Long Get crushed Poems
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DEAR SANTA, LET ME EXPLAIN
Dear Santa Claus, way up in the North Pole
Please, at least give me a chance to explain!
How was I supposed to know Dad’s remote control
Would get crushed when run over by a toy train?
I am not as naughty a boy as you might think,
I’m not a bad kid, I am not as bad as all that,
Who knew paint should not be poured down the sink?
Or that you should never try to shave the cat.
No matter what stories you might have heard,
I can be pretty darn good when I give it a try.
The cat will never again be stuffed in the cage with the bird,
Or slingshot to see if he can be taught how to fly.
I eat all of mom’s cooking, no matter how bad
I do my best to clean up my plate.
Only once did I hide the car keys in the freezer on Dad
The line I walk is narrow and straight.
I am sorry about the window, it was an accident
I was just playing ball with my friends.
I will pay for the glass, one hundred percent
And do whatever I can to make amends.
I am sure that Grandma has forgotten about those plates
She has forgotten about almost every other thing.
And I never bring her frogs or the snakes she hates
I have not muddied her carpets since Spring.
And about my kid sister, her hair will grow back,
Dad said she looked cuter than cute.
I think the rug in my room looks better in black
And Grandpa already replaced his gray suit.
So give me a break, Santa, I’m trying real hard,
It’s not easy keeping grownups happy, you see.
Maybe pirates really did bury treasure in our yard,
If I had found it, they would be happy, I guarantee.
So maybe sometimes I get in trouble when I get into a fight
Maybe sometimes I have to clap erasers after school,
I’m just full of energy, holding me down is not right
So what if I don’t follow their stupid rules
That rat Benny B., he had it coming, St. Nick,
He has been giving me guff for a week
He is a bully and a punk and he just makes me sick
With his nonstop tormentor’s mean streak.
You are Santa, you know the truth, I am really OK
I’m not a bad kid all of the time,
Just please bring me Christmas, I’ll do whatever you say,
I will even stop writing in rhyme.
Just one more thing Santa, and I hope you don’t mind
I really want to spread holiday cheer,
So if your list falls a little bit behind,
Please cut me a little slack for next year.
Dear freshman me,
Why didn’t you go watch Powder Puff? I promise, it’s really fun. Your classmates darting across the field for a once-a-year-event that you’ll only get once more of in your high school career?
Speaking of, freshman me, hug your friends more often, and hang out outside of school, because starting in March of next year, you won’t be able to for a while.
Girl, nobody is looking at how your silver homecoming high heels “clash” with your gold dress, no one noticed the piece of hair you forgot to straighten.
But I wish you had taken notice of the colorful banners that guarded the main staircase reading “Trivia Night”. I wish you had gone to Mr. THS, even if you’ve never spoken to any of those boys before.
They say it’s the best four years of your life, but how can you complain that it's not when you’ve never tried to make it so?
I have some good news for you, freshman me.
You go to Powder Puff this year. You’re right on the field with your camera as yearbook editor.
You’re busy as often as you can stand it, October was a blackout BINGO card where every single day had an event.
Senior homecoming was a blast, and you care so little about your footwear that you trade the heels for tennis shoes, don’t mind when you get crushed by a passing crowd surfer, let alone your hair.
The play was amazing this year. You’ll be glad you went. With Nate, no less, who you’ll have known from your first day of preschool until your last day of high school, but had drifted apart because of lack of overlapping classes.
You still have no classes with him, freshman me, but you hang out almost every week. Yesterday, he brought you Starbucks after you made a passing comment about how tired you were.
My advice to you, younger me, is to go to the events. See your friends when you can.
Reach out and make new ones. Keep a planner and thank your Link Leaders- you’ll be one someday.
Stay on top of your homework and go to as many ridiculous clubs that pop up.
Freshman me, in a few months I’ll be a freshman again, and I hope I take this advice with me
When I go.
I have ghosts who live inside me and refuse to move out
They tear me apart piece by piece with every passing moment, as I try not to remain silent anymore but my cries are muffled by the shadow choking me, I tremble and shiver as the air inside my lungs slowly disappears and starts to get replaced by non-existent water, the force of a million goodbyes pulls me under the water I try to hold on to a glimmer of hope on the surface but my strength is nothing compared to the regrets that pull me in. My desperate hands try to hold on to the air for the last time, but as obvious as it is I held on to nothing, to an expression that doesn't exist, I might be foolish but maybe I was just lost in the moment, I was a child, I was innocent and naive, I didn't know better, but somehow it's still all on me, it's my fault so I pay the consequences of my own actions and I with tears in my eyes and heart being turned to shreds watch without flinching the life being sucked out of me and I smile as I get crushed and bear the pain of my heart and soul simultaneously being burned to ashes multiple times over and over until I breathe my last still smiling because I know the end to this merciless voyage has arrived and my mind is now free from this constant state of torture and suffering.
But when I finally close my eyes I am greeted by the sound of all my burdens and mistakes, the people I've hurt, the ghosts I've provoked, the pages I've torn and the bridges I've burned following me ruthlessly with swords and daggers the peace I dreamed of turns out to be a myth, a lie. I lift my skirt that weighs the weight of my crime and try to run and escape them all but I trip and fall and scream as I land on the shattered glass that pierces through my skin, the flowing blood tying me to the ground as they all catch up to me and pitilessly stab me with their weapons, my clothes my body, my hair all drenched in blood every inch of me reeking with the scent of it. I lay there lifeless finally accepting that this is my forever and nothing I do or don't do would be able to change it.
my doctor asked me what’s my truth. And I dawned on this question for a while. She came in the next day and asked me this question all the way up until I got discharged. On the way to campus in a smelly taxi I still couldn’t answer what my truth is. but now that I’m lying in my dorm room bed and listening to post Malone high, I can finally answer what my truth is.
My truth.
My truth is I’m too sensitive
I think I can fix everyone but refuse to work on myself because I don’t think I deserve this wonderful life because I have yet to be anything but wonderful.
I love too fast and too hard for girls with dark hair and pretty eyes. I love to the point where it hurts me just to think about falling in love again with the wrong person.
I never think people are the wrong people.
My truth is I’m so scared to get crushed because when my mom crushed my heart, I lost trust in everything.
I never let people in to the point where it hurts me and if I do let people in, I have this weird invisible wall over my heart so they can’t break.
My truth, I need everyone to like me, so I feel better about how I don’t like me.
My truth is I have depression.
I don’t know how to deal with it, so I make jokes and push my feelings so low that I forget I have them sometimes.
I’m scared of white people.
I'm scared of people with different views than I have.
I'm scared of the world and to explore it because then I won’t want to leave it.
I’m scared to get better mentally because I don’t know who I am without my depression.
My truth is I don’t have a truth.
I don’t have a truth because I've never been honest with myself about how I feel.
I want to die but I want to live, I want to love but I won’t let myself be loved, I want to enjoy life, but I don’t do things that I enjoy.
LOVE IS LIKE.........................
Love is like a pair of shoes!
Easy to abuse, or tossed in the trash when over used.
Love is like fire,
soon you'll get burn, or the flames will just simply turn off!
Love is like a car,
always finding ways to get it fixed, or searching for a better one!
Love is like a calendar,
changing days, weeks in 12 months, with resolutions never accomplished!
Love is like dirty laundry, you put it to the side!
Love is like a song, winds up all kinds of emotion before it ends!
Love is like a teacher, never appreciated!
Love is like dirt, easy to step on, or sweep away!
Love is like make up, easy to remove with tears!
Love is like a battery, draining all it's juice till it runs out!
Love is like a model, full of $h*t!
Love is like a Doctor, dumping hurting news with a cost!
Love is like a remote control, to many buttons to push!
Love is like the universe, confusing without knowing what's out there!
Love is like power, to hard to handle!
Love is like a fart, it really stinks!
Love is like a coloring book, scribbling pages to get it over with!
Love is like a flower, that will die eventually!
Love is like an egg, one way, or another it has to break or rot!
Love is like a shadow, it only happens with light!
Love is like a roach, waiting to get crushed!
Love is like a unicorn, does it even exist!
Love is like a heart beat, easy to stop!
By; p.d.
**********(LMFAO)***************
I think I had to much fun demoting love.
...........Instead Of promoting (LOL)........
Love is like wow! if you really must know!
My love is a hawk with a broken wing,
Alone in a stormy night as wind cries with a angry force of mother earth
My love is a lonely road in a dark that forgets to sing
And bring cries to smiles and comfort me with the morning light of sunshine.
My love is a inner child that the wicked can not overthrow or try to break that true meaning of words god blessed from the day we born into this infant life's.
And our adult life get crushed with a unfortunately set goal that maybe fail three thousand times but you steps closer to a stage of overcoming goals of positiveness pathway of a new age of accepting your failures your half way there. You encountered a trait which you can see the world from a different point of view.
My love is song with the sweet voice of love ones that passed on but never gone. Hold them within the heart of the free spirited life.
A tune that a Atlantis sung before flood that taken lives and lost verses of beautiful music to a perfect symphony to our ears.
My love is a Holy ghost that has never portrayed its way,
A passed spirit from Heaven above always comfort me in the nights of lonely dark times which brings me to my knees begging lord give servenity of strength please.
My love is a joy of fulfilled new knowledge of enlightenment within. All from taking the true God lesson I learned day by day. The angel soul of a burning past will bring comfort to those who inner child who begging to come out of their dark times.
My love is a hawk with a broken wing,
Alone in a stormy night as wind cries with a angry force of mother earth
My love is a lonely road in a dark that forgets to sing
And bring cries to smiles and comfort me with the morning light of sunshine.
My love is a inner child that the wicked can not overthrow or try to break that true meaning of words god blessed from the day we born into this infant life's.
And our adult life get crushed with a unfortunately set goal that maybe fail three thousand times but you steps closer to a stage of overcoming goals of positiveness pathway of a new age of accepting your failures your half way there. You encountered a trait which you can see the world from a different point of view.
My love is song with the sweet voice of love ones that passed on but never gone. Hold them within the heart of the free spirited life.
A tune that a Atlantis sung before flood that taken lives and lost verses of beautiful music to a perfect symphony to our ears.
My love is a Holy ghost that has never portrayed its way,
A passed spirit from Heaven above always comfort me in the nights of lonely dark times which brings me to my knees begging lord give servenity of strength please.
My love is a joy of fulfilled new knowledge of enlightenment within. All from taking the true God lesson I learned day by day. The angel soul of a burning past will bring comfort to those who inner child who begging to come out of their dark times.
I don't understand how they
are seeing through me like
glass.
Poking their heads around
corners trying to see into my
past
Trying to cover up my
insecurities and fears with a
little sass
But they see it... they see me,
wondering how long I can last.
They speak sweet words and
capture my desires.
But it's dangerous to think of
them to be anything but liars.
Too many of them are lurking,
like little admirers
Tip toeing, poking, tearing at
me like animated pliers.
I deny my fear and just pretend
it's that I don't care
But mane the truth doesn't
disappear, me admitting this is
rare.
Hold me, cradle me, I want
affection so much
I want to feel secure and safe
from someone's touch
Physically and emotionally I'll
push people away.
Don't touch me, don't look
through me, I'm fine... I'm
okay.
However, they see a hurt child
behind my aggressive attitude
And I feel vulnerable when they
can tell I'm holding back with
such magnitude.
They want to get close and
make everything okay
Well, I won't trust them, it's
just something for them to say
They know I crave their
affection, they know I want to
trust.
But as much as I want to, I
can't... so it's their hearts that
get crushed.
Form:
At one time it meant something when a gentleman would hold open the door..,
Today in our society we don't want that thing anymore..,
Yet before your date goes into the building,
Have her go ahead of you,
That is what my dear old grandma would oft' say !
No given need by which to hide and pretend..,
For the anti- Christ that you speak of is already here,
He both linger's to and fro !
Yet one can't find him by starring out their window ?
Trying not to get crushed out of the hidden under toe..,
There is something else I think you ought to know,
This is the end of the age of innocence !
For hate is in full force !
There are no white flags with retreat on them..,
Still a winner is just another loser that gets up and gives it one last try !
Now you all should be very happy to meet !
A true source of freedom that came to us some time ago,
Was spit upon along with a tormented crucifixion !
As if this man was nothing !
Yet that nothing of a man still lives on today !
To live among his children who oft' give,
A little love to toe who are hurting..,
Bringing about solace and peace !
For many there be who will reap what they sow..,
This shouldn't come at a big surprise !
Keep look in ahead at that hero's eyes !
I am alone
I’m all alone
Yet again
In this sparsely populated plain
My dearheart having gone off the screen
Giving me a really nasty turn
To hit the sad way of the forlorn
But your love I never did spurn
Thinking of you in the dreamlands that burn.
And just once
Only once
Hand me my overdue recompense
Fill me with an ounce of tenderness
Just strum these hyper strung weird chords
So I could moan thanks in all fairness
To the one beating the beast out of breasts
A prelude to pulverising the pelvis
But your love I never did spurn
In Cupid’s fair, in fairylands that burn.
I will wait
At any rate
For whatever it is you deem right
To this one with a lot of blights
Turned inside out and flaming now bright
Crush to get crushed by taut thighs at night
But your love I never did spurn
Thinking of you in the scrublands that burn.
I’m all alone…yet again
In this sparsely populated plain
My dearheart having gone off the screen
Giving me a really nasty turn
To hit the sad way of the forlorn
But your love I never did spurn
Thinking of you in the dreamlands that burn.
16 Feb 13
For Cyndi Macmillan's " My spice box:Sensual poetry" contest
For Catie Lindsay's Freeverse contest on 6th mar 13