Long Brokenhearted Poems
Long Brokenhearted Poems. Below are the most popular long Brokenhearted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Brokenhearted poems by poem length and keyword.
Listen
Listen to my ugly words
as they scratch upon your eyes
Searching for the truth in my world of lies
Beauty springing tears from this false facade
Love hidden in the hearts
of the brokenhearted
Spitting thoughts from within
to ease the congestion
Sickly slick i take a trip
Trying to lie to cover future lies
Forensically analyse my evasive murder
and accuse the accusations
Your world has broke my all
No one left to call
Upon the traces damning my existence
Listen just beyond my words
No silence in the pauses
Another joins my chorus
As we stand alone and sing
such similar verses
underneath the curses
Death has released your soul upon this sad eve,
and there is nothing that I can do but grieve.
As a dying sun sets.
A trickle of tears has morphed into a flood,
and my heart shrivels, as though drained of its blood.
As painful as it gets.
And the fabric of my life starts to unweave,
confronting a truth I don't want to believe.
As chills turn into sweats.
I have not come to grips with the pain I feel,
clinging to the belief your death isn't real.
Life has no safety nets.
Slipping into dreams that you frequently haunt,
I can cuddle with you as long as I want.
My dreams hold no regrets.
Without you, a scarlet sunset seems mundane,
Nature's spectacle has been reduced to plain.
Brokenhearted sunsets.
Empty words take the place of what I'd say;
I'm at a point of complete silence.
Under Carolina skies, cloudy and gray,
As these thoughts turn inside my head.
I'm not brokenhearted, nor do tears fall;
Can't believe what I've done more or less.
What I thought was love wasn't love at all;
Thrill is nostalgic and sinful, I guess.
Yeah, I do and don't like mistakes;
Who would hate a good adventure?
The ugly beauty of escapades,
Especially, when it was her.
So now is the time to move on,
And go make better of ourselves.
We've conquered the things that were wrong,
Leaving behind our stories to tell.
Why is it that when we are so hurt
we when can create the most beautiful masterpieces?
How we dream of being happy
but find complacencies and deny,
even ignore a need for an outlet?
Perhaps, I have never experienced a true level of pure bliss
A level where talent streams out of me
birthing a prized gem
I am so thankful for my creative escape, away from suffering
But I must admit it is ironic;
that it pours out of me in my most emotionally agonizing moments
I can only imagine, the amazing days when joy can have a volcanic effect
of bubbling and oozing
shooting up with a delight that streams off my pen to the paper
To physically be beaming as I create and compose my inner euphoria
in a paradisiacal state of mind
What heavenly words would my lips express through the incandescent smile fixed upon my overjoyed face?
With tears of elation gushing down my cheeks, splattering on my paper,
in place of the too familiar brokenhearted current ones
Would they taste different?
Perhaps my taste buds would savor the flavor of prosperity
So much sweeter than the salty ones I'm used to
One day I hope to know
I long to know how a full, adored heart feels in my chest as it beats
I bet it is much different than the empty, shallow flicker
I wonder if a rhythm of the pulse, with a healed heart sounds cheerful?
Like a favorite song that happily gets stuck in your head
I think it must sound loud and proud
as if it wanted to show off how whole,
completely filled with enthusiasm for daily life it is!
Yet for now, I can only pretend to know
I will keep imagining, trying to harness it
Until I am there
Then I will know with out question
I am the dark
Pigment in grey
I am the nail that binds the culms
Of our Bamboo bridge
I am the cement
That makes up the walls
Of the brokenhearted
But seeing me thru' your eye
I am nothing more than the rope
Hanging to your ceiling
For your suicidal ideation
You made me the worse
Oh yeah
I don't blame you
'Cos medicine kills people
And it also heals
It's just how your use it...
#ahroom
#thePoeticles
©2020
Isn’t it time? (to get over)
I can see that you’re brokenhearted…
and, you’re still thinking of him
I’ve been hoping you’ll notice me…
although the chances are slim.
Why can’t you give yourself a break…
and go out and have some fun
I know the pain will slowly vanish…
if you go out with someone
I wish you could see me here,
trying to get through to you
Sometimes, it’s good to throw out the old,
and, start something new
Is there anything I can say, or do,
to help you to get through this?
Sometimes, if we distract the mind,
we won’t think of what we miss
Chorus
Isn’t it time to get over, all that’s troubling you
I am here and I know, how you feel…
‘cause I’ve been through it too
Isn’t it time, to get over all that you’ve been through
Don’t worry baby, I’ve got all the time (that it takes),
and I’ll wait for you.
Another hollow day passes by…
and another silent night,
If you could only see me here…
I could make it feel alright
Don’t you know that in love sometimes…
we can get a second chance?
All we have to do, is open our hearts…
unlock the doors to romance.
Chorus
Isn’t it time to get over, all that hurts inside
‘cause I am here, and I can show you how…
to cast your fears aside
Isn’t it time, to get over all that you’ve been through
Don’t worry baby, I’ve got all the time( that it takes),
and I’ll wait for you.
I went by your house today…
and you gave me a big smile
It was all that I needed to see…
I haven’t seen it for a while
I can’t believe you noticed me…
you’re so out of my league
I’m flying so high right now,
just knowing that you’re intrigued
Chorus
You see it’s time to get over, all the troubled past
And you see me here, and I can show you how (long),
true love can last.
You see it’s time, to get over all that you’ve been through
Now I thank you girl ‘cause you’ve been worth the wait
It’s time for love, to start anew.
Repeat chorus and fade
John Derek Hamilton
June 23,2018
alone the widow seeks autumn ground
stray thoughts both beautiful profound
a rendezvous with soul’s despair
while skittish fingers curl locks of hair
it’s death’s treachery tore us apart
in silence strung my heavy heart
dangled dubiously by a lone thread
while birds of prey hovered overhead
they circled a drab once spring green park
till nightfall drenched it in foul sullen dark
bitter feelings of abandon ever fathomless
left me brokenhearted and frightly breathless
AP: 1st place 2020
Submitted on February 20, 2020 for contest WRITING PROMPT – TEN WORDS sponsored by DEAR HEART - RANKED 1ST
Once, he wore the smile of a happy man
but now that seems so out of place
on the foolish facade of a circus clown
who stood on his head to draw on his face.
His life had been turned upside down.
What tragedy has filled him with dread,
this man, who paints a silly grin on his lips
and cries just to prove he's not dead?
Tears of a clown
With a dismal fate and cannot come to grips.
Life is an act, and he plays his part well
but hiding behind the cheerful mask
are the eyes of a brokenhearted man.
One who every night could drown
in a sea of tears for a life that's a living hell.
Every day he wears the same baggy clothes,
a costume worn to hide the pain
that he doesn't allow anyone to see.
But each night the rain falls again.
Tears of a clown
Trying to get through a time of catastrophe
Full of remorse when he lays himself down
It's all part of the carnival show
but alone in shadows he weeps.
He's inconsolable as they flow
Tears of a clown
Nightmares haunt him as he sleeps
With bitter memories, he wakes
and another river flows down his cheeks
Tears of a clown
What sorrowful misery his heart wreaks
He doesn't answer when I scream
Into the dark, into my pillow,
Into the hollow between breaths
Where prayers rot.
Everyone says He listens.
But maybe He doesn't listen to girls like me.
Maybe I'm the mistake in the plan.
The broken thread. The shadow on the altar.
They told me He loves the brokenhearted,
But He watched when it happened,
He watched, and He did nothing.
I try to go back,
To fold my hands like they taught us in Sunday school,
To whisper His name like it still means something.
But it burns my throat,
Like a lie I never asked to carry.
They say He sees everything.
So He saw me.
He saw what he did—
The way I floated out of my body,
Counting rocks to stay
Anywhere but there.
Did He turn away?
Or was He watching with His holy eye,
Weighing my worth in silence,
And finding me too small to save?
Sometimes I wonder if He hates me.
If I'm the lesson in someone else's sermon.
The warning story for girls
Who don't pray hard enough.
I still wear the cross.
Not because I trust Him.
Because I'm afraid of what He could do
If I take it off.
Or maybe because I'm hoping,
Somehow, He'll notice me again
And feel something.
Anything.
Whene'er I think of how time flies
I tend to tenderly kiss your eyes ...
Perhaps in lieu of all sad goodbyes
(I tend to tenderly kiss your eyes)
A token for the brokenhearted lies
(I tend to tenderly kiss your eyes)
The ration of poor-fashioned alibis
(I tend to tenderly kiss your eyes)
Just that bitter bit of compromise
(I tend to tenderly kiss your eyes)
A provisional mission of butterflies
(I tend to tenderly kiss your eyes)
A fling that things can make arise
(I tend to tenderly kiss your eyes)
The sound of your seducing sighs
(I tend to tenderly kiss your eyes)
So much a touch can not disguise
(I tend to tenderly kiss your eyes)
Small ways you always improvise
(I tend to tenderly kiss your eyes)
Those thousand things we realize
When you've a mind to fantasize
It's ALL that and the other "why's"
Why I tend to tenderly kiss ...
Your eyes.