air—
and only then did you seem to care.
Too late to fix what you had done,
too late to say it wasn’t wrong;
I couldn’t name it, couldn’t run
from something buried all along.
Because you didn’t just take skin,
you worked your way beneath, within;
you planted love, disguised as sin,
and let confusion settle in.
I drank the dream you gave to me,
a false, intoxicating plea;
I wore your truth so willingly
I couldn’t see what I couldn’t see.
So I never called it what it was,
never spoke the word because
love had blurred the lines it does—
I trusted you, and that was enough.
The love I had became a blind,
a veil you pulled across my mind;
I thought your heart was intertwined
with mine in ways that heal, not bind.
I thought you’d save me, lift me high,
be gentle hands, a safer sky;
instead you taught me how to die
in quiet ways that don’t ask why.
Sweet at first, then turning cold,
a story dark, a lie retold;
you fed me poison tipped in gold—
and watched it slowly take its hold.
No hero standing in the end,
no savior, lover, guide, or friend;
just broken trust I couldn’t mend,
and truth I had to comprehend.
You wore a mask I couldn’t see,
a careful, crafted decency—
but underneath, so vividly,
you were the devil
disguised to me.