Long Grudges Poems
Long Grudges Poems. Below are the most popular long Grudges by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grudges poems by poem length and keyword.
You hold someone down, do what they don't ask, fulfill their wildest dream, to not feel reciprocated, to feel you are being used, while your needs drift down stream.
You endure the pain; you accept your fate every time, ignoring every warning, hoping this one is the last rhymes.
We do this always; we do this cause we are the ones that can handle the pain. We are the ones that are chosen to carry others through the rain.
"I'm never gonna love again" "I'm done trying to be happy", things we have all said, things that have made us all scrappy.
Your emotions run so deep, your emotions are on the edge of your sleeve, not everyone can handle this way, most people will run, most people will leave.
Butt, don't be tearful, don't be sad. You will always find love, no matter how horrible you've had.
Just remember people come into your life as blessings or lessons. Don't hold grudges life is too short, forgive easily and live free of obsessions.
Some people will come into your life to disturb it and cause chaos. The right people will bring you peace without making you feel like a boss.
My thoughts float to the Emperor penguin, showcased in "Happy Feet" finding their song partners. When you hear the right song, you won't have to question intentions. They make you feel safer and more hopeful as kindergartners.
As much as you think being hopelessly romantic is a curse, one day you find the one, you will find the one that will hold you tighter than a compact out of a prostitute’s purse...
No, no, no, that's too dark. Let me try another spark.
As much as you think being a hopeless romantic is a curse, you will soon find the one that will hold you tighter than a casket being held by a hearse...
Wow, dude, could you be any darker? You couldn't be any more darkening with a permanent marker.
As much as you think being a hopeless romantic is a curse, you will soon find the one that will hold you tighter than an arm being poked by a nurse.
M'kay, m'kay that's the one that sounds the best, that's the one that will show I'm not a mess.
It was an ordinary funeral,
nothing striking—except the strange restraint of the living.
The coffin, made of somber wood, bore an inscription,
succinct, sincere, almost brutal:
In this world, no one takes anything away.
And just below,
like the advice of an old master to his absent-minded disciple:
Be humble, and thank even your enemies.
Take pleasure, as much as you can, in your passage.
I stood there,
mute, wordless,
my heart suspended at the edge of the abyss,
and I reflected.
On those days we treat as possessions,
as if time obeyed our will.
On those objects we hoard—
when we fear we might mean nothing.
On those grudges we nurture
like cherished treasures.
On that “tomorrow” we distrust,
on the tenderness we muzzle,
on the forgiveness we ration
as if it were scarce currency.
On the life we neglect
in the name of a later no clause has ever guaranteed.
But the hour comes—inevitably—
when all is left behind.
What we thought we owned fades into shadow.
What we managed to give might endure.
A hand extended.
A gentle memory lodged in another’s mind.
Life is not measured by rewards.
It is felt in the trace of sincere impulses.
So live with integrity, with heart.
Love without contract or condition.
Laugh even if the order of the world wavers.
Weep if your soul overflows with pain.
Forgive without expecting anything in return.
And above all,
do not postpone
what, today,
might make life vibrate.
For that evening will come
when the dawn no longer breaks.
And on that day,
no one—
I say it plain—
takes anything away.
What About Tomorrow?
I really have something to say
Tomorrow's not promised today
We think we have forever
To get it together
Every day someone else is gone
Each day we make it
it's another day to hold on
Hold on to another day of life
Thanking God for his sacrifice
Sacrificing his son
For you and me
So we can live carefree
in this cruel world
full of hurt and sorrow
time is also borrowed
what you do keep the faith
tomorrow is not promised today
Tomorrow tomorrow
May not come
you don't have forever to get it done
tomorrow tomorrow
is near
doesn't necessarily mean you'll be here
do good works get it done
tomorrow may never come
Grudges
let em go
it is time to grow
grow within yourself
know your value
preclaim your wealth
if you look inside of you
you will really see the view
Tomorrow tomorrow
May not come
you don't have forever to get it done
tomorrow tomorrow
is near
doesn't necessarily mean you'll be here
do good works get it done
tomorrow may never come
come on children let's be the change
help me explain
to the audience to the crew
love you love each day
because tomorrow may never be seen
live everyday
live out your dreams
Tomorrow tomorrow
May not come
you don't have forever to get it done
tomorrow tomorrow
is near
doesn't necessarily mean you'll be here
do good works get it done
tomorrow may never come
Written by: Concetta Hardnett
3/3/19
Quite a grudges you hold,
Like the water in a pond,
Chained from the clutches of the past,
Death parts for all.
Let the love of the mother embrace one for the last time,
Changes are unpredictable,
Smiles can be seen all the times,
If the mask is put up.
Uncertain are these emotions,
Lurking for the goal,
Let the life dance for the last time,
Before being embrace by the lord.
Ravens may fly,
Leaving the rustled leaves behind
New moments are meant to bloom
Fishes are these emotions to be sunk by depths if the net is loose.
Let the sunshine embrace you,
Waited moments are meant to be near
If the lake is clear.
Confusing are these times,
If the guide is lost.
Darkness at bay
If the Lotus is near.
Butterflies blend in the vast,
Forget the past
And cherish the moment
If it has been given.
So I believe in many things but i also believe in not many things.
I believe that there are people who come and go in and out of your life to teach you something at that exact time that you needed them to be there, positive or negative it doesn't matter you learnt something from them. I've learnt that hate and resentment even the holding of grudges is like poison, it can take hold of you and slowly smoother you and take over your idea In a negative way. It's up to you to choice not to hold on to ugly things from the past and deal with them, or choice to forgive and move on. We can't change the way our choices made the past the way it was, but we can choose not to carry it into our today's and tomorrow's, be wise who wants to fill our tomorrow's with doom and gloom before we even get there? Let's choose to draw positive people, experiences, adventures even into our today and worry about tommorrow, tommorrow. Don't worry on what the future brings there's no rules or musts only your own trusts. To trust in your self to make good choices, to see the good in everything and to see the gift around us, what God gave us this beautiful land this place the birds, the sky the trees and the flowers how lucky are we? Why are we complaining? It's up to you, look at the big picture and choose well.
I was born where comets broke their promises,
where the night sky wore bruises
the color of forgotten kings.
The midwife held me up to the moon
and the moon hissed.
Not from hatred,
but recognition.
Something ancient had arrived
with stardust in its lungs
and venom in its veins.
I learned early
that beauty has fangs.
Roses defend themselves.
Galaxies swallow whole worlds.
Even angels carry swords
when the story demands it.
So I wandered,
a glittering contradiction,
collecting constellations in my pockets
and grudges in my shadow.
Lovers kissed my forehead
and tasted lightning.
Enemies drew blood
and found their own reflections
staring back from the wound.
Years passed.
Nebulas bloomed and collapsed.
Entire versions of myself
burned to ash
like letters tossed into sacred fire.
Yet here I remain.
Not untouched.
Not innocent.
But luminous.
A creature forged
from equal parts poison and wonder.
The stars taught me how to shine.
The venom taught me how to survive.
And on this birthday,
beneath a sky still writing my name,
I raise a glass
to every darkness I outlived,
to every dream that refused extinction,
and to the wild truth
that some souls are not born gently.
Some arrive
wearing stardust as a crown
and venom as a pair of wings. ???
I sometimes feel I am neither here nor there
My mind wandering there sitting here
I wish I was more here buts there gives me wings to fly
Here life is routine and wont take me to the moon
There I create and ride out my fantasy
To twinkle like a star or bloom like a flower
But here stuck in reality all drab and not fair.
So there I create my characters who reflect
bits and pieces of my fancy
Here my wins and losses wont matter when I am gone
There I get to showcase my talent of feelings weak or strong.
Here grudges resentments and frustration’s
will surely run me down
There I get to build myself up, sometimes
wearing a crown
Somewhere today in the middle,
with a smile and a frown
I step out of here and climb in there without a sound.
19.11.2020
Juxtaposition
Sponsor Silent One.
He sinks further into bitterness
with each sip of oblivion.......
slurping....gulping grudges and blame
with every malicious mouthful.
He remains suspended in cynicism;
hurtling missiles of misery mixed
with murky twisted memories in an
attempt to justify his tangled truth.
Untruths in reality, but his realism
is unreal.....swishing, diluted by
the destruction of hate; imbibed with
one more beer or glass of Merlot.
How sad this man frozen in animosity.
What a waste of precious time.
Life languishing in antipathy.
Pathetic intemperance.......
Put that bottle down sir -
drink this instead, savour it,
smell the bouquet, Beaujolais...
swallow the future, and spit out the past.
It's Wednesday, and Our Mandy has finished a shift.
Swaps blue scrubs for the doubled down indigo denim
Of the Wild West Midlands.
To the fringes of town to go - line dancing.
Our Mandy wears her heart on her sleeve in diamante.
Nursing courses her veins, it's how she operates -
Dedicates, medicates an infinity pool of calm
To the impatient patients.
Toes the line on the ward.
Though the job may be flawed, she is cured
By a dose of line dancing.
Our Mandy waits for her bus in the drizzle.
The dazzle and dizzle of dancing awaits.
Lit community hall, post-menopausal give it their all -
Forget yoga or zumba or dreams of the rumba,
Line dancing.
Our Mandy nods a greeting to Cardio Sue
And whispers, “Where's you know who?”
‘Fancy-boots-Frank’ believes he’s, ‘Top Rank’.
Frank's a step-up from the rest, so he thinks.
Twitches and winks, rhinestones and Stetson,
Good God! He can sweat some!
With his great big ideas and his little behind,
Frank is quite candid, one thing on his mind,
Cupid shuffle and, Our Mandy
He thinks himself funny, “Oi Mandy!
Step along with me - I'll be your Barry Manilow to your high!
Mandy, you’re ecstasy! “
Now small people can carry big grudges,
But needless to say she sends him away.
Our Mandy, she came and she gave without taking
His achey-breaky heart at line dancing.
And when Our Mandy leaves, adrenaline high,
She texts Sue from the bus home,
After - 'cause they know, as nurses, best medicine’s laughter.
An evil spirit dwells just outside,
The heart of every man;
Waiting for an open door,
Been there since time began.
This spirit seeks to cause unrest;
Slow, progressive destruction,
Of everything that we hold dear,
By clever, sly seduction.
It starts out with self pity,
Perhaps some jealousy,
Then anger shows it's ugly head,
To set the travesty.
Soon all the joy is gone from life;
No good can we find.
To all God's goodness, joy and hope,
We seem to have gone blind;
Because we listen to the whispers,
Going 'round inside our head,
And if we listen to the whispers long,
Our spirit soon is dead.
Don't let anger, hurt, jealousy and holding grudges take all the beauty out of your life.
That's one of Satan's biggest and best weapons, self pity.
Count your blessings not your curses.