Long Erodes Poems
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Don't take each other for granted — forgetting to say thank you or show appreciation for the little things erodes relationships over time.
Will we allow our love to be its best?
By Michelle Morris
12/06/2026
I remember when
You used to bring me flowers
I remember when
We used to talk for hours
And I understand it
Relationships need to get comfortable
But sometimes we forget about
How over time we become vulnerable
Because we need to remember
That we're in this together
We need to show appreciation
We need to be the calm in stormy weather
Ultimately, we're a team
Ultimately, we are tested
Will we stick together?
Will we allow our love to be its best?
I don't expect flowers
But flowers would be nice
I do expect a partner
I'm more than just a wife
I appreciate that we're comfortable
But we need to remember each other
Show gratitude for the blessings
For our relationship and love
Because the missed please and thank yous
The missed appreciation and gratitude
It all erodes relationships
It creates a divide between me and you
Because we need to remember
That we're in this together
We need to show appreciation
We need to be the calm in stormy weather
Ultimately, we're a team
Ultimately, we are tested
Will we stick together?
Will we allow our love to be its best?
So, let's remember the little things
And let them grow in all the best ways
Our hearts entwined forever
Love and light and grace
© Michelle Morris, 2026
I look into the mirror wondering where the time has gone
I see only a shell of myself, It really hadn’t been that long Just tired bones and achy feet that barely shuffle around
The years have been mighty rough on the top side of the ground
But I have memories of faded years, filled with many a scheme
Don’t tell me even as broke down as I am, that I’m too old to dream
Why, I’ve had a life of dreams that I managed to bring into the fold
More adventures and pleasures and the memories are untold
One experience after another that years can never erase
And many tried to defeat me, more than I care to face
The thief of time has stolen my days, like a river erodes the land
It has worn down my hopes and torn away my plans
My body has forsaken me so, on the past I must lean
Though the snares of life block my way
Am I too old to dream?
42
When an Angel Cries
Do you know when an Angel cries?
When it hurts so badly that tears fill their eyes?
There from on high
They can only wonder as to why
They can feel that familiar ache of the coming pain
Then the Angel's tears begin fall like rain
They see the lover's heart begins to break under the strain
As the Angel's tears fall praying for the betrayal to refrain
It too often begins with those little white lies
That's when bit by bit trust erodes and true love slowly dies
Because of those tiny things you should never say
To hide the wrongs done to your love in some way
Had you only thought, you knew it was going to hurt, and bad too
But in that moment of weakness there were only thoughts of you
And the heavenly host of Angle's cries
And it happens too often when love, the most important thing, dies
Life teaches many a valuable truth,
That makes our existence one of worth.
Graying and growing old is no curse,
As experience directs life’s course.
See life as a mysterious puzzle,
And death as an inexorable struggle.
Know, hatred burns life like fire,
And wickedness turns it into mire.
On Earth, forgiveness bonds hearts
But revenge, sure, every bond thwarts
Even the guilty falls prostrate,
Before those willing to commiserate.
Know, a true friend has no deceit,
And a truly learned has no conceit.
If jealousy is an acid which erodes,
Generosity is a fuel that reloads.
If inactivity is akin to death,
Creativity is vital as breath.
If perseverance conquers mountains
Laziness dries up fountains.
While pride leads a man to his fall
Humility takes him closer to his goal.
While Honesty leads him to salvation
Deceit drives him to damnation.
Patience is an inexhaustible well,
And perversion, a sure road to hell.
Know, those who long for the crown,
Should also be torn by the thorn.
While love of God takes us to eternity,
Love of man leads us to fraternity.
With such priceless tips learned in bits,
Let us light up our life in glowing glitz.
May we bury our past with all its blues,
As each morn of hope brightly blooms!
May. 6. 2023
~ Placed First~
Couplet Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Sotto Poet
Fearless
I have often sat and pondered
And all of this was justified
About a concept that eludes me
And believe me, I have tried
Yes I’ve tried to understand it
And the question still is ’why?’
If I think a little longer
I might even start to cry
For the feelings it awakens
Make me sad and fearful too
If this torturing continues
I will know not what to do
Call it sadness or dejection
Call it whatever word you may
Either way it is burden
I would gladly throw away
It erodes my self-assurance
It attacks my self-esteem
I am losing my composure
There’s so much I should redeem
But my mind just keeps rewinding
Though my thoughts remain the same
They are stuck, not even flinching
They are glued within their frame
I agree that I’m a victim
Of sheer gloominess, and true
I would love to point a finger
But I don’t know to what and who
But deep inside my inner being
I have found an ounce of pluck
I will start a stiff resistance
And I am fearless, wish me luck!
Wendy Nipas
Here on earth and in the universe,
there are many natural cycles
in the inanimate world.
Day passes to night, then to day, then to night.
The seasons come and go as they have always done.
Rivers erode their landscapes to rejig their floodplain sinuosity.
It rains, water evaporates into clouds, then it rains again.
The sea erodes and restores the margin of its shores.
Cyclones, fires, volcanoes, floods and climate shifts
make profound changes in the environment,
which is resilient in adapting to the endless change.
But what of life here on Planet Water?
What of its fatal, and fateful dilemma?
To be or Not to be.
To live, die or recycle adapting to change
in climate, its competitors, its habitat and its environs.
Why did the existence of life begin?
Where did it come from?
Why did it come to be?
What drives its existence to recycle
and be so determined to survive and better itself
in the survival of the fittest among kin,
or among the dog eat dog life forms with which it competes?
Life is relentless, powerful, resilient to survive.
Why is it so? What drives it to be?
Each individual's life is mortal and limited.
But the species drives its survival with
fecund procreation,
in the endless cycle to be
an everlasting being here.
To be, and not to become
a not to be.
Some are born to carry shadows in their bones—
to know the weight of stones
uninvited visitors throw.
We are soldiers in a war with no front lines,
an army of one
navigating minefields,
exploding bombs inside our minds.
We live in nightmares dressed as ordinary days,
chasing peace through smoke and haze
while hope erodes like shoreline
beneath relentless waves.
The armor we bear is heavier than lead—
each plate hammered from a scar,
each rivet driven through the tender parts
we've learned to guard.
Tears descend in silent streams:
salt trails mapping territories of pain.
Trauma swallows us in waves—
pulling us under, again,
again—
until we learn to breathe
in the spaces between drowning.
Memories cling like winter frost
to window glass,
distorting everything we see.
They haunt the corners where light fails,
cruel melodies on endless repeat:
the songs life demands
we learn by heart.
Do you see me?
I see you—
the same fractured mirror,
the same shattered view.
But still—
In the caverns of my darkest days,
in the marrow-deep ache of surviving,
I find a strange and tender grace:
a gift the light-touched never claim.
This appreciation blooms
in soil where others see only decay—
I notice what they hurry past:
the way dawn breaks on broken things,
how shadows teach the light to dance,
the fierce beauty of a body
that refuses to surrender,
the sacred weight of second chances.
Even as I grow bone-weary,
even as I break and bleed,
I see extraordinary beauty
hidden from those who've never grieved—
The silver veining through the cracks.
The strength in things that bend, not break.
The way the wounded recognize each other
across crowded rooms:
a glance, a nod—
the silent language of survival.
The poetry in what we had to forsake.
This beauty rolls in with the seasons,
then away with winter's breath—
fleeting, precious, sharp as sorrow,
intimate as life and death.
We who carry melancholy
see what joy alone cannot:
the full spectrum of existence,
the terrible beauty we've been taught
by suffering,
by surviving,
by singing through the pain.
We are the ones who know
that breaking open
is how the light gets in—
That the cracks are not the ending
but the place
where we begin.
Donning the fields
Where I've never been
Where I've never streaked
Like a reckless charge skating on dandelions,
Unbridled thrill and the promise
That happiness may not get louder than this
The sun and wind
My guests for the day
Taking it in
From the luxury suites
In the celestial rafters
Gracious for the burnt offerings, clemency and salvation
That my love provides
These visions preserve a flavor of sanity
Rare in the hallowed ground
Beneath my everyday feet
First blip, then trip
As the journey embarks
Lifted to frissons
That reside among the barley shafts
That play among silky hairs of the wind's coiffure
There
Joy never sleeps
Astonishment acts as espresso
To joy's susceptible veins
Filled with fascination and jitters
Suitable for adrenaline's best days
Horizons cease to exist
Depth perception erodes
When you are now as close as you are far away
Meaning starts and ends have no middles
The reason why you bothered at all.
(2/7/11)
Your timing, O God, is flawless, they say,
Mercy spills from Your eternal edge.
I cling to that truth, yearning for solace,
Yet it slips as I bleed through the years.
Woes swarm like static, sharp with insult,
Words that cut, leaving a thousand wounds.
Will You, my Maker, cradle me close,
When tears and fragments are all I am?
If pain is a teacher, why is wisdom stalled?
Tears fall freely, but insight won’t rise.
I surrender—heart, mind, my tangled mess—
Yet fear grips tight, numbing my bones.
Your spring of life should mend my soul,
But dread chokes me, a fist at my throat.
Poverty pins me to cold concrete floors,
Your blessings distant, just out of reach.
Why speak of heights my dim eyes can’t see,
Of glow beyond the grave’s heavy veil?
I need bread now, not tales of endless joy.
Hunger drowns whispers of paradise unseen.
You warn of fires below, yet I’m already scorched,
Melting in trials You’ve allowed to unfold.
This whirl of letdowns, this haze of scorn.
Where I am lost to another world to mourn.
You promised a land of milk and peace,
Where grace alone runs deep and free.
But I stand empty, hollowed by grief,
grief my only weight ,sinking deeper.
Your silence erodes my faltering faith,
Your waiting, a detour some devils plan
If Your mercy is real, God, find me now—
Before that path lead me to the murky pit.
The broccolis in the forest,
Which make air to breathe,
They show their green feathers
That stem out of their sheath.
Fruits in our appetizers
Fragrance from their flowers
They work for our best
In how they influence showers.
Although their help is immense
We still cut them down.
We burn them for our fireplaces
And they continue to frown.
Soil erodes from places
As floods come sweeping in.
If we don't use common sense
Our end will be seen.
As always has existed
There is a solution to this.
We shouldn’t cut them down
But should plant more of these.
We should treat them as our own
For they are kind and giving.
Let’s all get unified
To get the broccolis smiling.