Long Phoniness Poems
Long Phoniness Poems. Below are the most popular long Phoniness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Phoniness poems by poem length and keyword.
I guess I'm not important.
I guess I'm not that great.
Some people say I'm wonderful,
I look at them with hate.
I try really hard to believe them,
But their true colors always shine.
One minute I am fantastic,
The next minute they are blind.
They are blind to all my goodness,
My generosity and my heart.
I am one of the realest people,
That's what sets us apart.
Many people don't understand me.
It's sad they're missing out.
They would see all of my kindness,
That's what I am all about.
As Jesus said, "Forgive them Lord"
"They know not what they do".
They may not know they are hurting me,
It's very sad, but very true.
I do not wish any harm on them,
I just don't know what they think.
What is it that makes me so horrible?
My heart's beginning to sink.
How do I explain myself?
How do I get them to see?
To see the wonderful person,
The person inside of me.
Such fake smiles and kisses.
I see them look with phoniness.
I try not to give it back to them,
They should only know my loneliness.
Maybe I am neurotic and scared.
Maybe I come across wrong.
But it's the opposite of what they're thinking.
How do I stop my feelings from being so strong?
They think I'm bossy and pushy.
They think I stand too tall.
But in reality I am weak at heart.
They just don't know me at all.
My smiles are a cover up.
I am not happy with how I act.
I am trying my hardest right now.
More than I ever have in fact.
So how do I explain myself?
How do I get them to see?
See the wonderful person,
That person inside of me........
Form:
There's a darkness in me I've faced, chased, and sought erased. I've watched it grow and I've watched it shrink and it gave me time to think. This darkness exists purely of my own volition and I've given it voice and a mission. When I sift through the memories and drift through all the rifts and pains that stain my heart so badly I wish to rip it apart I find solace in one fact. One ironclad fact and that fact is that I still exist in a mist of pale blue hues and if I were to ever ignite the fuse it would set aflame my earnest muse. I was once told my eyes speak only lies. Then I was told my eyes held everything to despise and I cut ties with the world around me hoping to set free the darkness in me. Instead in that moment I made it grow larger until it threatened to consume. And I presume it was in that moment the pain would in fact resume. The darkness became a blight great enough to become my greatest plight on this nominal night.
But...there was another who said my eyes were wise and this dark guise was just a way to disguise a life of loneliness and phoniness. And maybe I can be forgiven when I've wanted to give in. A few seconds and one last breath, I was aware I could bring my very own death. But, send the Grim Reaper for I could not bring my own end. Reality around me could shatter but to at least one person I just want to feel like I matter. A person to hold me, and mold me into a being embraced not by the shadows but by the light. I'm running out of strength to fight this all on my own. A battle with demons is no battle to fight alone. Not when I've been shown I still have time to atone and reveal how much I've grown.
The truth is the darkness in me does not define me. Nor does it design me. It aligns with me. But ours is a marriage of circumstance and this dance is to be brief if I'm to ever find relief. So one last time I use rhyme to sap the strength of the shadows and wipe away all of the grime left behind. Tonight is the night I set free the darkness in me.
Hey, I’m Over Here!
Hey! I’m over here!
‘Case you were wondering if I was okay, I am.
I have no friends now so no one is checking up on me,
And I’m fine with not having friends anymore;
They’re all dead now, or there is a great distance,
A vast distance, between the old times and the now times,
I can see them all though, my departed chums from back there,
I remember their distinctive faces and voices still,
In movements at the old places, busy with life at the crossroads.
But they’re all gone away now and I am alone here.
But that’s okay because there is no phoniness when I’m alone,
And the voices you hear are phantom friends conjured
From the clay of half a century ago, alive again smiling and youthful,
All in a long line stretched beyond Hoover Street’s oleanders,
My ancient friends walking up to me with penetrating stares,
Wondering after so many years if I’m alive and if I’m okay.
And I am okay.
That long line of ghost friends has passed me by now, disappearing
Into a mental cloud still hovering in the blueness of my mind.
But hey! I’m over here!
‘Case you were wondering.
the platitudinizes
I have woken up to the world we inhabit
so, much double-speak, self-interest, egotism
and tame excuses make me physically ill
For many, it is about getting the upper hand
how to lure money out of the innocent
The law is ordered, and the guilty are often
forgiven by those they swindled.
We see through them, they are not willing
to help anyone unless it is beneficial for
them, then demonstrate their kindness
so the whole world can see their greatness
there is a greedy content to their action.
we have lived long enough we see phoniness
the glittering prizes, the hollow press
uncritically reporting on events that are based
on lies by the self-serving elite.