Long Cry for help Poems
Long Cry for help Poems. Below are the most popular long Cry for help by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cry for help poems by poem length and keyword.
The tide is strong, and the waves are crashing in abruptly.
The wind is blowing fiercely, and the rain is coming down.
A sailor's boat with a wooden paddle, and no life jacket on it rocks back, and forth at the dock.
All alone,and in despair standing for the righteous people.
Not a kind, and trustworthy person around to deliver one from destruction, and evildoers.
A loud cry for help, tears of misery, and why is there a reason to live.
Sadness is raging deep inside.
Happiness is seeping in the sand, being washed away, and drowning at sea.
Love awaits trial to be set free from slavery.
Pain, and loneliness while being held in captivity.
Hatred from the enemy bruised the body physically leaving scars, but brainwashing did not conquer the intelligent mind mentally.
Mental is not a status, or being, nor is the mind gone.
One has worn shackles, and chains in, and out of the prison.
Labeled guilty fo no reason.
Innocence being provoked by the enemy.
God will rule self defense in one's favor no matter what the judge says, or does , and the lies of the enemy will fall.
A war is fought within the U.S., and foreign countries.
A scarce land where the harvest is spoiled, and leftovers are rare.
One struggles to make something of his, or herself.
Will the trials, and tribulations of this world sink, or float to shore?
Will sweet fairy tales, or dreams become a reality?
One prays to God for an answer seeking wisdom, peace, and riches.
A loud voice spoke, and said be still, and everything was calm.
God appeared in the blue, bright, and sunny sky.
God said,"it is going to be alright my child."" I am here to lead you, and guide you out of bondage.""Now claim victory over the enemy, and sail away to the beautiful promiseland where everything is genuine, full of life, and not death, free of sin, and no poverty."
The promiseland is where you can be yourself, and be blessed.
At the heart of the storm is God's unconditional love, and mighty power.
Feelings of a lost hope, and cause vanished.
The courageous, and determined soul sailed away to the promiseland on the sailor's boat.
A joyous escape to freedom, and the battle is won.
No turning back to that old way of life, and place only to do God's will in the promiseland.
God will answer the prayers of a righteous man, or woman that will do his will.
I can't remember if the sun was shining
Or if the clouds looked down on me as I stood
A child of ten standing on a window sill
Whispering to himself he should
It started shortly after I woke
Distant where the trigger was
I'm guessing just the overflow
of everything they did and said
Finally ground down by all around
And though I'd fought for years
Death becomes a friend
When she's the only one there for you
Knowing I would soon be in the playground
Where no nurse could make better the names they cruelled
Knowing my mothers boyfriend was down stairs
Waiting for his latest vile whim to unfold
My mind consumed by every name called
I was not the same they proved
Alone in my crowded thoughts
T o death I looked for belonging
As I dressed my imagination dreamt
What could happen today?
Exploding into the unknown
My strength rapidly dissolved
I could see no directions
that didn't lead to another painful day
As my journey to the end begun
All they told me loading the gun
All that made me different from
Pushing me closer and closer to the edge of no return
In front of the mirror I stood
Cut off my curly hair
No longer the golliwog
That their taunts would compare
I covered my skin in talcum powder
As I didn't want to be
That horrible thick coon
he always called me.
My hair a mess
My colour unmasked
Tired, Frightened, alone,
I decided enough, enough
Standing on the window sill
The last bastion for survival colliding inside
As the exhausted wishes to hang on
Were overcome by the desperation to escape this hollow excuse for life
No single tear a cry for help
As id learnt they choose not to hear
I urge myself towards an end to the hurt
where the crying would clear
As I engulf my mind in my final moments
And call for death to take my hand
From across the road a woman called
To this day she probably doesn't know she saved my life
Tears unintentionally
Created rivers down talcum powdered cheeks
But my mother didn't laugh
when she found me
I guess that's where you'd expect everything to be made right
I guess that's where I learnt to no longer believe
Through every promising word in the wake of what could
They didn't do what they should
INSTEAD OF WAR
HISTORY IS A MYSTERY TO HUMANITY,
SOME KNOWN WITH AN EVIDENCE,
SOME UNKWOWN WITHOUT A TRACE,
PEOPLE EAGER TO KNOW WHY LIFE IS WHAT IT IS NOW?
IN OUR STRUGGLE TO LIVE,
WE GOT TO UNDERSTAND WHAT SENCE IT MAKES TO LIVE WITHOUT WAR,
THE HIGHEST STUPIDITY OF MAN KIND, IS THE ACT OF HATE,
LIKE A BIRD FLY,
WE FLY WAR,
LIKE A LION FEED ON FRESH MEAT
AM EMPIRE SUCK DRY THE FURTURE OF THE INNOCENT,
LIKE A VAMPIRE,
WE WAR FROM DISTANCE PLACES,
INSTEAD OF WAR
LETS TOGETHER PULL OFF THE MARKS OF ISOLATION
THEN THE RUMOURS OF WAR WILL EXIST NO MORE
LIKE A GLASS FALL,
BREAK THE BOND OF HATE,
THEN YOU SEE UNITY WILL ALWAYS KNOCK ON THE DOORS OF OUR TOWN,
LIKE A RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL SON
INSTEAD OF WAR
LET LOVE FLOW FROM THE TOP TO THE BUTTOM,
LET LOVE FLOW FROM OLD TO YOUNG,
LET LOVE FLOW FROM GREAT TO SMALL,
INSTEAD OF WAR
ON EVERY CONERS OF THE WORLD,
LET UNITY REIGN LIKE THE AIR,
INSTEAD OF WAR
IN OUR 21ST CENTURY,
LET IT BE WRITTEN THAT WE LEARN TO TOLERATE ONE ANOTHER,
DESPITE OUR DEFERENT OPINION,
LET IT BE SAID IN DISTANCE TIME,
HOW BRAVE WE ARE TO UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF PEACE,
INSTEAD OF WAR
WE NEED TO ANSWER THE CALL OF NATURE,
THE CALL OF LOVE,
LET MAKE USE OF THE TRUTH IN US,
THERE IS LOVE IN EVERYONE,
INSTAED OF WAR
LET THE MOUNTAIN HILLS OF ILLUSION BE DRONE DOWN,
WITH TOGETHERNESS IN UNITY,
LET THE TEMPLES OF SATAN BE BURN ABRAZE BY OUR STRUGLE TO LOVE ONE ANOTHER,
WE NEED NO MORE WARS IN THE WORLD,
LET THUNDER STRIKE DEAD THE PULPIT OF THE PROPHETS OF DOOM,
LET THE EARTH SHAKE AWAY THE TREASURE OF BABYLON UNTIL THEY BE BORN AGAIN,
LET THE SUN HEAT DOWN THE WEAPONS OF DISTRUCTION,
OF ALL SATANIC VAMPIRES,
INSTEAD OF WAR,
WHERE DREAMS ARE SHATTERED,
INNOCENT BABIES CRY FOR HELP,
BUT NONE TO HELP,
MOTHERS BLEED TO DEATH BY MEN ON KAKI JACKET,
SMOKES OF DRONE ON EVERY CONERS OF THE INNOCENT STREET,
CHANTS FOR HELP LEFT AND RIGHT,
UP AND DOWN FROM THE LIPS OF THE POOR,
BUT WHO IS TO HELP?
ALL FOR WAR,
INSTEAD OF WAR
LETS MOVE TO A BETTER WAY,
THE WAY OF LOVE,
THE WAY OF UNITY,
DESPITE WHATEVER IS,
THE WAY OF PEACE
I REST MY CASE.
I am far from adored innocence
I am a flawed perfection
Believe me, I want significance
Felt useless by rejection
I am willing to feel peace all day
I need to be heard during nostalgic nightfall
Crickets call for me as I stray away
Into the narrow path that lead to His hopeful hall
Losing my mind into the sinking sad of your saturated woe
Buried my feet below the surface of your waves to and fro
Anything happens sadly when happiness fails us yesterday
But, tomorrow is a day away, so I pray we make it all the way
Still, you are the ever-swaying clouds, glistening in the desert sky
What about you pour down your healing rain and dew?
Sorry, but not sorry I am sick with the crazy love flu too
Colliding with rain of disdain that loses grip of jubilation on high
I feel a jolt of energy as I pass you by like a quick bolt
I broke down your walls and, yes, you allowed me to
Honey, you think I am silly, innocent and inexperienced,
But I have learned life’s lessons that are so difficult…
I am not unskilled and naïve…don’t you have a clue?
I try to prove my worth…however, you’re not convinced…
Remember December and its elegant ember that burns within us
Soon, June shall grant us a July of justifiable change, so don’t fuss
Clinging on to the dark ceiling of set-me-free
Oh, how I long for authentic, sky-high liberty
I am a victim to vulnerability these days unfortunately
My voice is vital to His ears as I cry for help honestly
Tigers of tragic tension and turmoil try to attack me at every angle
I am hungry for Your gracious guidance, for I am an unsolved riddle
Please forgive me, I am a sinner and I am not innocent
I have done you so much wrong in the past and present
I have a million downfalls, but I am strong and full of courage
In a dangerous dilemma, trapped in failure jail that’s as cold as a fridge
I am frozen and left freezing
Again, I am deceived entirely by your shady intentions
I am sick of people-pleasing
So, I won’t pretend I am not sinking due to sorrow sessions
Oh, dear friend, from the start,
I thought you had a kind heart
You hurt me…
You took my innocence
Where do you go when you need support and the one who has always supported you isn’t there?
Who is left to help?
Who do I turn to in my time of need?
How do I ask for help from a God that I don’t believe in?
“We can do this. Amor vincit omnia (Love conquers all)” has become my silent mantra but the more I say it the harder it is to believe.
Can we get through this?
Can we really over come this obstacle or will this be the thing that tears us apart?
You are my solid loving presence that I turn to in my time of distress.
You are my soft and loving embrace when love is all I need.
You are my silent reminder that I mean something to someone.
Am I worth the effort to try to fix this?
The fear of impending loss is so great that in my mind I feel as if I have already lost you.
Someone help me!
I don’t think I’m strong enough to handle this alone, but I don’t have anyone to turn to.
I’ve never felt this alone.
I scream in distress for help, but no one can hear me.
I sob in heart wrenching agony, but no one comes to comfort me.
I am alone with only my pathetic my mind’s attempt to keep the nightmares of my life at bay.
This is my hell.
The only company, my misery.
The only feeling, my agony.
Silent prayers sent to a God that I’m not sure is real.
Is this punishment for forsaking you?
Is this your retribution against the non-believers and those who question your existence?
I cry for help but no one answers my call.
I scream for peace but my mind continues to spin and churn.
I pray for relief from this turmoil but who will answer my prayers?
Dear Lord, please aid me in this endeavor and help me to fix the problems I have had a hand in causing.
Dear Lord, please mend the relationship we have both taken for granted.
Dear Lord, please let everything be okay, let us make it through this. We have been strong until this point.
Please continue to give us strength so as we can overcome this obstacle you have placed before us.
I know I ask a lot of you, but please help. He is my light and my life and without him I am lost.
Please Lord; heed the prayers of a lost and wandering soul.
I cry sometimes. Enhancing this deluge of delirium. With a drop which
flows from my face to the flood of Earth’s clay as I inhale this bitter breeze of our garden’s grief! Seeing your withered wood…
I breathe deep… Inhale… Exhale…And hope that these frivolous feelings will bottle up after this bottle is downed!
Words now trapped…it’s a joke…but this is no banter of your basil bush!
This is a garden now growing with grief, which subdues layers of our sacred memories, suppressing sadness and carries on until my rancid lungs collapse… But… I don’t die. I just-carry on. Watching your roots rot…
As this decomposing disease devours your soul!
My soul slowly sinks into the mud. Yearning to find you six-feet-under. Beneath the sublime beauty of our orchids. To the place where
Hades resides... I miss the touch of your hands. The lingering sensation of your waning wood intertwined with my vines.
My fingertips now feel the burn of Hell! I learnt that this burn won’t melt, it just burns, until your whole bodies submerges and turns what they’ll learn and all their concerns into nothing! Because I guess everyone dies… Even if they don't deserve it...well I may have deserved it because I'm depicted as the ideal image of man yet they watch as my green leaves burn brown and… and this ivy poisons my rich roots. But this isn't a cry for help, it’s a letter, poem, or whatever you want to call this…This is my message to you!
Yes, angels are heavenly but even if they’re with me…they can't get inside
my mind and help me flourish in this Hell on Earth. The one you left me in!
So I thank them…but I’ve handled enough forced sympathy. I'd rather be
with some boys and booze and listen to a simple symphony.
There I can cry… myself …and become one with the flood from this deluge of delirium!
Imagine you’re alone and there’s nobody who cares
everyone disrespects and treats you unfair
you’re emotionally crushed
living a nightmare
slandered and helpless
no one anywhere
Now imagine you’re accused
of making up stories too
tales for attention overused
so nobody comes through
Bosses bullied now you’re sacked
losing all your friends at work
your friends still believe it’s all crap
can’t explain you going berserk
Now imagine you’re accused
of making up stories too
tales for attention overused
so nobody comes through
Unaware you loved working that job
unaware you were targeted by the boss
months you suffered while friends scoffed
still unaware of what you lost
Now imagine you’re accused
of making up stories too
tales for attention overused
so nobody comes through
I screamed out a cry for help
which nobody took serious
and there I was stuck in hell
ahead of me disastrous
Now imagine you’re accused
of making up stories too
tales for attention overused
so nobody comes through
In their refusal was disrespect
a “usual” annoyance
my cry a cry they expect
a useless nuisance
Now imagine you’re accused
of making up stories too
tales for attention overused
so nobody comes through
My friends this says a lot about me
and everything about you
realised eventually what did you do
made out that you were loyal and true
..... and I just went funny one day,
you’re the victim accused in this poem
bad things about you that I say
a lack of love is all I’m knowing
my whole life this way
Now imagine you’re accused
of making up stories too
tales for attention overused
so nobody comes through
That story you tell of me has surprises
I nicked your bike but I was in Cyprus
saying I’m the one a storyteller
I’m the image in your mirror
Now accuse me of stories too
cry and moan while someone comes through
deal with it like I could never do
then make out you’re the better man too.
To the reader imagining
now imagine you're not imagining
and this is your life
7/2/20
If venting and throwing sicks
and stones is the only thing
That turns you on and what you
can get your kicks from
And you accept or haven't come
to the realisation or conclusion
You think you may indeed need
help the plobem lies in you not
them
Then thinking i spending time
with you to gather up the biggest
sticks and stone's to cast at me
Through though pious of heart
it will not defend or shield against
the harm you wish to cause and
impart upon me
Because as a happy person wishes
only to help and make an unhappy
person feel much like themself
So to does an unhappy person wish
a happy person feel unappy as
they are
Same theory in essence just miles apart whence it comes to there
own individual different versions
of what joy means to them
The good innocently only wish
to help those unfortunate less
well off and are blind to understand
Why they would ever be open up
to be taken advantage of by those
they are only trying to help
It's crass to say but when someone
you are trying to help reverts to type
And the inevitable eventually
happens just remember
It's never personal though it
may appear to you where as
those you are trying to help
Unfortunately most see you as nothing
more than your generosity a safe
sort target to prey upon and exploit
Barred and estranged from every
friend and crossing family
doorstep and entering the last
saloon in town
Until every outreach and
cry for help was given up
on and lost
And relationship damaged
irrevocably
Just remember though bones
may heal by themselves
Words leave deep emotional scars
that though we may choose to
put to one's side and hide
Can be brought up at a seconds
notice and bring the past back
into the present
Should bear the warning although
naturally and altruistic helping other's
out may seem
Charity begins and starts at home
and they alone can rebuild the
bridge they burnt down
and so to it's up to them
Should they wish to repair it
in order to find their way back
home
The fire is blazing behind the hill and the animals are running wild in the street pushing the traffic in another direction.
Clouds of dust emerge from the sky sending particles flying in the air, landing on roof tops and engulfing the entire avenue, while the village people looked on with curiosity as the fire burn deep into their dignity.
Screams and shouts bellow from the village floor and you can hear the banging on the doors, the cry for help sound the alarm but soon or later the voice gets softer, and the sound fades and death takes the body away.
The fire continues to rage in the hills, melting everything in its path, pulling down powerline and trapping the canine its it kennels. It had nowhere to go, and the fire penetrates it from the head and in five second the dog was dead.
What curse lies in the village gate, what curse the ancestors have made, they are coming to life again and you must meet them on the other side.
The evening’s gets blacker, and the village gets emptier, and the people kept moving away from the disastrous place with salvage bundles on their head; everyone moves about in frenzy without a proper destination.
The exodus moves to the west and another group moves to the south and the exodus began to shout and the bucket is full to the brim. No water in the stream to water the northern dreams. No water in the fountain to water the Nothern mountain but they journey on, and destiny leads them on.
The thick black smoke ran a marathon up the hill burning everything and took down the entire village: I could feel the heat inside as it drew close to my side.
The fire is burning in my soul and my spirit is out of control. A spark of hope fell in the grass and sets my mind on fire, water could not put it out, but love watches it smolder to the ground and destiny held it in place to win the final big race.
The fire inside my heart continues to burn and the fire in my mind continues to ignite the entire town, the call came just in time and destiny brought us together.
Terminate the wrist. The vile will fill in due time. As a cell to a lip, a cup to the mouth. As the water falls, does the spirit in me. Terrorism is imagination. Terrorism is the memory of a facile elation. As the razor to the chin, groom yourself a chap. As the scent of her lingers, bury it in your snuff.
Turn the camera on. And turn the tiles red. By the time morning comes. A spirit is free, and this body is at rest. A fist to my temple, is not enough, to teach me about loss. A wrench to my strongest instinct, is not enough, to teach me trust. Turn the gears of this ship of a body, to full, it is full of rust.
Keep your mouth shut, in the ears of lovers. If you thought there was ever a chance, that this boy would ode. Ode to it Owe to it. Owned by it. Totalitarian cry for help, on a digital mainframe. Fall on the ear of the deaf. Every tile is exactly the same. But the red in my brain.
Bleed. And watch it breed. A new devil in the darkest of yet to come, of me.
Darling (Part 2)
The eyes part, the sun has given me another day. My lips are dirty of the wine I drank over years toward this haze. Darling Dark, cry for help. Doesn't this feel like the loss of a reptile brain? Darling dark, cry for help. In vain.
Nonetheless. The day is controlled by me I don't have a car, I have scars, and a piano with a pair of teethe. I bear them at the great empty on the ceiling fan. It's sharp clatter, won't send me back to a permanent slumber.
Darling Dark, of this plead. Schizophrenia is my wildest heed, Sure sure, and then some. .
I'll never take heed. I don't have the balls. I've got too much respect. To end thee.
So send a hitman, who kills strangers. I'll give him my piano, and the nails off of my fingers climbing up the walls. Toward that empty, I swore I saw once had a substance like cocaine. It numbs only one thing. Nothing, in me.
Honey to the sticky, of the slumber slobber release. That to beat it at a scarecrow memory. I will end something, call the police.
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