Long Fighting(a) Poems
Long Fighting(a) Poems. Below are the most popular long Fighting(a) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fighting(a) poems by poem length and keyword.
He enjoyed his drinking and wasn't much on an honest pay
And so slowly he started sinking as he went along this way
Being quick with his hands he began lifting peoples wallets
When in jail he soon lands as karma sooner or later besets
Then once he got out it was the drink he went straight for
He was fighting a real bout as he wasn't like he was before
He now slept out on the streets panhandling just to survive
Asking whoever he meets to enable him in just staying alive
And there he sat so drunk as the late autumn sun had set
Then came this punk saying "you loser that's what you get"
Jump in the river he suggested as he even offered to drive
And no one even protested not even caring if he was alive
Maybe this he should just do, in being in such a fragile state
What he said must be true there is no reason for me to wait
And so he slowly began to walk headed to the rivers edge
As to himself he did talk but he was not about to hedge
This night so drunk was he that he was barely stumbling along
When a young gentleman would see in knowing that this was wrong
He used a little of his charm and walked him toward the mission door
Putting the man under his arm he knew that there was only one cure
He was laid into a warm bed while he was just mumbling away
Not knowing what he had said in soon passing out where he lay
Yet that morning when he woke that sun shuttering in his eyes
They heard every word he had spoke and each one of his cries
Thirty years later it happened again a knock on that same door
For there have been many men and there will be so many more
Know who answered the door this time, that bum from 30 years ago
Yep he found the cure as that night it was Jesus he came to know
The Man She Buried
She buried her husband decades ago
He died fighting a needless war
Held prisoner for so many years
He wrote to her every day
Yet, she never heard a word
Her two children never knew their father
They were told stories
But, they never knew for sure
Over time she lived her life
As he became a distant memory
The a day came when a canvas bag arrived
A thousand letters were poured onto the floor
Each one was sent from a cage in Hanoi
Addressed to her, but never sent
She read each one through tear-filled eyes
And as the last letter was put back in the envelope
She fell in love one again
And again she mourned the man she buried so long ago
They let me down
now put me down
harsh views of me all around town
no one has seen me or heard a sound
I fell down in a pit of trouble
wasn’t offered a hand or a cuddle
snowballing mind evermore muddled
an additional “you lie” ball to juggle
In my struggle they say I’m pathetic
no one looks and no one gets it
brainwashed sure fake’s projected
you took my life and chose to wreck it
Believe a false reputation to justify
treating a guy a joke and sly
Clown to laugh at because he lies
open up your stupid eyes
I conclude you don’t even care
I helped you and I was there
now I act unkind unfair
you think it’s come out of no where
Think I was denied attention and now seek more
when did I want attention before?
Fighting a battle you give me a war
and I’m being eaten away at the core
Was a people person kind and thoughtful
then people treated me unkind and awful
an act for an act and the acts reward
answering how you answer my call
since you’ve seen the new me
not the guy labelled comically
which you helped kill setting free
this guy living life selfishly
Now like you yet can be the old me too
but I'll never be him when I'm around you
you cared so little and haven't a clue
why I am now so hostile and rude
(tales from the viral lock-down)
Brice (my brother) is cutting through what smells like a stack of cinnamon french toast.
My stomach growls at the aroma like a hunting cat.
I jump out of bed, grab my robe and rush excitedly to the kitchen.
I see the pan in the sink.
gasp “You didn’t MAKE me any!!?” I accuse, in indignant shock.
Brice, looking up, “JESUS, get on some clothes!”
He waves his arms like he's fighting a flock of birds.
I look down, “GOD, I AM wearing clothes, you PERV! - and a bathrobe”
"Who says THAT’S a bathrobe??” He says, sarcastically.
Me: “Kiki Montparnasse!”, I say, indignantly.
My mom enters to fill her coffee cup.
Brice: “Will you please tell YOUR DAUGHTER to get on some clothes?”
My mom inspects me and I twirl for my audience.
“That IS a little sheer”, she pronounces.
“ARGH!, FINE,” I say, before stomping off to change.
I start to fume."HE CAN GO ALL OVER IN BOXER SHORTS BUT I CAN'T WEAR A BATHROBE?!!"
“And HE didn’t make EXTRA TOAST”, I yell back in pointed accusation.
“Get to work,” (on more toast) I hear her tell him, just before I slam my door.
another day…
My brother Brice is fighting with his girl-friend on the phone.
Of course, I'm only hearing 1/2 the conversation - but he sounds like a jerk.
Me: "apologize," I silently, slowly, exaggeratedly mouth
Brice: "drop dead," he mouths back, silently
Me: "I'm your sister," I say, "I get to boss you around, besides, I KNOW what’s BEST"
A minute later - He actually apologizes!!! And they make up.
(I dance around the room like Rocky)
Fighting a battle that I may never win,
Just seems to break me a little more with every breath I take in.
There's a monster inside me that tries to pry it's way through and make me weak.
No one really knows that it's help I seek.
I can feel it clawing at my soul, breaking down the wall it's behind.
I search for a path to get away from it, but it's just something I can't find.
There's loved ones everywhere to help me, but I can't find the words to ask.
I have to hide the tortuous pain and tears behind this treacherous mask.
I fight to keep it all in, I fight to be the happy person I should be.
I fight against it all because this isn't the person I want people to see.
Europe is stuck in the past
Europe’s leaders have to see that the world has changed but continue to pursue a globalist agenda through the EU, where all of Europe’s nations from the cold North to temperate Spain should speak with the same voice, in happy unity
The Great Victor Orban disagreed and was hated, he believed that individual countries should decide their own future to create, if you like, a multi-power structure; globalists angrily objected to this state of affairs
Up from dark minds the Russia hatred arose among the leaders, suggesting they could arm Ukraine to go on fighting a lost war but the people do not fear Russia, in Norway it is a place for shopping, buying Russian vodka and so on
In Norway, whoever party is in charge lays down laws restricting what their inhabitants can do or not do and think, knowing what is best for the people believe, and they are not ashamed to bring religion into this. This is a micro-cosmos of
Europe’s strangulation of people’s free will and they have the nerve call this social democracy which to a set of rules that is an enemy of free will, free expression where people are banned for having an opinion contrary to officialdom
You might think restriction of booze and how much vodka you can take home after a trip to Russia, by-laws are made to make you safe and before you know, you can be arrested for carrying a cigarette lighter in your pocket
You don't have a single clue
It attacks inside of you
Silently it starts a war
And sneaks a virus to the core
Of your womanhood and breasts
Putting your strength to the test
Fighting a battle hard to win
That's claimed victims time and again
Your perseverance pulls you through
The next surgery or two
Leaving you a whole lot lighter
Proving that you are a fighter
Pink ribbon worn on your dress
Hiding scars upon your flesh
A pretty pink bow in your hair
Until a wig is placed on there
Holding hands with others who
Raise money on walks right by you
Candles lighting up the night
Remember those who lost the fight
To this monster that don't care
Who it takes or when or where
My Faults are on a projector that plays constant in my mind,
The waters rising steady making it impossible to unwind.
Medication tastes like failure as it dances past my tongue
I'm suffocating from the toxins that are burning through my lungs,
I lay in the bathtub and I watch from just below the surface,
looking through the haze wondering if all of this is worth it....
I watch the bubbles and I count them as I hold my breath,
I wonder what would happen if I silently slipped into my death.
It's like my mind is aching for a slumber that is always out of reach,
I coming up gasping for air but I resist the urge to breathe.
I know that this is wrong but I Cant shake the dreams,
My demons whisper sweet lies of a place where I'm at ease.
I tried to follow their caress once and i woke up heavyhearted.
How could I just walk away from the family that I've started?!
I feel the water as it cascades over scars of failure and down my thighs
There's a Girl who lives inside me who wants nothing more than to die.
I silence her with music that flows through my veins when i write,
but lately words are scrambled and nothing comes out right.
I stumble over lyrics that used to come to in waves,
Now as i stand within the current I am shaking and afraid.
I HATE Doctors Who Say "Tell me again how you feel"
How do i describe that sometimes this life doesn't seem real?
I trace over my words to make sure their really on the page,
I chase shadows from my mind because they want me fade away.
I don't know what to do and i don't know how to make you see,
That I'm fighting a battle and here is not where i want to be...
I know your here for me i can't explain why I'm breaking.
I feel trapped inside my mind, I feel lost and forsaken.
Form:
your life wasn't easy
I was nine that morning
your battered face
you said you ran into
a clothesline pole
but it was a tank
the same one I ran into
when you took us away
I should have been
angry at him, not you
you gave your children a life
sacrificed everything
yet I never
not even now
fully realized
what a strong, courageous
and loving woman
my mom....
I'm trying
I hold onto the memory
of that time a bad call
at the very last second
cost me
a fiercly contested
wrestling match
you knew
it was more
than that disappointment
grinding me down
sitting there on my bed
despondent
on the cliff's edge
staring down into a sea of
disillusionment
you came
sat beside me
and told me you understood
how discouraged I was
but that when you watched me
you saw a man fighting a battle
and it made you proud
and it made me cry
god it made me cry
Suicide is not selfish, a cry in the dark,
A silent scream from a broken heart,
It's not a choice made lightly, but a burden too heavy to bear,
A final surrender to despair.
Depression's grip tightens, suffocating and cold,
Leaving the soul shattered, the spirit untold,
It's not a selfish act, but a battle lost,
A painful reminder of the human it cost.
Judgment comes from those who don't know,
The depths of despair, the inner foe,
But for those who have faced the abyss,
They know the pain, the unbearable twist.
So please do not judge, but extend a hand,
To those who are struggling to stand,
For in the darkness, your light can shine,
A beacon of hope, be a lifeline.
Suicide is not selfish, it's a plea for release,
From neverending torment, for inner peace,
Let us offer compassion, kindness, and care,
For those who are fighting a battle that's unfair.