Long Come apart Poems

Long Come apart Poems. Below are the most popular long Come apart by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Come apart poems by poem length and keyword.


Will You Forever Be a Friend To Me

Can you help me find my dreams
Will you be there when I come apart at the seems
Can you look beyond it all to see what’s inside
Will you be there when worlds collide
Can you fill my heart when it is empty
Will you forever be a friend to me

Can you shelter me from the rain
Will you be there through my agony and pain
Can you help me to decide
Will you show me honor and pride
Can you fight along with me bravely
Will you forever be a friend to me

Can you chase my fears away
Will you be there at my dying day
Can you wipe my teary eye 
Will you console me when I cry
Can you set my soul free
Will you forever be a friend to me
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Staking the Truth Collaboration

the reader of the stars devours the past and redresses the future

sees in crystal balls the flames at stake kindled by misperception


as slumber is kind for once I encounter the woman of my dreams

a princess no doubt a Cinderella who never wished for any shoes


they called her a witch ignoring that the gypsy had appropriated

that sinking feeling when drowned in a pond of pain and bigotry


she glows in the dark but her broomstick does not cease to the fire

propels a few Tarot cards as if to prove her guilt and kind wisdom


like a ghost of knowledge she swings on a pendulum above ashes

rises like Phoenix above mocking spectators and clutches the curtain


not a single thread of benevolence has come apart at what seems

like defeat yet carries resilience and truth for giving up is for losers



20th August 2020

Premium Member Christmas Tree

“Not many fake things are so nice for me, but I sure love an artificial tree.” quote by poem's author

We had to ditch last year our Christmas tree.
Worn out it was! We needed something new.
Big after-Christmas sales we went to see,
and huge discounts were more than just a few.

We saw a tree – not too small or too tall -
a beautiful white tree that was pre-lit.
There were no boxed ones left of it at all.
I liked it best, so “as is” we bought it.

We had to place it carefully inside
the back of hubbie’s truck, which worked okay.
In three parts it could come apart to hide
it till the time we’d put it on display.

I love the softness of its lights. It seems
like candy land! We did not know about
the way its lights give different types of beams.
We put it up and figured that all out.

Its colored lights can have a steady glow,
or they can stay one certain color, or
they can flash or brightly beam, then fade low.
I could not wait to get it on our floor!

Fun ornaments and garlands go around
that tree, which makes it a joy to look at.
Our two cute kitties very quickly found
our tree but don’t attack it. I’m glad for that!
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The Inbetweens

There’s a glitch in the matrix
A system breakdown
You keep me there 
Wanderin around 
Blinded by the shadows
Runnin through the pain

Dancin in the waves
Drownin in the breeze
In through the out door 
Out through the in
Baby we’ve gone crazy
All over again

When the skies darkest
Who will be there 
when you’ve lost your dreams
Who will be there 
when you come apart at the seams

Dancin in the waves 
Drownin in the breeze
In through the out door
Out through the in
Baby we’ve gone crazy all over again

The streets are all empty
The crowds have gone away
Left you abandoned 
No need to say
Pick me up hold me down
There’s no guarantees 
There’s no inbetweens 
There’s no inbetweens 

There are no inbetweens
Form: Lyric

What Can You Say

what do I have to do to win your heart?,
we share jokes and laughter on the fly.

I’ve tried so hard, yet we’re apart,
my hope is fading, as years go by.

As kids I pushed your swing at school,
but as I held your hand, you played it cool.

I watch you cry and come apart,   
as you have felt the sting of life,

as you have now a wounded heart,
instead of being someone’s wife.

what can one say, where can I start,
to make you see the love I feel,

I’ve done all I could to play the part,
instead of standing, now I kneel.

as actors, we have never read the script,
the one that held the happy ending,

the story line was shattered, it was ripped,
that we were lovers, was but pretending. 
 
and when I’m gone, when life is over,
when all my diary has been read,

you’ll know I was the man who loved you,
what can you say, when I’ll be dead.

.
Form: Verse


Premium Member Last Light of Illumination

the last light  
   slips along the seam  
      where fabric remembers  
         every pull  
            every strain—  

a narrow glint  
   catching  
      the single stitch  
         that kept  
   the whole  
from opening  
   into ruin  

not heroic  
   only persistent  
      a small  
         insistence  
   of thread  
holding  
   what wanted  
      to come apart  

I watch  
   how dusk  
      withdraws  
         from the garment’s edge  
   leaving behind  
a faint  
   amber residue  
      of labor  
         no one noticed  

the stitch  
   is nothing  
      remarkable—  
a mismatched  
   length of cotton  
      pulled through  
         hurriedly  
   years ago  

yet last light  
   pauses  
      on that place  
         as if naming  
   the fracture  
that became  
   the strongest  
      part  

perhaps we are not meant  
   to stay seamless—  
      only  
         luminous  
   where we were  
      once torn  

each mend  
   a narrow window  
      through which  
         something  
            unutterable  
               enters  

I gather  
   no answers  
      only the scattered  
         weather  
   of who I was—  

a thread  
   of silence  
      a little ash  
         of longing  
   a faint  
      afterglow  
         of voices  
I can no longer  
      hold  

yet beyond  
   obvious  
      sorrow  
a sympathetic  
   spirit  
      sways  
         in the fabric—  

not hope  
   exactly  

but ancient  
   instinct  
      of a stitch  
         that has outlived  
            its garment  

and yet  

   keeps binding  
      through  
         darkness  

I woke  
   with dust  
      of old selves  
         still silvering  
            my lungs—  

fine threads  
   where my heart  
      had once  
         fastened  
            its small  
               lantern  

I opened  
   my eyes—  
      nothing  
         miraculous  

only pale  
   machinery  
      of morning  
         turning  

& inside me  
   a thread  
      catching  
         on that same  
            sentence—  

the one  
   that held  
      everything  
         together

Premium Member It is written

the underworld rumbles and summons
beckoning in groveled whispers
with undertones of shady pretenses

haunted by gods and demons
who brazenly wave their book of souls
tormentors do the dirty work in afterlife

meanwhile here kings and rulers
wealth in pocket pauper in heart
build their towers to climb to heaven

every last of these towers of babylon
will one day come apart at the seams
they’ll disintegrate and fall to dust

greed and hate and malice
feed self-fulfilling prophecies
of wars designed to never end

man’s self-destruction on auto-pilot
will one day rise their corpses from fetid ashes
and lead their crusade into eternal damnation



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Dalliance With the Winter Birch

Dalliance With The Winter Birch

Crystal glances at the brilliant blue 
Marching up there with blinding sun soaked sky
Clouds stream by 
They come apart in seams of wonder  
As the day begins to shine
Work waits there on the farm
A dalliance with winter wind and trees begin
White limbs swing limp, spring back again on birches
Firm roots, frozen earth, hold the hard wood down
I climb the highest branches there  
At 8:00 am farm chores start once again
They can wait for just a while longer
While all of nature sinks into the skin
As I figure out how to return
Somehow I got lost above the trees
Tangled in the maze of branches
Caught, never found, while climbing birches 
Never quite figured out
Which way was up or down

Premium Member Flipping My Lid

It’s been a hard day but there’s no laws to say
That I can’t settle down with a gin
Late night R & R with an hour of TV
And then I will maybe turn in

The gin… that was easy, just spin that screw cap
Then tip up the bottle and pour
But what freaking demon has screwed G & T
It never was this hard before

This flaming recycling nonsense is mad
With screw caps that won’t separate 
The cap and the bottle do not come apart
And boy does it make me irate

A one handed action to top up my glass
To sparkle and fizz as I sip
But that is no more because some lunatic
Decided he’d give me some gyp

Brute force is required to crack that first seal
But the cap simply won’t unattach
It sits in the flow and it will not let go
As it acts like a half open hatch

So now I need one hand to angle the bottle
Another to hold back the cap
It’s driving me nuts, I just want to relax 
So much for this net zero crap

My bottle of tonic is sat in the cooler
But I settle down in my seat
The medics are worried about a big rise
In folk drinking alcohol neat.
Form: Rhyme

Survival of the Fittest

Survival of the fittest


A bird on a branch, reflecting on existence;
Realizing everything it thought it knew about mortality,
Was really just how to show its own ignorance.
No possibility of death as it rides upon the wind so free;
Flying so high above the land,
That nothing could bring this day to an end 
And there is still so much more to see.


An idea of creation so profound that it seemed the only truth,
But all it knew has come apart 
And it has lost faith in all that which it views.
Everything has changed in the blink of an eye
And a stitch in time is not saving; it is slipping and sliding,
As the bird falls down from way up on high.


The friend it saw only yesterday has disappeared from its mind’s eye.
Gone in a second of time, its wings no longer flap
And the rotting flesh is more or less a piece of magpie pie.
Gone from its sight; no conversation in the morning light.
No dawn chorus, no warning; no more soaring.
Just a ghost of a life that has passed it by.


Eaten alive by the cat in the night;
The bird that no longer sings is no longer spotted flying high.
For that is that; it has no goodbyes, 
So the bird rises from its branch and flies, 
Up into in the great blue sky.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
© Aa Harvey  Create an image from this poem.
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