Long Fit the mold Poems
Long Fit the mold Poems. Below are the most popular long Fit the mold by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fit the mold poems by poem length and keyword.
Sitting here reminiscing
About what my life is truly missing
The passion and warmth you feel from kissing
I see myself needing to be bolder
Or my nights will continue to get colder
I need some love that appears to be stuck on hold
The whole thing leaves me feeling like I don't fit the mold
Treating them all with a heart of gold
Why have so many of them sold their souls
Don't they see I got game that rolls
With one goal to love not control
So many of them put on such a good show
Thinking it's not possible for you to know
Like being online makes you blind
So many of them using the same mo
Their intentions known from the word go
Sharing their hard luck life
cutting through your trust like a double-edged knife
Shame on them for taking advantage of my lust
Not knowing that it all leads to one big bust
When they lie to gain my trust
They leave me no choice but to look at them with disgust
What must I do to find a love that is true
One that exists just between me and you
A love that grew together from the very start
One based on a truth that won't keep us apart
The kind love that mends a lonely heart
From the one who calls you sweetheart
When wonder of my worth erupts
and threatens everything I know
Volcanoes of emotion rush
imparting such a mighty blow
Oh why, to be so insecure
to feel unwanted and alone
Assuming, surely it’s my fault
When no one’s calling on the phone
It must be me, not smart enough
no college gave me a degree
Perhaps, it’s just now I’m too old
There's nothing left for them to see
So unattractive I must be
Perhaps, I sing the same old song
I try too hard to fit the mold
to finally feel that I belong
I’ve wasted oh, so many tears
of my existence on this earth
To try to know just how it feels
to never wonder of my worth
YOU’RE NO FRIEND OF MINE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh scale! You’re no friend of mine
a constant reminder of the weight I desire
You whisper secrets in my unwilling ear,
of all that's lacking, a never-ending quest for perfection.
Your numbers dance upon your face so bright,
a dizzying maze of digits that confound and confuse.
I resist your grasp, your hold so tight,
for in your depths, I see only an endless fight.
I see a battle to conform, to fit the mold,
to sacrifice my soul, my heart, my internal gold.
Oh, scale you’re no friend of mine, I cry,
for you’re cold and calculating with your digital truth.
You ignore the beauty of imperfection, the charm of flaws,
the uniqueness that makes my spirit unique.
You see only the surface, not my heart,
a shallow reflection of my beauty within.
Oh, scale! You’re no friend of mine.
If I said this is me trying,
If I told you that
Isolation was becoming
More of a destination than an action,
Would it be enough for you?
I know I’m too much,
Not enough to fit the mold that I once laid
Perfectly in,
I know I failed to flourish,
I know I faltered.
I’m sorry.
I learned to swim before I could run,
Because when you spend your whole life drowning,
Floating becomes survival.
The pavement hurt to fall on,
But at least I could patch myself up, heal.
The water takes everything.
It’s surround sound,
Sensory deprivation,
My lungs fill with the density,
And I sink deeper and deeper,
And I finally understand that it’s got me,
The darkness that doesn’t quite dissolve.
A lingering,
A taint.
I’ve learned to live with it,
I can’t remember a time it wasn’t in me,
But I can feel the level rising,
It’s consuming my entirety.
Each and every time I think it’s getting lighter,
The pressure doubles
And I feel myself condensing into nothingness.
I thought I could leave this all behind,
Until I finally understood,
This depth,
This ocean,
There will be no escape.
All gorgeous babes, “Made in U.S.”
But minds, oh my god, a mess
Pontificating, pointing fingers
The oozing hurt that screams and lingers
They’re on YouTube and TikTok
To share pain and talk, talk, talk
How no good men are out there
All men are evil, they declare
Who pays, for what, then when and why
Don’t fit the mold? F.U., goodbye
Love’s now transaction, what’s my cut?
Became so common, it’s a rut
Demanding dough at every turn
Big bucks he spends, or else he’ll burn
Capricious, dizzy, double-faced
Girls call for power, to be chased
Cannot accept what men are 'bout
Disliked one word and all’s in doubt
No patience finding kindred soul
So used to play the boss’s role
Surprise-surprise, men walk away
They seek soulmates, not being prey
Someone who’s kind, warm and sweet
With whom to make one’s life complete
The fruits the feminism bears
It’s also truth of life that bares
Be strong and pushy and demand
With dreams of home built on sand
The men are moths and women – flames
Don’t this work well with angry dames?
As age progresses, panic struck
Girls, mend your minds, else out of luck
Traditions worked for thousand years
Embrace them, cast away your fears
To have man’s back and fire going
Instead of nagging have love flowing
Men - simple creatures, fielding calls
For hearty meals and hollow balls
A ‘thank you, darling”, “you’re the best”
Shall stoke romance, preserving zest
Men don’t need much, but not the fight
Home’s place for cuddle and delight
Hey, babes, surrender, get embraced
And may your family be graced
Sept 25, 2025
The outside is where I belong
The inside so filmiar
A constant stride to belong
To fit the mold of what a man should be
Weak I am cancered by self denial
When will it end for me
Alone I be
What a disappointment
A shaded comparison of where I started
I seek something
But back away
When it gets hard I blame all but me
I am the cause of no resolution in my dimise
It's hard to see past all the flaws when they seem to out weigh the successes
Torn apart from it all
Just dwell in the peices of insecurities
What have I become
Lost in the shallow of a hollow man
In a world built in expectations I fall flat everytime
What is the reason for this prison
It's all in the past part of my present
When will this future become bright
When all around this body is a dark mass
Haunted visions ghosts of remembrance
This is how my life develops
Within the carnage of love and hate I collide
Still beaten and battered but whos throwing the punches
Me a lesser verison of myself
Where do I go
Where do a belong
In the wasteland of failure for all to flourish except me.
I am your average Joe
In that I am unspectacularly unique.
Women are not turning their heads
To ogle my physique,
Nor are mothers hiding their babies’ eyes,
Fearful of my face they’ll catch a peek.
My accomplishments are many,
Though none to give me fame,
And if asked at a party,
No one would recognize my name,
Yet the few who do know me,
Respect me just the same.
I have a few traits shared by many men,
Stereotypically common of an American white male.
Raised in Anytown, United States,
In a family whose story one could not sell.
An upbringing quite familiar,
Similar to one thousands of others could tell.
And yet I have other traits that don’t quite fit the mold,
Interests and skills uniquely my own, or so I am told.
You have to get to know me, to see them for yourself,
They are not exactly on display like on a grocers’ shelf.
There are a few people who love me,
And a few others who do not,
But most if asked directly,
And put upon the spot
Would struggle for an opinion,
One way or the other, never giving it a thought.
If you took the time yourself to see,
And let an opinion inside you grow,
I am sure that you will find,
I am like no one else you know,
But if you had to describe me
You’d say I’m your Average Joe.
She came into this world without asking,
Not for love, but to fit the mold society built for her—
To carry expectations she never chose.
Before she knew “want,”
Before she understood touch,
She was a flower pressed between the hands of the world,
Measured by demands she never agreed to.
She grew not with love,
But with duty—
Holding responsibility before she learned to stand,
Carrying her family, her world,
On shoulders too small to bear such weight.
She became everyone’s anchor,
Living many lives for many people,
Yet never one for herself.
Her mind twisted with unspoken thoughts,
Starved not for food alone,
But for care—
For a touch meant only for her,
For recognition that she is more than a giver,
More than a vessel of sacrifice.
She learned to achieve silently,
To dream in secret,
So no one would feel disappointed—
Even as her own heart stayed hidden.
She bore loss quietly,
Kept her life small
Even while the world around her overflowed
With the things she earned.
She did this to keep others from hurting,
To keep love balanced on fragile scales.
Yet still—
Through exhaustion,
Through the ache of being first,
Through the weight of being unseen—
She endures.
She heals herself.
She breathes.
She survives.
A quiet, steadfast testament
To a soul that gives everything
And asks nothing—
Except the small, sacred grace
To simply be.
How are you my pet?
Have all you need?
Are you all set?
Have all your wants and needs met?
Good, now it’s time to pay
With your vote for me today
Prove your loyalty and appreciation
To further our political masturbation
Of you my obedient pet
Just obey
And please don’t fret
We need your mindless conformity
As we employ our brand of deformity
Time to keep quiet and do as your told
As we bring you to heel
If I may be so bold
It’s the same story
That’s old and retold
We prey
You obey
And fit the mold
Of soulless servitude
To the heartless and cold
Surprise, surprise
Your existence has sold
To the lowest bidder
Is what I’m told
Now come my pet
And submit to the F. O. L. D.
(Follow Our Logic Deviant)
Eric (and sometimes not)
feet tracing ruts
softened by the weight of others
the path was worn
polished
not by insight
but by generations
unquestioning the same direction
a weed split the sidewalk
where my foot hesitated
they handed us maps
already marked, folded
creased at the routes
they wanted us to traverse
walls hung with heirlooms
no one claimed
shadows
longer than the rooms
classrooms’ chalkboards of certainty
offices pressed flat with protocol
we learned the art
of veiling the eye behind the eye
we drank from vessels
lips like waiting mouths
etched with forgotten crests
believing the shape of the cup
taught us thirst
air rehearsed its return
like a tethered animal pacing
the same invisible circle
inscribed with grace
shaped like a cage
narrowing the limit
of knowledge
of wisdom
altars made from repetition
shaped our days
to fit the mold
filed down the splinters of doubt
until only smooth compliance remained
tell me—
what is awakening
if not the moment
your hand reaches
for a handle
no one told you was there
and the quiet moment after waking
my heart
uncertain
unshod
hesitates…