Long Exes Poems
Long Exes Poems. Below are the most popular long Exes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Exes poems by poem length and keyword.
I am a Victim,
Lured by mascara, and by a pretext piety
Induced through lust by immoral vermin
I am a Victim
Blindfold through cunnings to fest on a plowed field,
“Whore scammed”, trapped in a net by the conspiracy of a blemished womanhood
I am a Victim,
Decoyed through the bait of an illusion to nurse the wound of another.
Oh! The Desdemona from whose path I avoided avowal
I am a victim,
Of marriage in Freetown, the offer of credit in dowry.
And the sharer chokes hastily by licentious and libidinous overwhelm.
I am a Victim,
Of a venomous revenge of a late marriage,
The brunt, the consequence of many abandoned lovers lurking still to watch my shame.
I am a victim,
Hauled from far off climes to be used, dumped after use
Suspended in the gale to fulfil an ambition.
I am a victim,
Of a clandestine unanimity of an unbroken vow,
Lust feigned for friendship dictates and plotted through covert text, my fall their aim
I am a victim
Of the conspiracy of “Exes” plotted by the bed lure,
Of hasty overturn to conceal the fraud by a blinded jury
I am a victim,
Defrauded, demonized, humiliated and ridiculed.
A bespectacled gargoyle masked the visages in the loss
I am a victim
They couldn't find in this clime, but must take a trip to seek,
and by secret oath through the court, concealed from affinity save one
I am a victim,
Semen sapped by a desperation to escape a stigma of nature,
And a sorrowing reflection of an impostor on my innocent seed
I am a victim
By revenges of many woes, still waited to plow on a stranger’s lap
Whose seed was taken through anger for mere gain,
I am a victim,
Bore the spatter of grim loss to a burying place and have since never ceased
I am a victim
Of this highest ambition in the vanity fair,
Ousted when a sincere investment was well worn by trickery
I am a victim
of their jeer, of a collective calumny of their bed tattling
of the usurping of fatherhood, of their banter and this grim gaunt wearied
I am a victim,
A reflective victim of conscience.
Of a story not fully told
I give up...
I give up on being someone’s everything
while becoming nothing to myself.
I give up on offering my throat
to people who only know how to bite.
I give up on pouring into someone
who never learned how to pour back.
I give up on what I mistook for love.
I give up...
I give up on empty words
spoken beautifully
and lived carelessly.
I give up on proving I am worthy
while being dismissed in the middle of my suffering.
I give up on mistaking promises
for proof they would stay.
I give up on pretty words
dressed up like change.
I give up...
I give up on people who become everything
they swore they were not.
I give up on “I’m not like your exes”
when the ending looks exactly the same.
I give up on excusing harm
because someone else is hurting.
I give up on loving who they could be
instead of who they actually are.
I give up...
I give up on being the emotional hospital
for someone who never learned how to sit in one.
I give up on becoming a place
where people leave their pain.
I give up on being the therapist,
the caretaker,
the anchor,
the servant,
the bandage,
the house,
or the stand-in parent.
I give up on becoming the villain
whenever their story needs one.
I give up...
I give up on being someone’s proof
that true love exists.
I give up on being shown why they never found it.
I give up on being left at my lowest
after carrying someone through theirs.
I give up on being told I deserve the world
by someone who would not offer me peace.
I give up on shrinking
just to keep someone else comfortable.
I give up on hanging the moon
for someone who would not light a candle for me.
I give up...
"Never Again."
Not for anyone.
Quote: “It is difficult to say what is impossible, for the dream of yesterday is the hope of today and the reality of tomorrow.” -- Robert H. Goddard
Oh, yesterday, the tales we're told,
In our youth's stories, pure and bold,
With friends close by, we danced and swayed,
In the innocence of yesterday.
Sibling interactions, mischief and fun,
A shared journey under the same sun,
Through laughter and fights, love would grow,
A bond that only siblings truly know.
Mother's love, a guiding light so pure,
Her warmth and care, forever endure,
Father's strength, a pillar standing tall,
Their love surrounding us through it all.
School teachers, mentors with hearts of gold,
Their knowledge and guidance, a story untold,
Nurturing minds, igniting a flame,
In the pursuit of knowledge, they proclaim.
Football and cricket, games we'd play,
The rituals we'd follow, every day,
From the team huddles to victory cheers,
United in passion, erasing all fears.
In the glimpses of the past, reflections appear,
A happy life, a nest we built, so dear,
But now it stands empty, lovebird flown away,
I dwell in the past, searching for love gone astray.
In the depths of my heart, I seek solace and peace,
But the pain of lost love refuses to cease,
Night falls upon me, exes in sight,
Trying to lure my love with no hope in sight.
With a heavy heart, I realize the truth,
Dwelling in the past brings more pain to soothe,
So I bid farewell to the memories that bind,
And embrace the present, leaving the past behind.
Clyde went to London to get the best hat.
His note to his wife was swept under a mat.
He was missing for a week, but not a day more.
He came home by train, arrived a quarter ‘til four.
Behatted by the best of them
Clyde was astonished when Old Jim
Told him “beheaded” is what he’d heard.
His funeral was held on the twenty-third.
Attended by his wife and four exes.
Some were mad and gave him hexes.
Child support was now a debt of the past.
Clyde ‘got out of town in a plane, high class.
He bought a ranch, a home, horse, and cow.
Spending money would be much easier now.
Met a lovely lady named Fertile Gwen
Making child support payments once again.
Suicide rates in men are far higher than in women. Men thinking of suicide feel worthless and useless. As much as we cannot change someone or how they choose to feel and react to situations, we can treat everyone with dignity, respect and kindness.
This poem was inspired by a famous comedian who I deeply appreciate. He took his own life. A similar theme often runs through the lives of those who smile, laugh and joke. They hide a lot of unexpressed pain.
Please take care and stay safe.
Funniest man
By Michelle Morris
09/12/2022
Walk into a room
And light it up
Become the funniest man
To walk the Earth
Hide all those demons
When you're on the stage
Tamper down all the hurt
And all the rage
Somewhere there's
An attorney waiting for you
He's calculating profits
What your exes are due
Keep working in TV
In movies and shows
Keep doing everything you hate
Just to keep that money flowing
Then one by one
It gets too much
Constant demands
And pressure and such
Can't ever be real
Ever be a sad man
Can't embrace peace
Or love or Heaven
Add fear of illness
To the mix
And it becomes
A deadly fix
Exit this world
Sad and alone
Not feeling loved
Or welcome or home
Walk into Heaven
You can choose a stage
At least here
The angels know your pain
We still love
And remember you
But accept that your life
Wasn't always true
May you feel it in your bones
May you feel it every day
May you know that you are special
We love you come what may
© Michelle Morris, 2023
I remember my Grandma’s birthday month that time
That was the month you broke my heart and trust
April showers and May monsoons collide and let shine
Literally likewise do I feel your struggles as I rust…
These years of tears I shed…
Makes me smile so wide instead…
You broke my heart in two now
You spoke those words anyhow
The end of April…
It’s been 5 going on 6 months without you
Healing’s near, be still
It’s been a journey in my shoes of utter rue
Life is like hiking hills
It’s been a rough time for me lately, who knew
Often thought of popping pills
I remember you, my loves of mine once upon a time, but I must get a grip
I remember all my exes and miss some of their friendship, a shattered ship
The end of April is the time you shredded my heart apart
Maybe, someday, I’ll reach my end in my deathcart…
These years of tears I shed…
Makes me beam brightly instead…
You broke my heart in two now
You spoke those words anyhow
The end of April…
It’s been 5 going on 6 months without you
Healing’s near, be still
It’s been a journey in my shoes of utter rue
Life is like hiking hills
It’s been a rough time for me lately, who knew
Often thought of popping pills
Dwelling in shadows for far too long it seems
God, please mend my broken, unspoken dreams
I need Your Word of life to set me free
Eventually, I’ll live life oh so worry-free
These years of tears I shed…
Makes me grimace graciously instead…
You broke my heart in two now
You spoke those words anyhow
The end of April…
It’s been 5 going on 6 months without you
Healing’s near, be still
It’s been a journey in my shoes of utter rue
Life is like hiking hills
It’s been a rough time for me lately, who knew
Often thought of popping pills
Peace is what I need
Must plant that mustard seed
Of hope and faithfulness
I’m making some progress
Apparently, not enough in your sight
The eyes do lie or tell the truth tonight
Genuine humility is what I crave…
Must truly behave and be brave…
I need a boost of confidence,
Not pride for past reminiscence
The end of April — be still, appall…
I forget and forgive it all…as I stand tall
I try to open myself up some
But then I learn they are not really there
I tell all I feel inside only to recieve an aura of cold air
Loneliness builds inside me,
I'm numb but somehow I still care
People take advantage of me then talk bad of me like im not even there
Friends, family, exes, religion
I forsake them all now because,
What good did it do me? Makes me pull out my hair
Riddle me this feeling of isolation, God
If you are even really here
You answered my prayers with twisted jokes
And you know I dont think it's fair
But you know all about all
My opinion is like a thud down the stairs
Fallen from grace I feel, because creation seems minimalistic
A shot in the dark when I was yet a ball of idiotic light
Dimed down now, as my sight becomes sensitive
And my feelings for people become evermore rare
I'm sick of all of the secrets & I'm tired of all of the lies
I'm tired of all of them stupid boys - making me feel all this sickness inside
I'm done with all of the negativity - I'm done with all of the fakes
I'm over all of their fantasy-worlds - and I'm over all of the snakes
I'm going to singlehandedly kill this one if he continues the abuse
However; I can replace it - so I don't care at all that I'm being used
I'm slowly preparing myself to finally get out & ghost
From the person that was supposed to take care of me the most
Today it's been seven whole nefarious frightening years
But I'm just drowning deeper & deeper in these quicksand tears
He's watching but he won't throw me a life boat
He has on three layers of dry clothes on, but can plainly see that I'm soaked
Layer upon layer all these years like an onion I peeled him back
But every single time I'm out of line for a lady, or speak my mind - I get attacked
Every time I disagree with him I get in trouble so much more
But if he's here he'll kill me - if I begin to run for that door
So I chill & strategize 'cause I've had to do this before
Last time I was stuck in an alcoholic's domestic violence lore
Why do I seem to magnetize to boys with broken & cut wings?
These same stupid boys have offered even worse girls before me wedding rings
It's gonna keep on happening to me 'til I f--king learn
That my heart, love, respect, faithfulness, & loyalty most men don't deserve
I'm way too good of a lady to watch them stomp in my name
But silly boys will never stop abusing me, 'cause of their exes before me to blame
I'm too damn golden to let another boy ever tarnish my vision
So the best answer to this equation is simple division
If I succeed to reclaim myself & my peace
Maybe watching me happily will shift their belief
Maybe when I finally walk away they'll all come to see
Because they never chose to rise to my level - they'll never be good enough for me
Innocence burned in flames
The moment you called me names
Free me from the pleasure and the pain
You’re driving me insane with your brain
You’re a handsome liar…
I’m on fire with your desire
#feeling all alone again
#Refrain from driving me insane
Feeling frightened of what I’ve become
I’m feeling numb, but I’m as strong as titanium
Sleepless at night…flourishing in the light
Everything’s black and white…let’s fly a kite
Strength and hope I need
Pulling you up like a weed
Texting you for too long
Too many times, I’ve written these songs
Nothing helps me belong
In these arms that are cold and heartless…don’t write all my wrongs
On your paper…
It has no flavor
On your paper…
It has no flavor
Hit me with your best shot, stupid ass
You think you have the highest class?
Try me, try me, try me
Cry a river for eternity
I will be your angel on high
If you be my devil from below
I’m alive when I’m shy
I’m extrovert too, you should know
Out of difficulties, grow miracles
I must’ve talked to you a million times
Shut it with your angelic angles
I’ve made far too many rhymes
And did so many crimes
This time…
This time…
This time…
I adore you now
I love you somehow
Fantasies bloom when you walk on by
I am as curious as your one and only fly
I’ve died an infinity times…
I am as shiny as dimes
Dine with me with my failures
Be with me in my endeavors
Dine with me in my successes…
XOXO and bye-bye to my exes
Dreams and nightmares fill my night,
But…shatter me like glass
You’re as fake as a flimsy façade
Get a ride on my past masquerade
What lies ahead?
My past, present and future
I drop dead instead
You loved her, I’m sure
In a blur, you’re my cure…
But, I must endure…
The pain that’s impure
The therapeutic music numbs the pain – if only…you were here…
Then, I wouldn’t be so full of fear…I want to hold you dear…
Time goes by oh so fast…
The past is surely in the past…
Don’t give me no drama
Sick of the trauma you put me through
Doesn’t matter anymore, mama
I guess I was always and forever blue
The sprout of momentary illusion,
the voyage of a derelict dream in place of a lie,
the lure of April, the deceit of May concertized in December,
in wintry snow, mocked,
miscarriages of a well worn organ,
the grin of February,
suspended in September,
the burden of unconquered Lust,
the armies of censorial secret "bedders",
begging for the abandoned rottenness on my path,
obsequious frenzy of the hasty oath at Ikoyi,
the stealthily lure of a defiled bed before the oath,
the desperation of "a wanna be" by crook,
hurried by the mascara coated looks of a postponed "dowried hariotery,"
A bedfellow from the red zone,
an unrepentant Gomer,
The armies of bias exes overwhelmed the gaze with suspicions,
compelling through diurnal and surreptitious escapades in dark corners,
allured by unfinished lust,
to the city centre for a quickie,
And myriads of men hides in ambuscade save one,
with threats of kill for suspending their “off home” secret lush
The public mistress unfit for their homes, Yet suited for their Lust by turns
she warmed our beds they say'
purloined for your Fall of a few days,
The bawd roamed unrestrained,
'Don't talk to me' she says.
Unbridled concupiscence her forte,
forty plus years in the trade,
well versed in the art
The sneaky nights,
the secret calls,
the Stygian services,
and countless gift of libidinous frivolities.
Yet their victim must remain mute,
as truly the drama unfolded ,
all appeal rebuffed by arrogance,
as they taunt with permissive perverse Laws
convinced on the first day.
Converse for four weeks,
conscripted in one week
“conbedded” on arrival in same day,
Correction of a fool,
concluded at the Court.
Then in retrospect, Delilah revived.