Long House of cards Poems
Long House of cards Poems. Below are the most popular long House of cards by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long House of cards poems by poem length and keyword.
Adorn the sky with stars
Paint the sea with clouds
Perchance the festering of emotions
And lingering divisions
Divinity is born from thought
Altruism is the father
Compassion is likely the mother
But fear is the result
Ancient ways delay
Civic progression over time
And a dilapidation of human morality
Constructed of misconstrued ideals
The great sea separates
Divided by mighty continents
Populated with critters
Eventually by humanity
The greatest truth
Is forged by a foundation of lies
Law codes are a house of cards
Fragile at best
Ancient ways are here to stay
Nostalgia is the blind God
Change is the sacrificed martyr
Parade a paradox of love and hate
I slowly fade away, like a candle melting under the weight of time,
My world collapses around me like a house of cards struck by the wind,
I need an outstretched hand to help me bear the overwhelming pain,
To soothe my soul tormented by waves of sadness that drown me in silence.
I drown in an ocean of pain, and my false smile is a mask worn daily,
I seek a hand to pull me out of this dark place that holds me prisoner,
I wither like a dying flame, and my voice is barely heard anymore,
I am scared and alone, succumbing to the darkness wrapping around me like a cloak.
I slip away from the light, my last breaths lost in eternity,
Maybe someone will see my pain and save me before I disappear completely,
Like an echo of a soul crying in silence, asking for help from beyond the shadows,
And maybe tomorrow, at dawn, I will find a ray of hope showing me the way to the light.
In these moments of turmoil, I await a miracle, a sign of divine mercy,
To bring me back from the abyss, to restore my courage to fight the inner demons,
And to remind me that every end can be a new beginning in the story of life,
A story written with tears and hopes, but also with the desire to never give up.
They built their kingdoms not on truth,
But on blood and stolen youth.
Their riches rose on broken backs,
Their glory paved with cold attacks.
Not thought, not craft, nor honest toil,
But looted lands and foreign spoil.
Their minds, not forged in sacred fire,
But fed by greed and false empire.
They called it freedom — masked in chains,
Their system thrives on others' pains.
A house of cards on shifting sand,
Now trembles at time’s final stand.
The South, long trampled, starts to rise,
With ancient fire in modern eyes.
From ashes now the Phoenix sings,
While dying West clips its own wings.
Their towers, wooden — soaked in lies,
Shall crumble beneath awakened skies.
Their money, myths; their power, rust,
Their future turns to ash and dust.
The wealth they hoarded, soaked in sin,
Will not protect the crumbling skin.
For justice walks with time and flame,
And calls each thief by secret name.
Oh Europe, dressed in silken pride,
Soon shall you run, with none to hide.
A refugee in lands once scorned,
By those you mocked, oppressed, and warned.
The beggar’s bowl your fate shall meet,
On once-colonized dusty streets.
The broken bones you once ignored,
Shall rise — now armed — to swing the sword.
No trust shall greet your outstretched hand,
No peace shall dwell within your land.
What’s stolen shall be torn away,
Your heirs shall curse your yesterdays.
A new world order takes its breath,
Beyond your grip, beyond your death.
Where balance reigns, not fraud nor fear —
The end of theft draws ever near.
There are no black or white people.
There are tones.
All lives matter.
Identity is personal and
no one else’s business.
Labels are sewn on
and are things apart.
All politicians, both good or bad
are in fact dictators. It’s always about
POWER not empowerment.
Freedom is a lie, however you can
live that lie in a free kind of way.
Patriotism is a noble lie
it will save you
from much worse more global lies.
To deny your heritage and culture
is to surrender to social engineering
and enslavement.
Good socialism is a lie, it never has
and will never work
for the good of the people
only for the few.
Democracy will always be vulnerable
to degeneracy within.
You have to fight, so learn how.
If a country does not protect its borders
it is no longer a country; it is a mob.
Education is a system to mold young minds
into ideologs and willing fools.
Most teachers are knowing
or unwitting tools of the State
a State seeking power over both you
them and your children.
It is already too late to avoid the lies
but keep defending the good lies
until the house of cards falls.
Ding dong the witch is dead
And her intersectional house of cards
Built on a shaky swamp of lies
Is now tumbling, blown away
And burned to the ground.
Who could not see this coming
10 years ago, five years ago, one year ago,
The inevitable backlash to tyranny?
The truth is it was always a toss up,
And it took a political groundswell
To open the doors to disinfection
By the cleansing power of light and air
Good old reason and common sense.
Gone are the days when DEI
Was forced down our throats
On our knees, hands tied behind our backs.
The witch with gun to our head may be gone
But her policies and lingering stench
Still fill the halls of power,
And like all things evil,
She can always rise from the dead.
Ding dong the witch is dead
So today we celebrate, dance and sing
And stomp the ground above her grave.
(2/21/26)
Rising up is how he finally found rock bottom
Most people's basement was his ceiling not their floor
Temptation draws a man into the darkness of his soul
While his past plays like a record, his hope lies at the core
He found the inspiration that he needed
With her love he knew he'd finally found the call
That answered all the questions, that kept playing on his mind
He knew he'd have to finally make, the rise before the fall
How did Heaven find him in this hell he wondered
And how's an angel make him fly without some wings
The demons he once carried, built the walls around his heart
They've all been razed, and he's amazed, cause now his slate is clean
He found the inspiration that he needed
With her love he knew he'd finally found the call
Like a house of cards still crumbles in its silence
He knew he'd have to finally make, the rise before the fall
Feelings unlike a bottle can't be placed back on a shelf
And soon his faith and happiness had been restored
Like a mountain rises from the deepest ocean
Where love once was a ceiling the sky is now the floor
And he found the inspiration that he needed
And he can thank the fall for rising from his depths
Love proves to span the great divide, that's found between two hearts
Building bridges that will never burn, that only love can manifest
Building bridges that will never burn that only love can manifest....
Childhood is a stranger, taken away,
pushed into games we do not want to play.
Of all the battles that I have fought it is this one which always surrounds me,
punchdrunk, forever looking the wrong way with eyes closed.
Life would be wonderful were it not for those 3am wakings,
those naked lunch moments,
where the camera pulls out and zooms in on life,
and I'm in the foreground.
This camera close-up always takes me by surprise,
I am never ready.
What is its obsession,
does it want my confession?
And what did I do anyway?
I just happen to be here, everyday.
None of this "blame" is mine,
in this cruel act, this pantomime.
This invented game of cheap charades
and I'll burn down your house of cards,
but not today.
Today the games are mine to play,
Now I will keep you locked away.
I'll keep you secret, I'll keep you near,
Now you'll live in endless fear.
One night the truth will creep into your room,
at 3am,
and slide under your covers.
And I along with all the others.
We'll use our words like a loaded gun,
you'll go to hell for what you've done.
They have so chipped at the foundation there is little left
Taking Gods' Word from this nation is like a constant theft
Just take a look around as seemingly every Nation is at war
Ourselves now so morally unsound and especially at our core
His Grace since lifted with His Name not even allowed in school
Oh how the devil has promptly sifted, so much so I can feel his drool
With our children now unprotected our country has begun to slide
And the one fact everyone has neglected is that satan hasn't even tried
So the house now stands, unborn soaking it's most lower walls
As these once sovereign lands now have a whole new set of laws
Even His Earth has begun to convulse as the waves know of His Way
Yet you it still doesn't repulse "for everyone is entitled to their say"
But when it does finally begin to fall it won't take very long
If you can't now hear His Call why then would you be so strong
Yet a few cards will stand despite what happened to the rest
Oh this poor ravaged land, which once was so very blessed
Soon as you think you have it all together
A gust of wind knocks down the house of cards
I thought I was starting to get the hang of me but now I don't know which hand I'm playing
Holding a full hand only to get straight flushed down the toilet
The tissue is gone because I've been crying and blowing my nose like I'm sick
Well, I'm sick of you
So, sick I run right back to you
I can't shake this cold from the shivers of loneliness
And you're only a text away
Another road to you filling potholes with broken concrete
Feels like my heart is set in stone because it's hard to move away from you
Even though it's better for you...
I say to myself
Well, this will be the last time
Which is what I said the last time
Lying to myself to feel better about the poison I continue to digest as if it's healthy for me
Maybe you're good for me
Lying to myself
p.s. when are you going to tell the truth...
A boy and shore leave
The 15 years old boy was standing on the poop deck of an old tank ship
late at night, looking up at the millions of stars over
The Red Sea.
His job was to clean pots and pans in the galley ruled over by a cook
who hated the world and everybody in it.
The boy had tried to sit in the mess hall where older seamen
sat, drinking coffee and playing cards, but they had made fun of him
saying he looked like a girl the way he folded his arms.
His left nibble was swollen when he pressed on the nipple, white
stuff came out, he wondered if he was turning into a girl.
In his cabin, he had found pornographic pictures by looking at them
he decided he was very much a boy.
In a rough society like this, there was no one to talk to about his
feelings, a forbidden word, like constructing a house of cards and
pulling the bottom card away.
A burst dam of feelings by those who had kept their loneliness
hidden, not being able to tell anyone about a rotten childhood, a miserable life punctuated by shore leave, with drink and whores
of Rotterdam.
The boy giggled at the thought of seeing bearded men wailing
about their misery; nevertheless, the next time the ship docked in
Rotterdam, he would go ashore to see what it was all about.