Long Grady Poems
Long Grady Poems. Below are the most popular long Grady by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grady poems by poem length and keyword.
Wind howls down Route 66 like a freight train cry,
Dusty motel neon burns through the Oklahoma sky.
Donna was fourteen with a heart soft as rain,
Till the devil rolled up another innocent girl slain.
"Pretty little thing, you wanna fly high?"
Needle kissed her arm, now the stars ain’t so bright.
They pick 'em like wildflowers, sweet and untamed,
Lick 'em with poison, honey laced with pain.
Stick 'em with promises, hollow as hell,
'em and leave 'em— leaving another shell.
Mama’s Bible sits on the window like a ghost,
Donna’s laugh turned to whispers, fading fast.
Sheriff turns his head when the money is right,
While girls disappear into the Oklahoma night.
Pill bottles rattle like a death march tune,
Prison bars or a grave—one’s coming soon.
Writes her name in the dirt with a shaking hand,
"Remember me, Lord, if You still give a damn."
They pick 'em like wildflowers, sweet and untamed,
Lick 'em with poison, honey laced with pain.
Stick 'em with promises, hollow as hell,
'em and leave 'em—leaving another shell.
The wind don’t answer, it whistles her name,
Just carries the echoes of a life gone to waste.
And the men keep driving, hunting fresh prey,
Oklahoma's red dirt covers Donna’s grave.
Walked through this dying town
A Latina that burned buildings down
A vision of grace in a world of gray
A kind of beauty words can't say
Nightmares real and dreams old
A story of sin and virtues sold
Offered a future and a steady hand
A future built on solid land
Looked through me like glass
Waited for her storms to pass
She went with him
Because she wanted to
Tore my heart on cue
Became a woman of a drunk
All her treasures packed
In an old car’s trunk
Trading glory
For a bottle of rye
Under the bleeding
Chickasha sky
She was the biggest whore
The finest in Grady they say
In the ruins of Chickasha
Men lived for her
By the hour - sometimes a month
To hold the beauty I wanted once
A paradox she had it all
But all she could do is crawl
The highest rise and the hardest fall
Whiskey breath on the breeze
Bringing a proud man to his knees
Chose shadows over a name
Chose a bottle over the flame
She said, "I like the warmth of your light
But I need a man who runs in the night
I need the chaos, I need to crawl
I want the one who offers nothing at all"
I had to go, she wished to stay
In the ruins of old Chickasha
The bottle’s empty, the glass cracked
There is no way of turning back
Leaving gold for the shifting sand
With a man who can’t even stand
She went with him
Because she wanted to
Destroyed my heart on cue
The whore of a drunk
Her treasures packed
In an old car’s trunk
Traded her story
For a bottle of rye
Under a bleeding Chickasha sky
The finest whore with nothing to give
Giving it away where the drunks live
Dancing a slow death
In old Chickasha
The graveyard still stood in the glade by the woods,
casting shadows against the tall pines.
Last words on a stone, standing off all alone,
in a tangle of branches and vines.
“Here lies Mary Grady, not much of a lady,
cut down in her bed as she dreamed.
By a lover who scorned her, when once he adored her,
from a knife to her throat did she bleed.”
Through dark woods he walked, a young woman he stalked,
as she strolled midst the graves unaware.
His heart cruel and depraved for the murder he craved,
he smiled as she knelt down in prayer.
On the grave set apart, hand over her heart,
she wailed in lament on the stone.
At this moment the man, with a knife in his hand,
took control while she knelt all alone.
Her heart leapt in her chest as his knife slashed her breast,
her blood seeping deep ‘neath the stone.
Deep into the space Mary Grady was placed,
and she died with a sigh and a moan.
Deep within, under her, Mary did stir,
to an innocent’s blood, she did rise.
She sought to avenge, crying out for revenge,
and the murderer shrieked his surprise.
Opalescent and dark, she approached the black heart,
her eyes brimming bright with disdain.
Then she chuckled with glee as the man tried to flee,
thinking that he’d gone mad or insane.
As her spirit came near, his heart pounding with fear,
she grabbed him, her ghostly rage fierce.
“Now it’s YOUR turn.” she said, ripping hair from his head,
and his heart, with her hand, she did pierce.
Mary looked down at the man on the ground,
satisfaction at what she had done.
Now her spirit could rest, his heart ripped from his chest,
conquering evil, she’d won.
There's an Irish lad named Grady
Who confessed love for his lady
Sadly, she blew him off
With a snub and a scoff
For thinking his motives shady
Grady's heart was torn asunder
She stole it like thieves steal plunder
He threw a gauntlet glove
Waging war against love
Claiming romance was his blunder
He changed his mind when he met Vie
So he gave love another try
But she ran off with Stan
Then left that man for Dan
Grady had been just one more guy
Months later, Grady was smitten
When he fell in love with Kitten
All he could do was stare
At her blue eyes, so fair
By that feline he'd been bitten