Long Panicking Poems

Long Panicking Poems. Below are the most popular long Panicking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Panicking poems by poem length and keyword.


Red Eyes and Sinister Looks

Chains, hay forks, knives, and a hollow whisper,
become more true and sinister.
Halt in the middle of the moon light, 
and a waver image soon is no delight.
Voices run a muck in the head, 
so not calming you wish you were dead.
Gushing blood through the eye
not an image that you would rely.
Nails stuck on your neck with such pain
so your paralyze just little life sustain.
Hoodlums terrorizing people running a muck
did not really know they are in luck.
More dangerous beings are out their
to commit such act and with sinister stare.
Laughing with haunting echo's through
is an aspect of fear can imbue.
The wind changes direction to smother
the echoing sound of laughter.
The panicking state that you are in
soon drives a knife within.
Blood rushing out of your vain
a crucial part of your life dropping like rain.
Running without a destination
you will never reach anyone of your relation.
Sliding your body on a wall
keeping your fall in a stall.
Red eyes you can see it at night
is soon devouring you with little bite.
Changing your belief with tonics of relief
and it is to late to turn a new leaf.
Ears start to deceive the animals sound
eating limbs are chewing around.
Slowly your red eyes steadily getting heavy
is starting to take your life with a levy.
Dropping down with no attitude
and your life force slowly loses altitude.
Breathing comes not so easy
smelling flesh seems so beastly.
The change comes a desire
with frightening red eyes of fire.
Comes more lethal than the hoodlums 
your heart beating like drums.
Your hand becomes all fury
claws come out and your howl with furry.
Trance your in with no one to blame
a rage thats hundreds of centuries of flame.
Rising from a slumber of long lust
a animal instinct that you can trust.
Tearing things apart with no meaning
is a trait that is so deceiving.
Red eyes at night you see in a window
like a poisonous black widow.
Keeps you in attack mode of insanity
that takes all your vanity.
Ferocious emotions eating away
the soul that you had once betray.
The echoing sounds of loud thunder
breaks away the armor with sunder.
You fall once again to torturous agony
the feeling of one self is so lonely.
Shaking in the corner you are found
with blood soaked skin you drowned.
The night becomes day cruel in some way
your memories go in disarray.
The hunters with torches and sinister look
had parted way their hands shook.
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Favorites

Most of my classes suck (by that I mean they’re difficult). English is ok - especially the writing. I’d never want to major in English Literature though. It’s one of the hardest majors at Yale. It may be harder than Pre-med. They make it hard to discourage people from choosing it. If you don’t love literature, don’t live and breathe books and writing, you’ll *never* navigate the major.

Despite English being her third language, Leong is an excellent proofreader (which I need).

“Put an emoji in there,” Leong recommended, “it’ll show you’re chill and not panicking.”

“No emojis! I said, shocked, “This is supposed to be professional.” Still, every time I submit a draft the professor says it’s good (an “A”) and I’m done. 

Sir Paul McCartney is at Yale today, talking about a book he wrote, I think. They’re piping his music all over campus. I don’t have time to see him, but his “Ram” album is one of my all-time favorites. I know people have their favorite Beatle, but I think Paul has, by far, the most lyrical solo career.

Lisa and I just arrived at the fitness center (in the residence basement) we’re the only three there. Peter (my BF) got there ahead of us, about 30 minutes ago. He’s been working out on one of the weight machines. He’s tall and fit, with black-almost blue hair and a new beard. Sweaty and shirtless, he’s a take-your-breath-away spectacle. The sight of him jangled up and down my libido. I felt myself groan inwardly. “Put on a shirt!” I said. 

He comes over to where I’ve taken a seat. The sun is coming in at an angle which reveals that the air between us is filled with dust motes but now he looks like he’s a model standing in a spotlight. I just look at him and smile wickedly. “Why,” he says, getting very close.

“Because you’re distracting!” I answer laughing, as I push him away, “and I have a TON of reading to do.”

I like to read while I’m walking on the treadmill. He tries to nuzzle me as I step up. “Look,” I say, “If I can finish my reading (~200 pages) by dinner, I‘ll have something special for you.” 

“Like what?” he asks, smiling and suddenly interested.

“Something for you to look back on when you’re a very old man.” I whisper.

“What are we standing around for?!” He demands, putting my chemistry book and water bottle on the treadmill and stepping away to slip on his t-shirt.

Premium Member Armageddon

Turned on the TV to see what they'd say
There's crowds in the streets all around the UK
Shelves being ransacked at Tesco all day
It's happening too in the U S of A

My TV depicting an end, clearly near
With Donald Trump there and Brexit right here
Then back to the masses, although it’s unclear
Whether it's panic or madness or fear

They're showing us scenes of emptying shelves
With mobs going frantic, all out for themselves
TVs get lifted from where they were racked
It's easy to see that society's cracked

Hoarders are scooping up baked beans and bread
Brand names all gone, own label instead
'Food for my family', is what one said
'I've got to provide for fear they'd be dead’

Coffee and alcohol, biscuits and cakes
Sausages, burgers, bacon and steaks
Folk grab at board games with ladders and snakes
And luxury watches, both real ones and fakes

And now the news treats us to Donald Trump's face
He's saying he's set for a nuclear race
He's gonna build brick walls all over the place
Cos the US is full and there ain't no more space

So they're panicking far and they're panicking near
The whole of the western hemisphere 
The Ruskies have nukes and they're all pointing here
It seems that the mobs are in justified fear

Then back to the markets and bustling streets
Shopping bags bulging with with copious eats
Vegetables, fruit and myriad meats
All crammed into car boots and on the back seats.

Now we view traffic jammed up standing still
Ambulance racing to someone who's Ill
Drivers attempting to show some goodwill 
No room to manoeuvre though sirens are shrill

Then back to the clambering hands and shelves bare
Frantic swipes reach for the last items there
Desperate housewives all pulling out hair
Their trollies still holding a square inch of air

As fighting breaks out in aisle number eight
Some fellow bought milk... An entire crate
But what made the other bloke really irate?
The last crate was grabbed by the first bloke's mate

I turn in shame from my TV
Can't bare to see the things I see
Where once we had humanity
This war has brought depravity

But as I turn, the room to leave
I hear the words I can't believe
Do my eyes and ears deceive?
This is not war... It's Christmas Eve
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Armageddon

Turned on the TV to see what they'd say
There's crowds in the streets all around the UK
Shelves being ransacked at Tesco all day
It's happening too in the U S of A

My TV depicting an end, clearly near
With Donald Trump there and Brexit right here
Then back to the masses, although it’s unclear
Whether it's panic or madness or fear

They're showing us scenes of emptying shelves
With mobs going frantic, all out for themselves
TVs get lifted from where they were racked
It's easy to see that society's cracked

Hoarders are scooping up baked beans and bread
Brand names all gone, own label instead
'Food for my family', is what one said
'I've got to provide for fear they'd be dead’

Coffee and alcohol, biscuits and cakes
Sausages, burgers, bacon and steaks
Folk grab at board games with ladders and snakes
And luxury watches, both real ones and fakes

And now the news treats us to Donald Trump's face
He's saying he's set for a nuclear race
He's gonna build brick walls all over the place
Cos the US is full and there ain't no more space

So they're panicking far and they're panicking near
The whole of the western hemisphere 
The Ruskies have nukes and they're all pointing here
It seems that the mobs are in justified fear

Then back to the markets and bustling streets
Shopping bags bulging with with copious eats
Vegetables, fruit and myriad meats
All crammed into car boots and on the back seats.

Now we view traffic jammed up standing still
Ambulance racing to someone who's I'll
Drivers attempting to show some goodwill 
No room to maneuver for sirens so shrill

Then back to the clambering hands and shelves bare
Frantic swipes reach for the last items there
Desperate housewives pulling out hair
Their trollies still holding a square inch of air

As fighting breaks out in aisle number eight
Some fellow bought milk... An entire crate
But what made the other bloke really irate?
The last crate was taken by the first bloke's mate

I turn in shame from my TV
Can't bare to see the things I see
Where once we had humanity
This war has brought depravity

But as I turn, the room to leave
I hear the words I can't believe
Do my eyes and ears deceive?
This is not war... It's Christmas Eve
Form: Rhyme

Honor of Friendship-Part Three

Once again silence envelopes me, like a thick blanket choking me, thrashing and panicking I wish to escape and wonder why you have left me like this? Why you have left me with such emptiness, such silence, digging into me, ripping me apart… “Please, do not abandon me…” I wish to say, to plead…to beg, but no words escape me for I can no longer breathe.
All I did was listen, that’s all I’ve ever done, and then…you’re gone and I feel so alone…so alone. Lost in a never ending darkness, floating aimlessly and I cannot find my way. All I did was listen, all I’ve ever done was listen, I was only ever by your side. Was that not enough? Did you want more? What more can I give? Please, tell me why must you hide, why must the silence over take us-me? Why must I be left on the sidelines…why must I be forgotten…?
When you speak with others, can you not speak with me as you speak with them? Do you feel shamed when spending time with me? Must our friendship be hidden? I do not understand… I wish to, I wish so much to understand you but I cannot. I cannot see when my only light is gone.
They are the only ones for you, they are your friends…I am the forgotten one. Abandoned; left behind, in silence, darkness, and sorrow. They are the ones for you, they are the ones you love, they are the ones you praise and honour…What am I? what am I?
Why do I surround myself around you, why do I care so much, when you obviously care so little? Do you even care at all? Am I just someone to fill the space, am I just someone to pass the time with until you can be with your real friends, once again leaving me on my own…

In glowing light you saturate them in words of precious gold, honors adorned by you electing them to be your true friends. Telling me that you adore them, love them, so; that they listen quite often to what you say, that you can tell them anything without fear of them judging you and all the while I listen to such high praise. As you bestow upon them the highest honor one can receive from you-the gift of true friends- I listen as you continuously adorn them with riches of words…

What am I to you? WHO am I to you? Will you ever say, will I ever know? Is there anything to say, anything to know? Or shall I always be left in the dark silence?
Form: Narrative


The Pitfalls of Perfection

Everyday it seems i’m the victim of a false perception,
One I wish was true, but I am far from fulfilling the definition of perfection.
But people perceive me to be, form their remarks I can tell, 
They think too highly of me, i’m put on a pedestal.
I appreciate it, I do, they make me smile and i have faith in myself too,
But sometimes, I find myself wishing they didn’t think of me the way they do.
Because everyday on the receiving end of one remark or another,
I  constantly feel something heavy weighing down on my shoulder.

“Oh you didn’t studying, you’ll still get full marks.” 
I won’t, I don’t, I can’t.
“Of course you were panicking for no reason, highest in the class!”
But I was being genuine about how i felt.
“You get full marks in everything.”
No i don’t, I have my fair share of bad grades.
“A 14 on 15 is bad for you isn’t it?”
It isn’t, but is it wrong to aspire to be the best? 

“And the highest mark goes to—”
All eyes fall on me, I’m terrified of being a let down. 
If my names reaches my ears, I exhale, I haven’t disappointed,
If not, I turn red, happy for the other person but filled with embarrassment.
It seems to them that problems aren’t mine,
and even if they ‘exist’ they believe i conquer them i time.
But only I know the truth 
The way I feel takes ages to soothe 

I fear to let myself and others down, to disappoint,
It comes as no surprise that it is my greatest feat in life.
Every second of every day I am consumed by this phobia, 
I’m petrified, I know it will drive me to the edge of hysteria.
But as a girl in her teens, isn’t that too much of a burden to bear?
I wish i was free, I wish I had to the ability to not care,
But I don’t, it hurts me, it scares me,
I often wish i wasn’t born in this body. 

I cannot and do not blame anyone for the way I feel, 
It's so easy to convince yourself that others aren’t real. 
I’ve felt that way about so many others, they seem so perfect,
And I suppose now writing this poem makes me a hypocrite. 
As the saying goes, the grass is greener on the side, 
Things are never as they seem from the outside.
Almost impossible  it seems to put yourself in someone else's shoes, 
To feel as your own, their views and blues.
Form: Rhyme

A War Without Guns

A war without gun send the people on the  run.
A war without gun thats the best thing that the world could have done.No guns, no bullets,no knives
Just the virus is making them pay the price.
Airplanes are grounded, schools are closed
And the army is on the look out.Big guns in hand
And the military getting ready to sing their song
Big guns but no bullets they parade around the street
With guns pointed in the air, there is nothing to fear.
A strange mood is sweeping through the air 
that is causing people to fear, you can feel it 
But you cannot touch it, it  creates a mystical mood 
and it leaves everyone confused.Something dangerous is 
hapening that leaves everyone panicking, the sun is getting hotter and the frantic mood is burning up the place.Something just is not feeling right especially when
You have made so much sacrifice, man can hardly come
To terms with himself, heaven has finally make him bend.Humility burns like fire in his soul he has to  stand up and be bold and open the next chapter before he grow old.Mankind racing against time look for everything that is divine.The music has finally toned down
and everyone is listening to a different sound.
They are buying out the store and food is ration more and more.The cars are lined up in the street getting ready for the final decree, everything will soon be 
lock  down and the real impact will be felt all over the land.Man will drop like mice in the streets and he has to
Play to his own heart beat.The weak, the old and the innocent will have to face their own consquences.
And when the day is done, victory will  be on the run.
The world will wake up to a new song when this battering is done.Say sorry when you can say sorry.
Say sorry and you don"t have to worry.Powerless guns whose point is blunt bacame silent as corono rip through the place.Vinigar and salt will help to calm the storm.
Vinigar and sugar will sooth your liver.Garlic and spice
Has everything that is right.School children tumbling dowdown the street cannot understand the motion that is in their hand.Time is closing in and everyone will have to pay for their sins.Get up and go.You are fighting a war
Without gun and victory is on the run.
Form: Narrative

Life On the Mad Wheel

When all the world stood on the edge and a quivering
panicking with the promise of nuclear war

And altogether the enemies kept their positions 
built their arsenals to keep on threatening

But no one really knew for sure 
and no one knew what for

Everyone building their fallout shelters
in their basements, in their gardens and their souls
duck and cover 
detectors and defectors
those rats a scurrying 
had everybody running 
to the safety of their holes

Still the senseless spreading the paranoia
and their governments will accuse the destroyer

Ideologically divided
all the arguments are forever one-sided
and so humanity never stands together  

If we can't resolve this high-flown political problem
with their fingers poised over the war-machines button
global obliteration
yes its got be 
the final solution

! Mutually Assured Destruction !

But then there's no one left to spend their cash
no one left to clean up their mess
and there's no one there to save them from 
the fallout's radiation when it comes

Round and round the wheel we keep on turning
a different story but its just as menacing

Find an economic solution to the global problem
of controlling the planetary population

Another way to implement segregation
and prove their supremacy to themselves
find another way to turn this paradise into hell

Another way to turn them each and everyone 
and make the enemy of themselves
another way to spin it all 
and turn them round and around our wheel

But no one really knows for sure 
and no one really understands 
what the wheel is for

And everyone hears the media sirens warning
danger with fear as the threat is coming 
and now you'll need a microscope to see
how invisible ICBM's can really be 

With their fingers poised over the war-machines button
Mutually Assured Profit 
is now the solution
and everyone believes a needles tip will be
the only way to solve the problem

And now all the lies are calling you for a truce
just to keep you distanced from the truth
as the whole world stands a quivering on the edge
the wheels been turned
and the weapons arsenals have returned
war

Life On the Mad Wheel

When all the world stood on the edge and a quivering
panicking with the promise of nuclear war

And altogether the enemies kept their positions 
built their arsenals to keep on threatening

But no one really knew for sure 
and no one knew what for

Everyone building their fallout shelters
in their basements, in their gardens and their souls
duck and cover 
detectors and defectors
those rats a scurrying 
had everybody running 
to the safety of their holes

Still the senseless spreading the paranoia
and their governments will accuse the destroyer

Ideologically divided
all the arguments are forever one-sided
and so humanity never stands together  

If we can't resolve this high-flown political problem
with their fingers poised over the war-machines button
global obliteration
yes its got be 
the final solution

! Mutually Assured Destruction !

But then there's no one left to spend their cash
no one left to clean up their mess
and there's no one there to save them from 
the fallout's radiation when it comes

Round and round the wheel we keep on turning
a different story but its just as menacing

Find an economic solution to the global problem
of controlling the planetary population

Another way to implement segregation
and prove their supremacy to themselves
find another way to turn this paradise into hell

Another way to turn them each and everyone 
and make the enemy of themselves
another way to spin it all 
and turn them round and around our wheel

But no one really knows for sure 
and no one really understands 
what the wheel is for

And everyone hears the media sirens warning
danger with fear as the threat is coming 
and now you'll need a microscope to see
how invisible ICBM's can really be 

With their fingers poised over the war-machines button
Mutually Assured Profit 
is now the solution
and everyone believes a needles tip will be
the only way to solve the problem

And now all the lies are calling you for a truce
just to keep you distanced from the truth
as the whole world stands a quivering on the edge
the wheels been turned
and the weapons arsenals have returned

The Monster Within Pt Ii

It’s been a couple days since the monster has been seen. 
The boy has resurfaced, he’s not lost sight of the path. 
The angel still glowing, her hair still flowing,
The curly locks float in the summer breeze. 
The boy knows what he has to do. 
The monster held at bay by the boys depression. 
As long as the boy can keep his depression and hope coinciding,
The monster will not return. 
A manic period, sure to bring a rise to the monster. 
Doing everything he can, the boy tries to subdue the monster. 
The boy thinks to himself, if he dies, ultimately the monster dies too. 
Running through the darkness, the boy comes to the cliff. 
He hesitates, but he stares down into the abyss. 
Images of loved one filter through his mind,
Images of the curly haired angel. 
Crying he steps forward, two steps away. 
The monster is quiet, waiting in awe. 
One more step further, now one step away. 
Suddenly he hears behind him, 
Crying from the angel. 
Though he cannot hear her voice,
He sees her lips moving. 
“Don’t do this.” She mouths,
But the boy is determined. 
He looks from the angel, back to the depths below. 
Readying to take the last step,
He turns one more time to see the angel fading away. 
Panicking he leapt backwards,
Looking at the angel. 
The angel materializes whole again, 
Again speaking. 
This time he can hear it. 
“I haven’t lost hope, I haven’t given up. Neither should you.”
Tears roll from both their eyes, the boy nods steadfast and ready. 
He walks back to the path, the angel still keeping her distance, 
But she’s closer than before. 
He sees her now, her whole face. 
He weeps uncontrollably as he walks the path,
He remembers her face, he remembered the time before the monster,
When he was with her. 
He’s got to defeat this monster within,
But it takes time. 
He realizes that, and even though he wants to hold her lovingly again,
He knows that he needs to find his wings. 
Truly speaking, for the first time in years,
“My love, I will find my way back into your arms. I will be a better man than I ever was. I will find my way back home to you. Just don’t give up hope....please..don’t give up hope.”
© Steve M.  Create an image from this poem.
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