Long Deep within Poems
Long Deep within Poems. Below are the most popular long Deep within by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Deep within poems by poem length and keyword.
F-ill your heart with joy,
E-cstasy and pure pleasure;
L-et great gladness lessen
Y-our anxiety and pressure.
C-ram your mind with mirth,
R-apture and excitement;
I-nteresting celebration
S-eems to be so nice event.
O-nce you're charged with joy,
L-ife of you becomes better;
O-pen your eyes to behold
G-ray clouds shall be
O-ver.
A-ugust eleventh early morn,
B-eautiful day has broken;
A-fter the night is gone,
S-ky's bright in seventh heaven.
T-housand thrill is placed
I-nside you, deep within;
L-et the priceless delight
L-ive in your heart so often.
A-side from the frown, loneliness cannot annoy;
S-imply because of euphoria, filling your heart with joy.
Speak Soft
Speak soft- a generational shift
The experienced age versus foolish youth
A war waged between generations
For one side has lived through life
Endured hardships and mistakes
But the other simply ignores wisdom
Speak soft- here today, gone tomorrow
The dove was flying so high yesterday
But now roosts with a broken wing
Speak soft- words of hate are like knives
Drenched with acid and poison
And once the knife cuts
There is no way to repair the damage
Speak soft- A demonic image hides an Angel
It's always a golden heart that endures the worst
But the worst brings out the best
Speak soft- the world continues to turn unaware that
Tragedy strikes deep within your heart
Speak soft- even concrete can hide a diamond
If one puts forth the effort necessary to mine
Indifferent one day; in tears the next day
Speak soft- care for those who care for you
I am the ghost inside my chest,
Unseen, unheard, yet never at rest.
I drift through halls of memory,
Where joy once lived but fled from me.
My breath like frost, my blood runs cold,
A whisper trapped in hands grown old.
I wear regret like funeral lace,
And see the world through sorrow’s face.
The mirror knows what I conceal—
A heart too numb, a pain too real.
Each beat, a knock from deep within,
A past that scratches at my skin.
I haunt my name, I haunt my days,
A soul lost in time’s cruel haze.
They think I smile, but cannot see
The grave I built inside of me.
But still I ache, though silence wins,
To feel the sun beneath my sins.
For ghosts can hope—though dim, suppressed—
To one day find peace at last.
Thee Mister Re: Spouse...
In summer re: aye cannot whet till
this husbandry season will become
fallow - mare riddle status no longer
honeymoon bridal stage covenant,
nuttin boot lame game of worm aye
go win round robin, since empty nest
syndrome grounded, nee pulverized
papa's purposefulness eschewing
attending, babying, pampering...
dependent wife, she relies on yours truly
for emotional, financial, grammatical
succor unwittingly spearheading self
driven sequestration deep within invisible
hermetically sealed catacombs resigning
remaining decades as recluse getting
linkedin with anchoress named Miss Ann
Thrope, a humble herbalist sustaining
ourselves foraging ample edible native
plants prepared within subterranean hearth
bubbling cauldron issuing delectable aromas
aural accompaniment evoke structures of
silence, neither me nor t'other cohabitant
violating unspoken transgressions nomad
dear ain't no authoritarian entity dispensing,
donning, trumpeting commands, nonetheless
each of us experiences far greater safety,
versus bajillion manned armed force on outlook
for good n plenti interlopers, how heavenly
this rudimentary Shangri la devoid of madding
crowds, no cumbersome technological trappings
daylight natural firelight to scratch out musings
pure unbridled satisfaction emanating reading
and listening in turn as envisioned, imagined,
and lionized hushed murmurs signaling
enjoyment (mimicked courtesy aural exhalation)
as Gaia appeased wafting warm breeze
across each our respective brows, this hermit
ensconced within his kingdom aware figment of
his fancy crafted idyllic refuge empowered by
meditation evoking compatible soul mate merely
generated by auto suggestion illusory
manifestation a lifelike dream.
Deep within the twinkling
clouds lies Toylandia, a
magical island where toys
come alive.
Teddy bears wear tiny
golden crowns and dance
with beautiful, glittering fairy
dolls.
Toy trains chug along tracks
made of rainbow strawberry
licorice, blowing bubbles into
the blueberry sky.
Every morning, colorful
plastic blocks build
themselves into magnificent,
soaring castles.
Friendly dinosaur toys gently
carry smiling children across
rivers of sweet chocolate milk.
The trees are made of green
cotton candy, sprouting shiny
marbles and bouncy balls.
At night, soft wind- up music
boxes play a gentle, soothing
lullaby to the stars.
No batteries are ever needed
here, for pure imagination
powers the whole land.
The toys gather around a
warm campfire, sharing
happy stories and eating
marshmallow clouds.
It is a wonderful place of
endless playtime, where the
fun never, ever stops.
I am at odds with this world
bearing ill will towards all,
There’s a moral outrage brewing
in me that I’m unable to constrain.
It’s like I am on a crusade to
right the wrongs of modern society
and punish those responsible.
To exact revenge on those who
have soiled the fabric of society.
Unbeknownst to me,
this seething resentment
is raging deep within my soul
towards the self-serving society—
This unabashed hedonistic wasteful culture,
indifferent to the plights of the downtrodden,
Pursuing pleasure and good life while
the populace at large die of hunger.
Some people wallow in luxury and extravagance--
They hoard, they feast, they overindulge,
unconcerned with the plight of multitude living in
squalid condition deprived of basic human needs.
Yeah, there’s a rage within me
and I am hell bent
on smacking the world down.
There’re people in it who are evil and deceitful,
Selfish, corrupt, arrogant, marauders
and self-indulgent thugs.
I like to put them in a chokehold and
squeeze the life out of this egotistical lot.
Lord, it’s time to unleash upon the world,
The Four Horsemen of Apocalypse!
~09/21/21
~Contest: "O" (Outrage)
~Sponsor: Constance La France
When relationships face
an uphill slog and bike's
battery is flat as well,
take on the four spokes
real deal, bespoken.
The first to speak is 'what'.
What is it, that makes you
want to shout out such abuse?
Describe it in a 'matter of fact' way,
in a single simple explicit sentence.
The second to speak is 'meant'.
What does this misdemeanor mean to you?
What are the consequences
in the tragic story-line, and scream play's script?
The third to speak is 'felt'.
How did it make you feel as the wheel turned?
What did the gravel scrape of tires reveal?
Did it make you feel less happy, sad,
frustrated, demeaned, misunderstood,
left hanging in the lurch, besmirched in some way,
belittled and bemoaned, unfairly ignored, left out perhaps?
Lay your raw emotions out on your sleeve,
revealed to be how they make you feel, deep within your being.
The fourth to speak is 'move on'.
How do you suggest we move on, to get the wheel
turning again, to recharge the battery,
and face the hill climb together.
How can we get all four spokes back in shape,
back in place, all four in turn bespoken.
'what', 'meant', 'felt', 'move on'!
'I think I can', 'I think I can'.
'What', 'meant', 'felt', 'move on'!
meant
|
|
what----|----felt
|
|
move on
Lost and alone, I fell on my knees
Left all my pride
Replaced it with humility
Humble and contrite, I cried
For the One who knows me
Fills my heart with light
And He came down
From His home on high
Left His royal throne
To fill my heart with love
He came down
And I was lifted high
Above the sins and sadness
Into glorious gladness
Lost and alone, I couldn’t struggle on
When He came into my heart
Filled me up with joy and hope
Struck my soul with reverence
Delight that glowed deep within
Relieving sorrows and ridding me of sin
He came down
And I was lifted high
Above the sins and sadness
Into glorious gladness
He came down
And I was lifted high
I was lifted high
I was lifted high
Strips of being here are drawn all over you, fine lines intertwining with your skin,
It is not within the whites of dainty skies to praise who you are,
I hope you don't hide the only thing that makes you, you,
That unique spark, that fire burning deep within your soul.
The black mark curving down to your collarbones remembers the anguish you scrubbed off,
It is not an abyss's purpose to make you love staying,
I hope you don't die as someone you don't know, don't lose yourself in the cloak of a foreign identity.
On an endless night, with stars like ink dots on an ancient parchment,
I think of you, of the fragile strips that contour your being,
Of every line that tells your battles and victories,
Of the shadows dancing on your skin, echoes of a tumultuous past.
When the wind wanders through the leaves of old trees,
I feel your presence like a sad melody, a symphony of a lost soul,
And I wonder if you'll ever find peace in those shadows,
If you'll learn to embrace those black marks not as a burden, but as badges of honor.
In the labyrinth of your mind, where every thought is a dark corner,
I carry the hope that you won't get lost in the unfathomable depths,
That you won't be seduced by the abyss's call, won't dissolve into its silence,
That you'll find yourself, in all your splendor, in all your vulnerability.
Your soul, a wandering ship on emerald seas,
Floating among waves of thoughts and emotions,
Seeking a lighthouse, a guiding light to bring you home,
To a port where you can reveal your true essence, without fear, without a mask.
And perhaps, one day, when the sky is white again,
You'll dare to show the world that spark, that fire burning within you,
You'll understand that you are not defined by the black marks, but by the way you carry them,
That you are an entire universe, full of stars and constellations, and that every strip of you is a chapter in a magical story.
Never hide, never lose yourself,
Live as who you are, love what you are,
In this world of shadows and lights, of dainty whites and dark abysses,
Always find your way back to yourself, never forget who you are.
Stop sleeping on yourself
Nothing come to a sleeper
But a dream
You keep your head up
No matter how hard it seems
Go ahead and push through
I meant your dreams
Everyone have something unique and special
About themselves
Pull it out of you
Its deep within
Cant keep it all in
You are a giant you just gentle
You are needed
Supplemental
Stop sleeping on yourself
You are worth it
Even to those who dont care
Stop sleeping
Its true
Stop sleeping on you
I woke up with purpose
I woke up on time
The Lord said
Concetta I gave you light
Now shine
Dont let anyone dull your sparkle
Or dim your light
You are going to be alright
You got confidence bring it
You have a vision i seen it
You had a dream
And dreamed it
You have a dope personality
Your ethics are good
You will accomplish everything
That you should
Stop sleeping on yourself
You are worth it
Even to those who dont care
Stop sleeping
Its true
Stop sleeping on you
Stop stressing
Get ready for your ?? blessing
(Repeat 1x)
Stop sleeping on yourself
You are worth it
Even to those who dont care
Stop sleeping
Its true
Stop sleeping on you
(Repeat until chorus fades )
Written by
Concetta Hardnett
05/03/2026