Long Lifeage Poems
Long Lifeage Poems. Below are the most popular long Lifeage by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lifeage poems by poem length and keyword.
However long can feelings be pure?
How long we have endured to survive?
So much things we learn to adore
To only have so much left to die
Too much assumption became life we knew
Always too eager to judge before even an outcome
If to believe… will life we know to be real?
Must we all learn contentment if age shall run?
Some grew too old to embrace
Some too young to achieve lesser then to understand
With time… moments given to face
Will there always be a helping hand?
Irony endures… because we need people to judge
No matter age to even determine what’s left
A world left… building to leave only as such
Money’s worth… is it worthy for life’s theft?
Every one way… did we not seek out?
However long we have endured to survive….
Achievements abandon for tomorrow’s doubt
Did we ever have so much before to die…?
Sweet,
bitter,
or in between.
Maybe a little of both.
Jeckle and hyde,
or more like
Jacklyn and Hilda,
split personalities,
I love em all,
big or small
red hair and all.
Women,
girls,
I love em all,
Mostly in between.
See,
I'm at twenty six,
fixed,
on older women
above age twenty three.
To me,
these are the ripening years,
when girls become women.
When what they want become
natural as spring water.
I have
tasted the juices
of many vintages.
Like a ripened wine.
Like a grape,
turned from sour to sweet.
like a mango mixed delicately
with a peach.
Older, mature woman
are what I fancy.
I compare to an exquisite
Cabernet,
Or
like the Martini's I drink dry.
Why do I like older women?
Why?
I have tried,
experimented with youth,
only to find an
abundance of
drama queen
feelings.
Wild emotions that flare
with each conversation,
with each vacation
I take to the pub,
or to the club.
Each accusation
is followed by my
truth.
Still,
she'll explode.
I then realize it is her
youth.
I love em all though,
all shapes, sizes
and creeds.
To satisfy my hunger,
to satisfy my needs.
Most times
I like my coffee black
sugar sweet
no cream.
I mix my
vanilla cappuccino,
her milk frothed
until she steams.
I think back,
remember,
this woman age
thirty nine.
She must have had the
ingredient to the fountain of youth.
In truth,
a pure "dime".
A dime piece,
slang,
for a magnificent woman,
a stunning woman.
She would take me to
unexpected feelings, places
buried deep inside my mind.
she was kind!
This beautiful woman,
age thirty nine....
Jared Pickett
4/28/07
Asavvy1