Long Ged Poems
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Judgement day is every day when you're trying to survive in a decent way. Clean up your life and move away, to a new playground for the kids to play. It's an Oreo cookie way of life, broader than black and white. Trying to break to the surface to see the light, but you keep getting suppressed.. it takes all your fight.
Drop out came a long way.. From counting stacks of 3 to a GED. On the outside mamma's so proud of me. But inside she's scared she don't want to see me take another fall, slip up and lose it all. X'ed up, punching holes in the wall. She's cautious for my life, she cries: "I wish you could see it through my eyes".
Accidentally got caught up in the game and chase again. Never had let go, the past was still holding onto my hand. Slowly takes over, but you keep it undercover. Keep it on the low, thinking nobody's going to know. But somehow I stayed on top of it. Only slinging and drugging on the weekends and ****. Got through my Friday and played on payday. Dedicated worker specialized in crazy.
Then one I day my end started to begin. I changed my life and I traded it in.. For a camouflage uniform that covered the scars on my skin. I ended up losing my freedom, tied down with conflicting feelings. Gun in my hand, I was told to defend, the pain and the hell that I had abandoned. The bad guy in trusted boots, ripped myself from my roots. I planted my self far from the town I was raised in.
Kind of felt like I was betraying there trust, leaving my love for a life that's lust.
But then again.. I finally felt filled inside, alive. Maybe there was a reason I looked at my past, and wanted to run and hide. No longer scraping dough to get high. Now I see it again, that pride. The sparkle in mamma's eye. And for the first time it ain't a tear from fear. Can't plan ahead a god damn year. Now she has hope instead of dread, from that knock on the door saying: "Your little girl's dead."
I opened my eyes and I stopped listening. Closed my ears to the phrases of hustlers. "Act classy, you're a lady" was all they could muster. How did they think ladies could survive in these streets? Double standards of life, a game you'll never beat.
I lived how I wanted, they said it was no place for a girl. But once I shared what I had, it became our world. I found the "I" in family, once the pain killers got a hold of me. They kill the pain but bring the misery.
___________
Authentic
An American hero
that's all you have to be
An Italian restaurant ad in pink Miami
and the bright pleas of a broken black poet
Images juxtaposed
with her crooked shoes
in a bedroom corner left
forgotten
A mother dies
and nothing remains
the same
except us
her children
Authentic
American heroes
that's all you have to be
____________
Notes:
[ I prepared this for court because a question was raised about my mother's will ]
My mother was born with the name Estackia N••••s in Puerto Rico.
My experience, as one of her 7 children, was the vantage afforded me of growing in the presence of a true American hero.
Without a husband or father in the home and without any other relatives to help, she single handedly lifted us out of dire poverty. she bought a house and afterwards, decided to finish her education. she had only completed the sixth grade, because she had to work to keep her own brothers and sisters from literal starvation.
She got a GED ( General Education Diploma) and afterwards, she began attending college, around the time that I was in high school, to pursue her dream of becoming a doctor, specializing in child psychology.
Eventually, we came to Florida, and she bought another house, and seeing a rather surprising increase in property values, she purchased and sold some lots. In the subsequent years, she purchased and sold many more homes, but continued to do all she could for each of her children; those things she thought would benefit them most.
My mother, Estackia N•••••s, also known as, Carmen C•••••••a, knew Exactly Who She Was in the world. That kind of character, and the motive that compels it, doesn't fail in the last instance in her will for her childrens' continued security and beneficence.
My soul has been cut by a spiritual blade.
Out of control and I only finished the eighth grade.
I've walked the dark path and so many mistakes made.
I heard the devil's wicked laugh but I wasn't afraid.
I trusted no one, due to physical and sexual abuse.
I've held a 38 caliber hand gun but couldn't put it to use!
Women in my life, I just wouldn't allow in my personal area.
Even when I obtained a wife, it was border line hysteria!
I often wonder about the abuse I suffered as a child.
Did that contribute to sex, drugs, and running wild?
The fast life can cut like a knife, but I continued the climb.
But it all would lead to fingers being pointed at me for a crime.
I was afraid to go to trial although the crime I didn't commit.
Past crimes as a juvenile would make me look like the culprit!
I just couldn't put my fate in the hands of twelve strangers;
And so I'm an inmate, but I refuse to succumb to the anger.
I couldn't go to the funeral when my momma passed away.
Such pain like I've never known beneath my breastbone and my soul went astray!
I buried my grief and walked around just a shell of a man.
Relief was found, as I fought my way out of hell and that dark waste land!
I took my pen and begin to express the pain.
Just to releave the stress that was slowly driving me insane.
I always knew the poetry was buried inside me.
But who would have thought this poet only has a G.E.D.
Yes I'm a poet, and oh how I feel so emotionally free!
And you need to know it, that my whole ordeal is in my poetry.
If you could see inside who I am, you'll discover my pedigree!
My love is bonafide and no need for a diagram in my poetry!!!
*Wrote for Amy Green's contest (Tell Me About You)
She cried, She died inside over and over again, She was trapped in herself
and she had no way of escaping. Taking drugs to dull the mud that's been in her
eyes
for years. She's so far away from reality that it's like she is constantly
sleeping.
She has to remind herself what's fictional and what's fact because the
hallucinations wouldn’t let her breath, they’d lie to her every chance she gets.
Turning her mom into a monster not butterflies suddenly this high becomes a
nightmare. One she had been fighting for so long, 16 and still traveling the same
rode as so many younger than her. She didn't listen to all the voices that tried to
tell her what she was missing because truly reality is the thing that makes life
worth living. To her reality was the guy who had raped her constantly when she was
young, Why choose reality when you could live in a dream world where everything had
excuses. Not only could she not recognize the girl who cried constantly in the
mirror but she'd done so many things to herself that even her eyes were a different
color.
It hurt so bad not to remember so she continued to fade until soon it seemed
better.
In an idiotical world where there were always smiles, It wasn't until she got help
that she realized the real world was never always pleasant. It was filled with hate
and lies and pain but that's something real and something she needed to face.
Something she needed to open her eyes to, life would never be cake and she couldn't
have her victory without tasting poison at least once. So when the tears dried and
the wounds healed she signed up for a special thing a thing called GED and she got
it.
Confuse my kindness, with that of weakness
Mistake my silence, to be speechless
Misread my confidence, as conceit
Assume my failures, predict defeat
Should I be quiet, I’m apprehensive
But speak my mind, I’m too defensive
Words of slander, to defame my name
My head held high, I have no shame
Behind the smiles, jealous and irate
The more I achieve, the more you hate
When I reply, with honest candor
It’s misperceived, as pent-up anger
Alarmed to hear, my use of slang
Removes all doubt, I’m in a gang
Accuse me of, nefarious acts
Supported by, alternative facts
Stay late at work, I look suspicious
Why can’t it be, I’m just ambitious?
Take one day off, because I’m sick
I’m doing drugs, with my friend Rick
The home I own, has to be a rental
Or much more likely, it’s governmental
For no good reason, tried to get me fired
As your new boss, think it’s time you’re retired
May have a GED, but no college degree
Hate to burst your bubble, I have my...Ph.D.
My fashion and style, not in your profile
And yes, my shoes are...real crocodile
Gotta have bad credit, or out on parole
I just smile and pay, with American Express Gold
Just sittin’ and chillin’, talking money and stocks
Think we’re planning a crime, so you call the cops
Inequality cloaked, in every disguise
Can’t believe your eyes, when still I rise
Repeated attempts, to stifle my story
Are of no avail, can’t steal my glory
I am not troubled, nor feel despair
Cause I’ve got JESUS, and the power of prayer
YOU REALLY DON’T KNOW ME!
— ©2017 F.E. Anthony
They arrived giggling and giddy, one hundred percent in love. Holding hands, leaning into each other,
Smiling. Young love, nothing like it.
I am teaching GED classes now, something I got roped into.
(GED for those who do not know is the test high school drop outs can take to get a diploma of sorts).
She talked me into it, the boy said. He rolled his eyes.
She smiled shyly, and looked down. He squeezed her hand.
He gave her a little shoulder hug before he released her, and they separated to take their tests.
She was finished first, but glanced over to where he was, and sat quietly.
I walked over to her, handed her a piece of white paper, and whispered, “Draw something for fun.”
I picked up her answer sheet and her test, and went back to my desk to grade it. There were six
Test-takers here on this particular night, a full house, and I had to get started grading.
The girl’s scores were phenomenal, the best I had ever seen and I had been doing this over a year.
I called her over and said to her, “Your scores are amazing. You can take the test tomorrow and fly through it. You will definitely pass.” I whispered this, as some of my students had been taking this test for a year and they were still here, trying to get it right.
The boy’s scores were bleak – thirty percent range across the board. He marched out angry, ahead of her. Her cheeks were pink, she was blinking back tears. I grabbed her hand before she followed him. “Please take the GED,” I said. “You owe it to yourself.” The door shut behind them, and I never saw them again.
(Intro)
Yo, I got scars on my knuckles and dreams in a duffle,
Life gave me lemons, I sold 'em in a hustle.
Mandy said “swing by,” I said “bet,” no delay—
But what happened next? Man, lemme just say...
---
Verse 1
Mandy told me to stop by, I pulled up in Crocs,
Knocked twice, no answer, just a squirrel throwin' rocks.
Saw a van in the back, lookin' shady and mean,
Used a pry bar like it’s part of my hygiene routine.
Next thing I know, red dots on my chest,
FBI yellin’ “Freeze!” like it’s a dance contest.
I said “I’m cold already,” they ain’t laugh at the pun,
Did five years in the pen—now I floss with a shiv for fun.
---
Verse 2
Got out, still mad, still that Mangy old pitbull,
Named “Chaos,” got a grill and a GED, real cool.
He bark in Morse code, talkin’ ‘bout stocks and bonds,
Taught me crypto in the yard with some ramen and tongs.
Now I’m back on the block, wearin’ ankle bling,
Got a parole officer who raps—calls himself “King.”
We do drive-bys in a Prius, eco-friendly thug,
Still livin’ that street life, pitbull cuddles and hugs.
---
Verse 3
I got a tattoo of a toaster, says “Bread or Dead,”
And a mixtape droppin’ soon called Felony & Fred.
I sell dreams in Ziplocs, hope in a can,
And I once got arrested for moonwalkin’ in a traffic jam.
My ex said I’m toxic, I said “Nah, just seasoned,”
She keyed my car, I thanked her—now it’s art, no reason.
So if you see me in the alley with a kazoo and a mug,
Just know you met the legend: Street Life Pitbull Thug.
You don't know me at all
Didn't help you watched me fall
Do you know anything about me?
Do you even know what I yearn to be
How can you lie to people about my life
Your just angry and tired of being a house wife
I know that your ashamed of me
Didn't want others to know I was attending GED
Saying I had finished school
Making me feel pain and look a fool
I messed up because of you
And everything you put me through
Did you know I love books
No you didn't you never bothered to look
Said that I was a bad child
Thats funny your my mom but never around
How can I be the worst when I've done nothing
Even with all that I continue hurting
Calling me out my name
How do you expect me to stay sane
Taking his side as if he cares When he hurt you your kids were there
The pain he put you through
Now you act as if were the liars and his words are true
You used to be so strong
He made you weak and I'm telling you your wrong
You judged me now it's my turn
I want you to fell the pain and burn
We both know what he did to us
But you push me away and him you trust
Your family is very ungrateful
Very bitter and hateful
I just want you to open your eyes
Yearn for you to break down and cry
Tell me that you really need me
Say your sorry for hurting me and free me
Tell me you want to be hugged
I want you to know what it feels like to crave for love
As you do this trying to be free
I'd know you felt my kind of pain and misery.
Poetry
Form:
"My arrangements with destiny weren't arduously demanding or beclouded with nit-picking details, so I merely ask for a day, any day, pick a day, and then for the year, give me a year, pick a year, any year, oops, except 'Year 0,' I am not my best playing when I'm stuck behind the chalk line like everyone else, not to be stood up, so there it is, moving onward was the month which is "SEPTEMBER," ... by The Poet.
Southerly tradewinds leaf's perspective views,
Edged pages adrift in words sprawled treasure,
Peaceful climbing clouds of repentance' grasp,
Trunks' heightens kaleidoscopic stretched tint,
Expanse grazes steep laced-dew darkened eve,
Murmurs promise fields daybreak momentum,
Breaths breezed boughs its penultimate rebab,
Environ temperament changed a whole sphere,
Reflect currents stem loops harvest glows mar,
What else rivers do...
Floating labored grace-filled parades spar gulf,
Aged thought-filled youth completion nirvana,
Luminance decreased blossomed stain improv,
Lapsing life languished midst immersed motto,
Segments scripts' improved accommodate e'er.
What else seasons do...
*rebab-arabian long narrow neck string instrument
*penultimate-next to-last abiding note stresses the best to come
self made and self taught,
I started from the bottom and worked my way to the top.
I was on my own,
I taught myself to survive,
I jumped from crib to crib,
just tryin to get by.
I felt like I was always running but I had no where to hide.
I’ve had meals with people who weren’t family
hung with ppl that didn’t even like me.
The struggle was real but I never let it stop me.
I slept on benches with my big brother cuz we wasn’t wanted by our real mother,
we stole cars and we rode for each other.
I was lost for such a long time,
I kept telling myself not to worry,
that one day I will shine,
one day all I want will eventually be mine.
I fed myself and put clothes on my back,
I stayed respectful and humble no matter where I was at.
I did a year behind bars and fed my brain with books,
made sure I had something to help me succeed other than my looks lol
I went and got my g.e.d. in jail,
I told myself I was gonna do all I can,
not to fail.
I came out self made and self taught,
I learned that I was smarter than what I and everyone else thought.
I’ve stumbled along the way,
but I keep it pushing and I always pray.
I’m proud of myself and who I have become, I can afford to stay in my own home or go out and have fun.
I grew up to fast,
but now that I’m older I can now leave the pain in the past.
I’m self made, i taught myself how to work hard and get paid.
I’m self taught, I made my own success and I won’t stop!