Long Cared Poems
Long Cared Poems. Below are the most popular long Cared by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cared poems by poem length and keyword.
When we agitated, they said we are mad
But they never cared to make us glad.
When we erupted like the volcano, they swore
But forgot our hearts that they tore.
We asked for necessities
But we were chased away by their securities.
We cried, that they might pity us,
But we were left alone to bear our cross.
We are supposed to be under their umbrella,
But we weren’t sheltered, hence we had to surrender.
Food isn’t affordable to eat,
And its been long since we’ve tasted meat.
Under the wicked sun with its rays red,
We saw their shinning daggers to dread.
All we asked for, is food, clothing and shelter,
But we were assaulted, and ran helter-skelter.
Politrickers, mock us not again
For our struggles would’t be in vain.
If we could survive these troubles,
We’ll forget the pain of these struggles.
Past
Time drifted around me, slipping through my fingers,
spinning like a dog chasing a tail it could never catch.
I floated in that familiar sea of uneasiness—
confusion thick as fog, self-worth barely a whisper.
Possibilities clung to the edges of my mind,
lazy, fragile, almost out of reach.
I had pushed limits, done the impossible,
lived through storms most never see—
yet still the whisper called:
Who am I?
Some say it takes a lifetime to know.
I wasn’t sure I had that long.
Present
The breeze carried a song I couldn’t quite decipher.
I gave, I loved, I tried—
but the whispers tugged at the fibers of my being.
Who are you?
I answered the only way I knew:
I am a warrior.
Bound by honor, by family.
I don’t seek the fight—
I protect, I defend, I love.
But even warriors break.
I felt shattered into a million pieces,
no glue, no time, no map to make myself whole again.
Patience, I told myself.
Rebuild.
Find a different way.
Climb slower this time.
More care.
More listening.
But God, I was tired.
My unbendable will had been folded, twisted,
and only now was it beginning to straighten.
Fear crept in—
Can I do this?
I looked up:
I had been three hundred feet from the top,
and now I was back at the bottom.
So tired.
So scared.
But this time, I shed the weight—
ego, pride, doubt, fear, old versions of myself.
If I didn’t let go, I wouldn’t make it.
So I let go.
Even tired.
Even trembling.
I let go.
Future
And then—
the flowers.
Fragile, delicate, beautiful.
Yet somehow they survived everything:
the storms, the frozen nights,
the snow piled six feet high,
the blazing sun.
Every year they rose again,
taller, stronger, more radiant.
Resilient.
Alive.
I cared for them, watched them bloom,
and they taught me what I had forgotten:
love is fragile, yes—
but it is also the strongest thing we grow.
Even when we leave,
love remains in the soil.
It blooms again.
It carries forward.
It becomes the proof that nothing beautiful
is ever truly lost.
So I climb again—
slower, steadier,
with more care, more humility, more heart.
Because like those flowers,
I am learning that no matter the storm,
I can grow again.
I can bloom again.
And love—
the love I give, the love I’ve known—
will always rise with me.
She was just a nameless child,
chasing herself through borrowed faces
Looking for little pieces of home
in unfamiliar places
Some passed hope from hand to hand,
some passed fear the same
Funny how two fires can look alike,
still burn a different flame
She carried stories on her back,
some she’d keep, some she’d lose
Growing ain’t the roads you’re shown,
it’s learning what to choose
The loud all swore they knew her heart
the quiet rarely cared
Yet every soul she wandered through
left something with her there
She found tomorrow in foreign smiles,
and sorrow in familiar eyes
Turns out truth don’t wear one face,
it’s scattered in disguise
Maybe that’s what growing is,
not proving someone right,
but finding her little miracle area…
In those soul-searching lessons
gave her the courage
to name herself…
America
Here comes the novice poet.
With [ Edna St. Vincent Millay and Elizabeth Barret Browning ]
He will remember what they say, and then will always Know it.
[ “ I will permit my memory to recall “ ][ “ How do I love Thee “]
I do believe, from here to death; You’ll never see me Frowning.
In step the “ BRONTE “ sisters; Charlotte, Emily, and Anne.
Come back from their Imaginary Land.
Speaking English; Not the language that they shared.
[“ To attack the first is not to assail the last “ ] As if they cared.
I see [ Alfred Lord Tennyson ] will he sign my copy of “ The Poet “
Over there is [ Edgar Allen Poe ] and his Raven “Nevermore”
Exhilaration ends: I wake up, no one will ever know it.
I spent the night, a LOVEFILLED night: With many a Great POET.
Now that I’ve comeback from time, I have no words I have no Rhyme.
The paper, not a drop of ink. It looks at me with a BLANK STARE.
But now I do Bethink, that I should write something THERE.
I just can’t write and think.
LIFE
Life is a gift
But we have never cared
Destruction of the rain forest
And no animal is spared
Arise great Pro-man
Now raise up your sword
Do not let materialism deceive you
So stick to your word
The petroleum wells will dry up some day
And they will be no money for you to pay with in that way
The gold mines will diminish one day
And there will be no fields for our children to play
Arise Pro-human
Defend mother earth
Do not think of wealth
Or all that you can get
Life is beautiful
So let us be dutiful
As a Good Samaritan
And help your fellow African
Chinese or European
In need
To create a paradise devoid of greed
That is what I call Utopia
Not until we die
When it is all over
We can not let the children suffer
I have seen pain in my old days
The weak rise
And the mighty fall
Armies rise to fight at the clarion call
Only the truth remains
Like a tree that stands tall
In the next millennia where shall we be?
Vanity after vanity
The rest is history
Life is a gift
And love is a blessing
Let us unite this world
And teach a good lesson
A Line From The Chorus
By; Secco Bel Canto
and Obbligato Cadenza
--------------------------------------------------------------
Euphoria to long-term commitment and partnership
Most people want to be liked and viewed positively
by others:self-sacrifice can lead to resentment and
an unhealthy dependence on other people.
. Some people want to be liked so badly
that they will sacrifice their wishes and desires to
prioritize fulfilling other’s desires.
Excessive People pleasing tendencies
Falsetto, she misuses the word to get him to
reconsider his position. Falsetto should mean
false freind. But the facts in his performance
gave light to there situation." What about me" he said.
Her response was, "what about you the priority is with us
and you acting all selfish!"
Stressing the need to please one's self is healthy and
wise. It stems from not wanting or wishing to be exploited.
A slow erosion of boundaries he told her you get what you
want at my expense. She then comforted him, and told him
she loved him and cared for him
what she needed she would make up for it
with her cooking dinner and dessert she just needed a little
more attention then usual and she'd be glad to "square the deal".
She wanted to employ the Eigenharp into there sound: it was
an investment into there future she thought
he saw it diffferently. He had longed for a relationship with her
so she say's: he said there partnership had been in phases.
Three phases, Phase 1 I meet her and feeling love with her.
Phase 2 we talked and she became my friend.
Phase 3, she wished me to remain her friend, when she
noticed I had began to lose
interest in furthering something one sided. Her talents
made up for our short-comings.
And she had entertained many men while they were partnered.
So had he: she lacked confidence in him as a potential lover
but found him to be a precious friend.
Human creativity and the primal need for self expression.
Dal segno he quickly interjected some sanity to your passionate
vehementive want. You can have it, he said it shall be incorparated into
our sound we will reajust to accomidate your inotion.
A world of people wantng and waiting have to be our concentration.
Direct your gaze upon the success of the project. "Applaud that you have conveinced me!"
On the night of their grandma’s funeral their Dad said,
“I think that you will find…one way to help us through her loss
is to think of the memories she left behind.
The children remembered the taste and aroma of her baking
her gentleness…how much she cared…
The adults smiled as they interrupted one another…
with the memories they shared.
It was wonderful, in a way, to see Grandma through each other’s eyes…
but the memory their grandpa chose left the rest of them surprised.
“I’ll remember her music.” Grandpa said as he smiled wistfully.
But they all knew grandma never played an instrument,
could not dance
and always sang off key.
“Not that kind of music.” Grandpa said anticipating their surprise
It was the music in her smile…the music in her eyes.
“There was music in everything she did.” He smiled
“Music in the way she walked.
there was music in the way she slept
and music in the way she talked”.
And as sad as they all were that night
when they closed their eyes and listened
even before their grandpa was through
somewhere in their darkness…
they could heard her music too…
Which is why whenever there is a death in their family
they always try to find
the aromas,
the tastes
and the music
in the memories left behind.
We suck.
Honestly,
for if tHere
be Creator,
we’ve made
them out to be
‘haters’, baiters,
facilitators of pain
and punishment in
judgment of our ‘sins’.
If I were ‘Them’,
I’d ***** slap us.
What if…
We really are created
in the image of…then what?
No wonder we struggle with
guilt and sin because if we ARE in
the image of Creator … can you imagine?
Here’s the deal… there is Know Such a Thing
Creator wouldn’t punish in judgment of anything
Destroy such precious generations of life
and that’s right… we’ve been ‘here’
a very Long Time for reason
through countless seasons
breathing surviving
existing over Time.
We grew. Learned
yearned, cared to
dare and Became.
Aware,
We invented
debated, moved
over lands and
Pro.Created. Grew
schools, organized rules
in towns growing over grounds
into cities of abundant sounds.
Do we know exactly how ‘delicate’
we ARE in this Universe? How almost
impossibly improbable our existence even is?
You being here, now at this moment
in this space of real time current
reading this silly little rhyme
is THE definition of Time.
We Owe it to God,
because the truth is?
We’re pretty hard
on ourSelves.
All things considered.
Form:
What If I cared more
& truly gave a damn?
Would I be in this position
That I am?
What If I loved more
& stopped thinking of me?
Could this had been prevented?
Did this have to be?
What If I listened to her
Would she have wanted to stay?
I ask myself these questions
Every single day.
What If I prayed with her?
Would God have sympathy on me?
I wonder if that's the reason
Why he set my wife free?
What If I went to church
All those Sundays I refused?
Would she still be here?
Would I be the one she'd choose?
What If I cared more about
What she thought & her feelings?
My behavior over these past 10 years
Have been eye-opening & revealing.
I didn't care.
I didn't try.
I didn't love.
There's no excuse why.
She was my blessing
To me God's greatest gift.
Now I'm left here asking myself.........What If
“Daddy, will you pray with me?” I asked him.
He sat on my bed, took hold of my hand
and prayed for me.
My pastor father....
his words rising like incense
up to the throne of grace.
I heard him plead for healing
on my behalf
and then for himself
for divine strength to carry
all of the burdens that he had.
In those sacred moments,
I could hardly breathe
as I squeezed his work worn hands…
When he whispered, “Amen”,
he brought my hand to his lips
and kissed it.
I almost cried
because I realize
that Daddy is getting old
and I cannot bear the thought
Oh, how it tugs at my heart...
the thought of losing him
“I worry about you,” he said
“You’re my only daughter!”
and after our goodnights
I’m here pouring my heart out tonight
trying to get past the lump in my throat
Because I know...
I know...
these times are precious
God chose to be known as Father
Abba….Daddy
I never had a problem
understanding the love of God
because of that term…FATHER
My earthly father
is everything a daughter could want and more
The first man I ever loved
He is honest and hardworking….
He exemplified the meaning of sacrifice
as for years he cared for my mother
wheelchair bound
unable to care for her most basic needs
due to MS
He'd feed, change, and care for her
Serving the church devotedly
Giving all he has…..
An academician...
who sometimes would pay from his pocket
when a student had no money for books
A man who would stop
to give a ride to anyone on the street
A man whose office
and home
Were always open for the weary
A man who stood for truth....
“though the heavens fall”
My father…..
My hero….
The representative
Of my heavenly FATHER!
“How deep the Father’s love for us
How vast beyond all measure.”
Father God!
Abba…Father!
My Daddy, Johnny!
Matthew 7: 9 – 11 9 “Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10 Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11 If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!
Submitted On January, 4, 2015
Contest: Tell Me About Your Daddy
Sonsor: Judy Konos