Long Drew Poems
Long Drew Poems. Below are the most popular long Drew by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Drew poems by poem length and keyword.
I’m lost in your eyes
Tired of all the when’s and why’s
I’m tired of trying to figure you out
I’m tired of you never having anything to talk about
I’m sick of your ways and your abuse
So I am permanently going to cut you loose
Everything you told me were all just lies
I’m finally cutting all of my ties
I’m tired of being tortured from your ways
I’m tired of not finding you in this impossible maze
I was stupid for believing your thoughts
Of all we shared and how now we’re not
The end of my universe is coming near
Only difference now is you’ll never be here
It doesn’t matter to you how hard I tried
You wouldn’t noticed if I just fell over and died
I designed this poem to remind myself
Of when I was with you, I was loosing my health
Your words are just fake anyways
Of untold mysteries and dreary days
You don’t acknowledge the fact that I am here
You don’t care if I cry these tears
You don’t notice I’m sick as hell
But your only thoughts are, “oh well,”
You don’t care about what I’ve sacrificed for you
You apparently can’t handle that I’m true
But keep in mind that no one will kiss you like me
Keep in mind no one will see you like I see
Keep in mind no one will hug you the same
Keep in mind that you’re the only one to blame
Keep in mind no one can talk to you like I do
Keep in mind that I already knew
I knew you used me for what I was worth
Even after I was willing to give you my Earth
Keep in mind that I’m not blind
Keep in mind someone else I’ll eventually find
You’re replaceable just like the others
Don’t believe me, ask my mother
Even she knew that you were phony and fake
And even she knew that you were a big mistake
I’m so happy I’m here and not with you
But also know that this blueprint you drew
You made your bed and laid in your grave
You eliminated yourself in a dampened cave
But you still didn’t quite get under my skin
Because if you did, you’d be the won who would win
But I still didn’t lie and I still didn’t cheat
So some other girl can go ahead and re-reserve my seat
I’m just glad I didn’t give you my all
Because if I did, I knew soon after you would make me fall...
I
Seated in a bray were three friends,
On chair,pavement,aisle did they fill.
Merrying,hopping,sharing their advice,
Like the hopping daffodils does in the
hay.
But a languorous serendipity perchanc'd,
And the three in decisions advanc'd.
Sadness to the utmost flew,
Joy opposite in decision yet in the land
drew.
While strife beneath the earth dived,
Making the three friends in separation
thrived.
Life seem'd vague when they unity despised,
And they all did in love's isolation lay.
With no hope of boosted liveliness,
All were bethrot'd to weariness.
II
Then came a fearful bright dawn,
Strecth'd wide in the sky like unto a lawn.
Sadness pierc'd her eyes through the sun,
It seem'd natures plotted against her.
Then said she unto herself like unto a
'street dancer',
Bellowing deep towards the shadow
'mancer'.
"I'll arise and return to joy,
That we along with strife will by unity
coil".
Then she arose and edged to joy her way,
That if she be not in the land then she'll in
the bray.
From afar Joy point'd her gaze like unto a
gun,
With " Is that not sadness...?",laying in
mouth her.
Then she dashed into her arm with
her in her sight,
And both did all their predicaments
recite.
III
The Nightingale often mock'd strife,
"Plumpy belly,disgusting snout", in
Nightingale lies.
Her atmosphere scolded her heartily,
That she ev'n in her dreams dwelt wearily.
Then she too rethink to revisit aged folks,
To at least enchant logs of pending talks.
And if by help they can bail him out,
" If Joy won't,Sadness will";She thought.
Then she picked her way towards Joy
abode,
And for hours she in anxiety rode.
A mile ahead,her eyes sensed steadily,
All in each sight, the three again met
merrily.
And again in the bray were the
three;
But can these really be?
In early eighteen-forty-four,
In Cornwall’s heart; on Bodmin Moor,
Charlotte Dymond, a young farm maid,
Had her throat slit with a steel blade,
She crossed fast streams and deadly bogs,
Found her way through mists and fogs,
But couldn’t stop that fatal blow,
That stole her life and laid her low,
She walked to meet someone that day,
Just who that was ... no one would say,
Found days later beside a track,
Laid on a cart; her shroud a sack,
The surgeon, Thomas Good, was fetched,
Had in his mind, her white face etched,
Charlotte untouched by fox or crow,
Had she been moved ... he did not know,
No evidence was ever found,
But her young boyfriend had gone to ground,
Fingers so quick to point his way,
Matthew Weeks panicked; ran away,
The hapless cripple, was soon caught,
No other culprit was ever sought,
The judge was just a rubber-stamp,
Bodmin Gaol was dark and damp,
The scaffold built, the crowds arrived,
Matthew swore he had not lied,
The floor gave way, the rope drew tight,
Was justice done ... the verdict right?
Had been off school all week, just got over a cold.
Its Friday, so Mum put going back to school on hold.
Stormy outside and thunder clouds were about to form,
But in winter Mum kept the house cozy and warm,
Bored, nothing much to do, had played with all my toys,
Wished I could be playing with all the other little boys.
"I know" said Mum, "lets put a cake in the oven to bake,
Then I will show you how to make a super milkshake."
The cake was cooking and two glasses were on the shelf.
She got the chocolate and I got the milk all by myself.
So I lifted the bottle, but it did more than just tilt.
Over the floor was a huge pond of creamy white milk.
Mum looked at me and saw that I was about to cry.
“Lets have some fun” said she with a wink of her eye.
She handed me the squirter of thick chocolate sauce.
“Let’s make pictures then we’ll clean it up of course”
With chocolate sauce I drew a big dog, she drew a cat.
Two fine artists making pictures on the floor we sat.
She created a perfect memory for me that very day.
One that I cherish and in my mind will always stay.
These days Mum is keeping everyone warm in heaven,
And now I am a man I remember that day when I was 7
I remember her sweet hands were as soft as silk
And she taught me never to cry over spilled milk.
there's something in the eyes
that hide the truth;
i saw the sun rise today,
a red passion kissing the lake
as reflection's of the day rolled along.
i could feel the stillness of easterly breezes
as my own breath struggled to fall, yellow,
within whispers of my own consciousness;
the trees stood close together,
shadows of tomorrow's promise,
if tomorrow were to come.
i could see beyond the reflection,
the depths of night, as it waited,
patiently on the edge of day,
as if it were a mind.
my own mind twisted its way along,
stillness was something it hated,
but always seemed to find.
i remember, standing, less tall than the trees,
anguished red, but yellow between thoughts,
watching as you drew your last breath,
seeing you rise, like day, then surrender,
like a shadow to night,
knowing, myself, that tomorrow
would never come again.
i still see this today,
in the lake's reflection,
as i did in yours that day,
and i see it in my own,
it's the horizon of one's mind
that draws the fine line
between past and future,
day and night,
life and death,
yet, there's something in the eyes
that hides the truth, no one cares to see,
yet i see, one last time, all fall still.
He came and dwelt among men
And shared a vision of heav'n;
To Him some opened their doors,
But more denied their favors.
With sinners He sat and supped;
Thus, others called Him corrupt.
But they did not understand:
He changed their hearts with His hand.
He walked and taught in byways
And always with gentle gaze;
Some gladly took His offer,
Others remained a scoffer.
Still He sought those who were lost,
Those who felt were tempest-tossed.
He healed the sick--gave them hope!--
Granted them the strength to cope.
He knew He had few days left
And sorrowed for those bereft;
In His heart, He put us first--
Both good and bad and the worst.
In spite of His love so clear,
We pierced His side with a spear.
Then as He drew His last breath,
For us all He conquered Death.
April 6, 2023
Write a Jueju-Qijue Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
I remember when youth felt forever,
for I didn't understand grown-up things.
And I spent all of my time playing games,
dreaming of magical dragons with wings.
Yet in the blink of an eye my life changed,
with a glancing gentle touch of her hand.
For I felt feelings never felt before,
it was serendipitous, nothing planned.
It was like a veil suddenly lifted,
what was once invisible, became clear.
And I noticed the beauty of her eyes,
followed by her shy smile that drew me near.
I felt compelled to try and steal a kiss,
for passion's burning flame had ignited.
Yet my heart was beating frantically,
fearing my move may not be invited.
I decide to throw caution to the wind,
take a gamble and pursue my sweet prize.
For despite the hopes of a clumsy teen,
love chooses the moment innocence dies.
She warmly welcomed my impromptu kiss,
moaning passionately as our lips met.
And I instantly knew we'd wed, it’s been
forty years and she hasn't left me yet.
The Apple of His Eyes
reflected in the pond, the fruit
held precious in the lady’s hand.
polished by mistake; the loot
gathered with a serpentine backhand.
the limbs of oz took hold, as
the man held out his unwise hand.
the cleaved, in juicy bite pizazz,
forsook their love, served up bland.
reflected in the mirror, the duo’s tears
shattered their perfect life, untouched.
day after day, the wrinkles rage; fears
of losing one another; their hearts’ clutched.
discovery of their nakedness, a shock.
they tried to cover up with leaves of fig;
not good enough. Like a bomb, time’s ticktock.
God slaughtered, clothed them with a sacrifice, not a sprig.
apple looked so luscious, and to have knowledge
seemed so precious; Adam and Eve drew a curtain
between themselves and the Creator (his foreknowledge).
Every other fruit, not denied; with a bite death was certain.
Indeed, their eyes were opened, to shame, shamelessly.
Terror of the darkness, made their pupils expand.
But they couldn’t take paradise back. Carelessly
they acted recklessly, now all generations in bad land.
Oh, but the LOVE of GOD, all seeds are the apple
of His eyes. We don’t understand the suffering.
Whys in abundance, feeling sorry for ourselves chapel.
All along a plan - of scourge, betrayal, and crucified buffering.
To justify, to mediate, to keep us from the Father’s wrath,
the Son of Man, descended from heaven; a babe in flesh.
Look at the bronze snake on the tree, the sign, His path.
Healing symbolized, realized by the final sacrifice thresh.
I met him on a glowing screen,
A voice, a name, a face unseen.
He said I was special, called me sweet,
I wanted him, couldn’t turn away.
I said no, I drew my line,
But he smiled, said it was fine.
I wanted him anyway, I let it slide,
I felt the thrill I couldn’t hide.
He said the words I longed to hear,
Made kindness sound so real, so near.
I wanted warmth, I wanted care,
But he was never really there.
A year of talking, nights that never slept,
I shared my world, secrets I had kept.
I gave my trust, held nothing back,
He took it all, left me off track.
Maybe he liked that I believed,
Every lie that he conceived.
He smiled while pulling me apart,
Then left the wreckage of my heart.
Did he really love me, or just the thrill?
I scroll through old messages, caught so still.
He’s gone, unadded, yet I still chase,
The memory of wanting, the empty trace.
Sometimes I cry, short bursts alone,
I scroll through memories I’ve always known.
I wanted him, the pull I couldn’t disown,
A mix of desire and the flaws he’s shown.
Weeks pass and I can’t stop thinking,
Every thought of him keeps my heart sinking.
I still want him, I can’t walk away,
The pull won’t fade, it stays every day.
You're a miserable woman. So what does that make me?
I tore you to pieces verbally
and enjoyed every moment savoringly.
You beat me Sylvia, aka Stephanie.
You helped to push yours truly to the dark side permanently.
You best pray Sylvia, aka Stephanie
that the day never comes when you and I will meet.
You think I'm joking? I'm stalking you presently,
so you best inform your local law about yours truly
and then perhaps they'll grant you some protective custody
because the day will come Sylvia, aka Stephanie
when you'll awaken from unconsciousness
and the first and last face you'll ever see
will be mine to take with you forever for all eternity.
Bet you wish now that you never crossed paths with me
but it's too late for that now Sylvia, aka Stephanie.
Your pathetic miserable life now belongs to me.
Anyone care to see a photo of MS Drew (Sylvia, aka Stephanie)?
By the way, Sylvia, aka Stephanie is not her real first name obviously
and I won't reveal her actual first name for any of you to see
because MS Drew has made many an enemy
and I want to assure that the first one she encounters is yours truly.
MS Drew's photo (Sylvia, aka Stephanie) is in my blog photo gallery (Photo # 15)
One last warning to you MS Drew
I have your home address and home and cell phone number too
and I'll share it with the world if you force me to.
MS Drew was defeated. She wasn't a worthy contender.
The day eventually came when MS Drew surrendered.
Sylvia's Surrender
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=213527