Long Crying(a) Poems
Long Crying(a) Poems. Below are the most popular long Crying(a) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crying(a) poems by poem length and keyword.
Where shall I flee? I’m swimming in the waters of misery…
And I’m crying a river…I’m saturated in woe
How do I think cheerfully? I’m lost in the abyss…and the shadows won’t let me be…
And I’m bewildered… I’m fighting to break free…
(I can’t break free…
Where do I flee?
Why can’t I break free?)
The spiders are spinning their webs above me…
Bless me and untangle me from this madness…please… give me peace…I’m wasting away –
They’re preying upon me…they’re whipping me … warping their way inside of me
My saliva drips on the ground…I’m growing numb and I pray
The monsters don’t attack my heart’s desires…if I let them break free,
I’ll never be the same…I’ll never see the light of day
Where do I belong? I’m roaming in the fields of blasphemy
And I’m crying a river…I feel like an awful disgrace…
How do I find a pathway? I’m lost in fields of weeds…they’re producing catastrophe
And I’m bewildered… I’m trying to finish the race…
(I can’t keep pace…
The sweat is trickling down my face…
Why can’t I keep pace?)
The wasps are chasing after me…where do I flee?
Caress me and save me from the distress…stinging me in pleasure…I’m drifting away –
They’re hovering all around me… they’re harassing me…could you wipe away my tears?
Find me a place of rest…to make the sufferings end and I pray
The darkness will stop spreading lies in my head…if I throw away my fears,
I’ll never learn to face my fears…I’ll never know His way…
Where shall I go? I’m roaming in the fields of blasphemy
And I’m crying a river…I’m saturated in woe
How do I find the key? I’m lost in fields of weeds…they’re reproducing catastrophe
And I’m bewildered…
I’m yearning to let go…
I’m learning to cope with my fears…
I’m deserting my woe…
I’m wiping away the tears...
(that has been bottled up for many years… )
The spiders have ensnared me in their webs…
I’m in danger…I’m wrapped up in distress…
and there is no where to hide…
The wasps are tracking me down...I haven’t paid my debts…
I’m struck in alarm…I’m in a mess…
Please stay by my side – catch me as I collide
( We’re all together on this ride… )
I can’t break free (please relieve me from my despair)
Why can’t I break free? Where do I flee? (this pain is too much to bear)
I can’t keep pace (give me the energy to shine like the sun)
Why can’t I keep pace? Why can’t I finish this race? (give me some strength to run)
I’m at homecoming, Dad!
I know you didn’t get to see what I was wearing,
but, I will tell you all about it when I come home, Dad.
I’m coming home now, Dad.
Of course we get Wendy’s on the way.
I’ll be home in a couple minutes, Dad.
I’m on our road, Dad.
There’s several cars parked in our driveway.
My stomach drops,
Are you okay, Dad?
I go inside preparing for the worst, Dad.
I still have an inch of hope.
Mom tells me the news, I can’t believe her, Dad.
I know you weren’t going to make it much longer, Dad
but I didn’t expect it to be this soon.
I rush to my room,
I can’t be downstairs as all these people see my cry, Dad.
It’s been an hour, Dad.
There’s so many people at our house.
I can’t bare to go downstairs and see you lying there.
I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye, Dad.
It’s been five hours, Dad.
Mom keeps sending people to my room to see if I’m okay.
I can’t even talk, I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, Dad.
It’s been a couple of days, Dad
and it’s been really hard to get out of bed in the morning.
I find Mom crying a lot, and I try to stay strong for her, Dad.
It’s been a week, Dad
and your funeral was today.
It was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through.
I tried not to cry, but it was too much to handle.
I’m sorry, Dad.
It’s been a month, Dad
and school’s just been too stressful.
I find myself thinking about you a lot.
I really miss you, Dad.
It’s been two months, Dad
and I find myself dreaming you’re still here.
I wake up sobbing when I realize you are not here, Dad.
It’s been three months, Dad
and I can’t find a purpose to get up in the morning anymore.
It hurts so bad that you’re gone,
I feel like my world has fallen apart, Dad.
It’s been three and a half months, Dad
and Mom gets angry at me because I’ve given up on everything.
She took me to the doctors today, Dad
and she’s really worried about me.
My friend’s have given up hope on me too.
I feel so alone and I don’t know what to do, Dad.
It’s been four months now, Dad
and it’s still hard getting up in the morning,
I’ve been working on getting better, Dad
but sometimes it’s still a struggle to get up every morning.
I’m trying my best, Dad
But today I just couldn’t get myself up.
I couldn’t get out of bed today, I feel like I’m losing all hope.
I’m sorry, Dad.
I was just four when I discovered that some grown-ups cry.
That’s because I saw my mommy dragging my daddy down the stairs,
Her eyes so full of tears that they fairly poured down her flimsy nightgown.
Daddy wasn’t crying. Daddy was dead.
When I was six, I had cause to cry on my own account.
Mommy had been dating a man, she said if they married I would be a flower girl.
One night she came into my room crying a little and said she was sorry, they eloped.
I cried quietly. I’m not sure it was all for me.
At eleven, a whole new kind of tears entered my life.
Asleep in my room late at night, I awoke to my mom screaming and sobbing.
My three-year-old sister slept next to me so I just listened as my stepfather beat her.
I cried so hard. I thought I would never stop.
Age 20 and happy to be in college away from the pain.
Divorced, mom found a new love in vodka, and he controlled her more than her ex.
I brought my love home to meet her, and she asked him how he could like a fat, lazy slob like me?
I knew I shouldn’t cry. It didn’t stop me.
In my life have been many opportunities to cry.
Being told I would die when my daughter was a baby and I thirty-two,
The death of my mother, my youngest daughter’s fiancé dying of cystic fibrosis.
With each tear I fade a little. I’m almost gone.
So now in my 50s, I find out my oldest daughter is sick.
Stage four lymphoma, and she didn’t cry through chemo, hair loss,
Almost dying four times in treatment, emergency surgery, pulmonary embolism.
It’s okay. I cried enough for both of us.
She is twenty-six, and sometimes I can hear her crying.
Her lymphoma is back, creeping into her spine like an armed terrorist,
And while it is a small encampment that hasn’t grown, our fear, sadness, and helplessness increases daily.
I hear her cry. I make sure she can’t hear me.
I am approaching sixty; sometimes I feel one hundred.
I wonder if God has allotted us a finite number of tears for our lifetime,
If those tears are stored in the chambers of our heart and we need to conserve some for what tomorrow holds.
Let her last tear be her last tear. But give me one last tear — sparkling and light — dancing down my cheek in gratitude as I fade to clear.
fbruary 2, 2019
Heavy buckets of rain..
Falling from the sky
An explosion of heavy downpours..
A cold chilling night ..
feeling the bone chilling cold..
The sound of pouring rain is a safe haven..
When indoors..
Warm and cozy at home..
Homebound for the night..
Feeling a sense of security..
Dreading the moment of departure..
Departing from my safe haven..
Driving in my car..
On a deep dark road...
The sound of only heavy rain..
The sky is crying a thousand tears..
Windsheild wipers are moving at the greatest speed..
Hautingly eerie..
Briefly I see someone standing at the intersection..
A women desperately needing transportation..
Standing with an umbrella in one hand..
Thumb standing in another..
Feeling such compassion for a women desperately seeking a ride..
With no hesitation I stop and pull over..
A women stranded on a deep dark rainy night..
I have done a good deed for the night
A good Samaritan I am..
The Hitchhiker entered inside my car without hesitation..
Stating where her destination would be..
I..
Without hesitation proceeded to drive her to the destination..
Visibility is quite poor..
I continue to drive..
The hitchhiker pointed at her destination..
I quickly pulled over..
With a warm smile..
She thanked me kindly
Was indeed so grateful for the ride..
I questioned her destination
As there was only a massive sign
The massive sign ..
Of which..
Stated it was a Cemetery..
She graciously beamed..
And stated..
" I have come here only to escort the others to their permanent home "..
I must go now..
Rest assured you shall be rewarded for your kindness..
Goodbye for now..
Astonished and amazed..
Goosepimples had appeared instantaneously..
And ever so rapidly on my arms..
Strands of fibers
Standing straight..
I watched the woman hitchiker walk away happily..
A warm and lovely glow
A smile on her face..
She gracefully walked towards the cemetary..
And with a blink of an eye she completely vanished..
Vanished without a trace..
The gracious hitchhiker..
Was she a spirit guide in disguise ?
An angel in disguise?
A deep dark mystery shall always remain..
On a cold and rainy winters night..
Driving alone along a deep dark highway..
Tell me, Guys, Who have written the world problems in their poems? Sorry, Only few poets have waged war against them. Among them, I admire Browning, Dickinson and Sarojini Naidu. Who have fought war against the anti-social elements As a human being,I astonished to read their poems. Thanks god, thanks a lot for their lovely creations.
Emily Dickinson writes success is counted sweetest,a lyric She questions the readers who can understand the real success? One dying warrior can only tell the correct answer The success is valued most by those who have failed
This is acknowledged by the Victorian poet Robert Browning In his fantastic poem,The incident of the French camp
The cry of the children is written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
She laments against the child labour,a social sin. The first poetess who cries about the problem of children She says crying a little will not help anyone in the world This one is recognised by William Blake, an English poet. In his marvelous work, The chimney sweeper
In her poem Street Cries, Sarojini Naidu's voice for labour She rousing the world to labours various cries To tend the flock, to bind the mellowing grains She encourages services in open-air markets. This is agreed by Jonathan Swift,an Anglo-Irish satirist.
In his classical poem A description of a city shower.
1908
Last day at school for me
Some thirteen years Ive had
And Im going to be a farm hand
Just like me dear old Dad
Here now its Mr Peters
A silence falls over the class
'Registration' he says as he does every day
I am Williams and always called last
Boys first as always he starts,
I know it off by heart,
Abbot, Brown then Carter,
Cartwright and Cathcart,
Edwards, Jones and Needham,
Penny, Potter, Ryan
Sadler, Seedhouse, Setters,
The Smiths both John and Brian,
Taylor, Tonks and Tromans,
Walters, absent he,
Watson, Wigg and Wilberforce,
Then Williams, thats me.
1915
We'd never been out of the county
But here we were grabbing our chance
With butterflies, rifles and bayonets
Here we were heading for France
We crossed on the good ship bravado
Yearning for war stern to aft
Back slapping loud gallows humour
We were young, we were keen.... we were daft
1920
My sister asks if Im going to see the plaque
Then quickly says sorry
I just mean do you want to go
I tell her yes and dont worry
Its cold, my sister holds my arm
'Here comes your teacher' she whispers
'A fine day for it Williams' Peters says
'This must be one of your sisters'
'My wife' I lie and he buys it
I hear someone giggle behind
He tells her she must be a very brave girl
To marry a man who is blind
I swear at him spitting my venom
Like a serpent cornered and trapped
But a voice speaks over a megaphone
And everyone cheers and claps
We are moving along at a shuffle
People queuing to look at the plaque
My sister describes the ornation
Upon cedar wood names carved in black
'What does it say?' now I ask her
And she read me the words that she saw
To those of this village who gave their lives
for their country in the Great War
Read me the names I tell her
And slowly now she does start
Abbot, Brown, Carter,
Cartwright, Cathcart
She hesitates a little,
She is crying a little as well,
I say it doesnt matter
She is finding it hard I can tell
The list is very long she says
And though so much I care
The very best thing about it is
That your name is not there.
Time and Tides
by
W.A.STOFER
We are the Carnies in the world circus, always being asked to improve our act, “Can you change your routine a little?” asks the Ringmaster. “Can you give the audience more of a death defying skit?” so we wholeheartedly agree, and prostitute ourselves to keep the show going. Time is spent day after day until it is now in the past. We reflect on the experiences with ever fading memories. “That was a great time back then!” we say aloud to justify our place in the world. We Know we could have done more, but ran around dancing to the paymasters tune on his broken flute, crying a little inside everyday as we can no longer see our true selves in the mirror. Wind, rain and cold, now pursuers us with a vengeance. We where impervious to this in our youth. Aches and pains plague us as if we owed a debt.
Time ticks by in our denial, “One more day is all I need!” we shout from the darkened room. The show is winding down and we grasp the things we hold dear. We accept the empty hour glass for what it represents, and slouch more and more never looking up to the stars like we used too. History is our sales pitch for the future is for foolish dreamers, experience and errors are our stock in trade. Life is not finite, it does not end it only changes. We move to the next place battle scared and wounded, heavy as the cold dark night with fading emotions. We once used passion as a sword and denial as a shield. We held our herald high, propped up by ego! Rejoice for the great battle we fought against time, but now we seek a post war rest. We all will be someones fading memory as the tides change but it does not matter for you had been there once upon a time, long long ago. A hero in your own space and time!
The End
A Cold Dark Yellow Unhallowed Moon
A cold dark yellow unhallowed moon smiles beguilingly
In the pitch black starless and cold empty night sky
Suckling upon the blood and the very life force of
Pure innocence, light, and goodness . . . .
Fear stirs eerily in the forlorn sound of a fog horn that’s
Blowing and crying a sad echo haunting far in the distance
It warns of the imminent arrival of a malevolent Hellspawn
Force of absolute unmitigated evil . . . The Phantom Vampire.
As the Phantom Vampire materializes from nowhere in the
Darkest shade of night blanketed in the thickest of fog and
The coldest of night air . . . One can sense with utter fear
And foreboding shivering sounds touching from the shadows
Creeping softly cold fingers down the spine with walking
Fingers crawling inside a prism of frozen ice and in a mist
Of souls crying in the presence of demons while yearning lust
Of one blanket covering the sky’s face painted showing
Hell’s own hideous face—an exquisite evil and a spirit
Drunken and moaning in an eternal fiery abyss of
Suffering and howling sounding their own lust for pain
Great darkness grips them who walk this troubled Earth
Without joy casting happiness to the lepers always and
Forever chained to the darkness and eating out hope
In the very end . . . .
From this spider’s web and nest of dark perpetual evil
The Phantom Vampire transforms himself from ethereal
Form to his human form quite frightening indeed for
Any human being gazing at his grim countenance and
His most fiery red eyes glaring intently whenever he
Encounters an unsuspecting soul . . . and the sight of
His razor-sharp canine teeth bring on convulsive fear
In the hearts and minds of his intended victims . . . . continued
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (November 6, 2014)
got me thinking about
when i was young
drawing a picture scar
shopping with
my parents
in north
of ireland
british armed soldiers
pointing guns at us
security checkpoint
i remember
a cold feeling
running down
my spine
mum warning us
to keep the noise down
these people
are dangerous
could kill you
in a second
she said
to us
say your prayers boys
guns are upon you
feeling darkness crawl
the devils tools
ten at the time
stepping out
of the car
my father grabbed
the barrel roughly
of the gun
with venom
in his voice
the blood boiled
feeling fathers rage
in the child witness
to such an act
roughly saying
stop pointing
that gun
at my children
makes one cry
how a world
they sat by
saw or country
in pain and suffering
being tortured
love is peace
terrorists are armed
soldiers employed
to kill innocence
you are now
seeing the world
through wisdom
grants you keys
into the souls eyes
that have saw suffering
become meek
crying a child
in fear
seeing my father
brought to his knees
on the ground
my mother
going crazy crying
saying what
is wrong
with you people
a higher
ranked soldier
walks in saying
that is enough lads
leave the man
to get back and sort
his noisy family
out laughing
like we were
beneath him
i hugged my dad
thought they
were going
to kill him
i remember
gritting my teeth
an oath
one made
as a child
when i get older
i will kill you
to this day
i remember
his face
that of darkness
a ten year old child
looking at the power
of the gun
staring growling
into the face
distorted sight
of a laughing satan
of a man
leaving a scar
on a child
one of
pure innocence
you really
got me thinking
opening up
inside the mind
on this
one wound
i have long
forgiven them
but it was
rememberance day today
My dear, my love
My one from above
Ill only love you
But now, we have to be through
I know I said I would never hurt you
And I don’t want to, but this I must do
You said you wouldn’t hurt me
But you were wrong, you cut me deep
Im crying a river, a flood
My arms are emptying of their blood
I don’t want to do this
I shared with you my first kiss
But now im hurt
I will no longer look to your comfort
You were my best friend
I thought it would have no end
But now, it’s come to one
Ill never let you call me Hun
You tried to give me a ring
But now, back to you will I bring the retched ring
Now, with my tears blocking my sight
My soul will take its final flight
It’ll fly to you to get my heart
Every single last broken part
Ill never forget you, my first lasting forever
And a day will I be cursed with what? Your memories
But im a Aquarius and you’re a Aries
Not a match made in heaven
The days will only last up to seven
Look, I never want or meant to hurt you
But I can’t just make do with you
You hurt me without realizing it
You messed with the bulldog and got bit
I thought I was in heaven but was in hell
At first, I thought you thought so as well
But now, the truth has caught up to us
And because of it, I had to stop before it got any worse
And thus, I told you this, but I don’t want to hurt you
All I feel now is just a deep blue
All around me, my world has come crashing down and id kill to exchange this frown.
I would have even set aside my beloved crown at one point just to make you happy, and I hate to disappoint but, I made you a promise that I must keep so, from me you wont hear another peep
You can live your life away from mine and your love, ill have to decline.