Long Lost it Poems
Long Lost it Poems. Below are the most popular long Lost it by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lost it poems by poem length and keyword.
There is a hush no one can hear,
A breaking sound beneath the skin,
A fragile mind that disappears
While all the world goes rushing in.
It comes like dusk without a name,
Soft-footed through the light of days,
And dims the heart’s once steady flame
To ash that trembles in a haze.
The mother’s eyes grow tired and wide,
The father learns a wordless grief,
They stand beside what once was bright
And cannot summon its relief.
Love lingers at a bolted door,
Calling a soul that cannot stay,
Each answer fainter than before,
Each night more endless than the day.
And somewhere in the silent deep
A self is lost it cannot find,
While shadows gather, slow and steep,
Around the corridors of mind.
O tender life, so nearly whole,
How easily the thread is torn—
A wandering, unguarded soul
May wake in chains or not at dawn.
Yet still, beneath the weight of night,
A fragile pulse of morning lies—
If only hands could reach in time
To lift the darkness from its eyes.
There was a time when fire was sacred
We used it to cook, to warm, to speak to the dark together.
Now that same fire circles the world in silence
Sleeping beneath oceans of space
Dreaming of command... each nation whispering ‘safety’
Yet forgetting warmth forever.
We touch the flame again...
To prove we can still... feel
The race is not between nations; it is between consciousness
Silencing collapsing under booted heel.
___*___
When meaning fades, spectacle takes its place
Screens hum, elders vanish, stories thin to noise, leaving little trace.
Yet one ember still glows... The will to Pause, to care.
Or, must we go back again on a tyrant’s dare.
Light is not lost; it only waits for hands that remember…
Before the next siren, the next test, the next flame... bursting from embers.
Stop… Remember what first fire was for…
Then light your life for warmth again
As better learnèd men.
I had more money than I knew what to do with,
So I spent my nights completely doped up on drugs.
The theory that rich people are lazy is a myth.
I worked for my money, unlike the average thug.
I used to be a nice guy, with a daughter and wife,
But due to my horrible habit, I lost them one day.
I was supposed to protect them for the rest of my life,
But I forgot my priorities somewhere along the way.
I had a big house and a nice car, better than most.
It’s hard to believe, but somehow I lost it all.
Because I was rich, I thought, through life, I could just coast.
I never expected to be the one who would fall.
I was living high on the hog until I gave in.
I met some young punk who didn’t care about his kids.
It never occurred to me that doing drugs was a sin.
He convinced me to give up my morals, as he did.
I became greedy and lost all of my wealth.
I told the young punk to leave me alone, I couldn’t pay.
I was so weak and I was in such poor health
That I just sat there while he killed my family one day.
Is it my destiny to live this kind of life?
I’ll either end up in poverty or dead…or maybe both.
Do I really miss my daughter and my loving wife,
Or is it possible I never meant my wedding-day oath?
Will karma come for me when I least expect it?
Is there any justice in this world at all?
I guess, in the end, I don’t really give a sh%@.
When death comes for me, I’ll gladly answer the call.w
I have lost my lines on love ever since your birth.
Lines i did stepped on in your name
Lines i weaved from the deep to feel the quiet ocean.
I lost it all ever since your birth.
I lost my dawn to a hard water that couldn't moisturize my hair
That couldn't see my skin and breathe on it.
You came along with the tide and i had to breathe.
I was a solitary reaper
Reaping the black notes of my heart
Reaping and overflowing with the sound.
I sang to you in the rain and had the worst beating of my life.
My family had cremated my pictures even mother earth.
I just tried to lay my green hands on you and saw your agbor dance with the wind.
You are the only song i sing when the sun come visiting.
When all seems lost
That I walk alone
I find my inner peace
To go on with my life
We all have to walk alone
Finding our inner self
Learning our mistakes
Learning from them, regrouping
When all seems lost.
Never give up, someone is waiting
Looking over you, understanding
Shedding tears, with love
Knowing you have to walk alone
That they can't do this for you
Can't lift the burden from you
Waiting to share it and the grief
When all seems lost.
When the walk alone is done
Turn back to the love and caring
Share the tears and heartache
Let others share the heavy burden
Lightening the load, with love
Go on from there, remembering
Because when the walk alone is over
It's time for companionship and love
When all seems lost, it never is.
As a credo, freedom is a way of abounding.
It depicts the core of man and his existence.
A memory that calls for full understanding.
How can we scale liberty based on choice?
Giving up one's needs is incredible branding.
The hill is coated in a layer of atmosphere.
The Freedom Pub is where they mingle.
Bravery destroys the dark memory of fear.
Tears were denied their rightful dingle.
spirits who lament each soldier's tears.
When freedom is lost, it is ruined forever.
The need to gather for a heroic alliance.
Queries are obvious of someone so clever.
A sentence in stone, depicting defiance.
Freedom Pub asserts the overall endeavor.
3rd place contest winner
Written: January 04, 2022
Freedom Pub Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
I can't find it
I lost it
The keys don't FIT
things don't mean S$!&
I lost it
sparks gone, couldn't keep it lit
just needed an outlet
instead became a target
Can't get it
not in the right bracket
anytime Im one way they're the opposite
while I make the case, turn it into a basket
not sure if I should submit
or turn into a bandit
oh, the sky is the limit
must be why keeping me down is your favorite
even when I was the one with the credit
well, at least enough to fake it
not fake, just run it debit
nothing was ever low budget
then it blew up like a rocket
trade one for another bad habit
maybe I should just forfeit
cause ill never be in another's pocket
All of it
Can't find it
I think I'm losing it
I lost it
Don't think this is legit,
Darkness fills where there used to be a spirit.
Bit by bit
they made sure to keep me grounded
I think I see it
(let's get you into bed)
I think I see it
(take your pills, and rest)
I think I seen it...
(He lost it)
You lost it
I think I'm losing it...
I lost it.
There is a part of me missing
There is a part of me that shall never be
Inside of this dark sad brooding mind
Is the painter who will never see
So I take my pen, and vaso of wine
I contemplate
I get lost in the drunkenness of time
Stooped over my own memories on a sour palette
I had the brushes staring at the naked breast
My paints were frozen, at such beauties unrest
Erect and tall, at her feet I did fall
The blind painter, who lost it all
So now you see I am a poet of some seedy sort
Painting Braille, is poetry of my last resort
I write down words with the flourish of my pen
The Braille poet, cause painting I could not fend
I take words and wish them bountiful explosive colors
If only I had talent, a painter and not a story teller
So for me, in pain and clad in the cloth of sadness
I write words, for this painter has only Braille
I have no painting brushes
I possess no smile, wandering along on wistful miles
Of blindness, blowing in the winds of the frail
No map for the future, and yet I set sail
Hoping my words one day will be seen
By an artist who paints the soul and the serene
She takes my blindness and paints boldly my dreams
Taking my words, from Braille to bright pastel creams
Of my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant, but I knew that I possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, endued with a figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even of the same nature as man.
I was more agile than they and could subsist upon a coarser diet; I bore the extremes of heat and cold with less injury to my frame; my stature far exceeded theirs. When I looked around I saw and heard of none like me. Was I, then, a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned?
At length I felt my first stirring; still, at first, it was inward. I began to question what I was, and why I was there, what had become of me.
I was in some great confusion about my existence, my being.
Then I forgot my deformation and lost it, for I grew accustomed to all men.
So I began to grow at an abnormal rate, and my frame enlarged and grew. I, who could barely support my own weight, began to walk in a rough fashion, but in an unconscious way, and without taking heed of my position and how my limbs moved. As I began to eat and drink, my strength grew and developed, but my bones were straitened and cracked and my flesh was scabby.
My ability to bear pain was diminished and I suffered much, but I fared well. My constitution, it is true, was deficient and I needed much care, but I had acquired the means of overcoming my weakness.
And so I passed my days at the springs and in the woods, without interfering with the acts of the animals. I had learnt to behave kindly.
Just a few years back you couldn’t talk about colonic irrigation without getting a picture of a grimacing, painfully thin middle-aged woman with large breasts.
I AM MONSTER.
My heart is dry. Horror.
:: 03.29.2022 ::
Attackers plant malware on computer via a USB drive or SD card
Drone flies outside window with computer & analyzes the blinking LED lights
Lights create a Morse code-like pattern that can be translated into data
Experts suggests a method to disconnect fragile computers from the web
There were many and they were neatly stacked
inside my suave computer that once was hacked
when it came to content well, I know they lacked
but if I had a stick, at least they would be backed
When it came to poetry well, I was the cat's meow
but when it came to computers I could not avow
each poem contained I little bit of sweet endow
One day I lost it all my friend, nearly had a cow
The poems I almost wrote still sit inside my head
but I know those sneaky hackers, use power led
so now I hide my led lights and keep it all unsaid
each word still lives in me, my poetry isn't dead.
Oct 7,2022