Long Quit Poems
Long Quit Poems. Below are the most popular long Quit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Quit poems by poem length and keyword.
"I wish I knew how to quit you"
You are my love addiction, dear,
Bound together by passion glue,
My heart with yearning, you did sear,
How to quit you, I wish I knew,
My love addiction, dear, you are,
Each day by day, my desire grew,
I am your moon, you are my star,
Between you and me, this flame burns,
This fervent ardour will not die,
It's an intense fire with returns,
It makes me smile, it makes me sigh,
Life with you is a fairy tale
With twists, but a happy ending,
Your manly scent, when I inhale,
To seventh heaven, you're sending,
I crave for you each day and night,
Our connection will glow anew,
Over time, we shall grow more tight,
Glad I don't know how to quit you.
- D
He was always at the same spot, least everyday I passed
In the snow, rain, cold or really hot his shadow was cast
He never really said much or took people out of their way
But many people he did touch his sign just saying to pray
Some people would stop and talk, some a smile on their face
Others would just continue to walk uneasy in just such a place
Some would toss a wave or a smile and that became everyday
And yet all the while it was the man with the sign just saying to pray
And as the subways roared in and the next wave would pass by
We have all fallen in our own sin as so being one reason why
And there read other reasons too all stenciled neatly on his sign
But today there was something new right there on the very last line
Perhaps you never gave Him a thought each day in passing him by
Up until now you never sought and didn't think that you'd ever try
But it was that last line wasn't it that finally did draw you near
The fact that the old man never quit, to you that finally did adhere
A New Day’s Climb
Kevin Davis 2023
I woke up ready—
new day, new shot—
but the noise?
The noise wouldn’t stop.
Telling me, reach higher,
go farther,
be more.
Man…
I just wanted a new car.
But I reached anyway.
Not for the shine—
for the chance.
For something better
than just getting by
on circumstance.
Promotion on the table—
I took it.
Didn’t flinch.
Even when the weight of it
sat heavy on my chest
like a clinch I couldn’t slip.
More pressure.
More problems.
More eyes watching what I do.
But also—
more proof
of what I already knew.
I’m built for it.
New doors opened—
not quietly.
They swung wide
with responsibility.
And yeah—
challenges came.
Of course they did.
But I met them—
head-on.
No backing up.
No “maybe later.”
No “I’ll get to it.”
Just done.
And when the day got long—
when doubt tried to creep in—
Home was there.
Steady.
Unshaken.
My wife—
my reason
to keep going
when the climb feels endless.
We don’t fold.
We don’t quit.
We rise.
Together.
Every step forward
a reminder—
I didn’t come this far
to stay where I’ve been.
That fire?
Still there.
Still burning.
And now I see it—
clear as ever—
This isn’t just about success.
It’s about growth.
It’s about purpose.
It’s about building a life
where happiness
walks right beside the grind.
And this time—
I’m not chasing it.
I’m living it.
It felt like I was actually diving into the abysses
Touges start rolling, but it was my actual first kiss
A feeling when every limb in your body goe’s weak
Up until then it was nothing but a peck on the cheek
And she asked why I was shaking, what's wrong
Still now I wonder why I was waiting for that long
Because I never knew of anything so bliss or rife
That first kiss brought in me a new lease of life
And what I felt was a shiver, was a feeling of rejoice
And you could hear the quiver that was in my voice
At first it was freighting, not knowing what to expect
But too it was exciting when to sets of lips connect
A guy who meets this girl and gets lost in thy embrace
A syh,and a murmur her mouth soft and sweet the taste
Our heads moving right to left, stroking each others hair
A loss of breath, but I don't ever want to come up for air
And it's something I still miss, you know when she left me
Has to be better than the kiss of death, just like poison ivy
Mesmerizing, no one before has ever felt quit the same
Satisfying ,maybe she was familiar with the kissing game
I KIND OF LEFT THIS TILL THE LAST MINITE SO PROBABLY
NOT A GREAT DEAL OF THOUGHT OR THOUGH I DID TRY
TO DELVE DEEP IN TO THIS TO CAPTURE THAT ELEMENT
THIS FOR THE POET DESTROYERS CONTEST THE KISSING GAME
WRITTEN AUGUST 2012...................
p.s use'd your title at end as could not find words to finish
but thought also it would be a nice homage to your self
x david scott this is actually based on a true event
back in february i1998 which Ive probably mentioned
about her in other poems ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Every echo that falls from your shadowed line,
Or silence that hums like a hymn half-said
Ah, I hear… sorrow speaks through you
So yes, I know —You're the song my soul has bled
Each branch that bows where the breeze once played,
Or the stillness where sunlight used to stay
Ah, I see… beauty fades without you
So yes, I know —I miss the color in my day
But still I trace your melody
In every quiet space
And when I close my eyes
I find your face
So even if you say:"No, I won’t be okay..."
I’ll carry your light
Through the darkest days
Even if it hurts
And you’re far away
I’ll hold your voice
And I’ll keep singing anyway
Every taste turns hollow where sweetness was,
Every stolen joy now stings like truth
Ah, I feel… you were warmth in winter
So yes, I know —I was home when I had you
Each hour I fold into paper dreams
Or wear like clothes that don’t quite fit
Ah, I know… my time waits for yours
So yes, I know —But love won't quit
So I’ll write you in my silence
Sing you through my ache
Even in the shadows
You’re the sound I’ll make
Even if you say: "No, I won’t be okay..."
I’ll carry your light
Through the breaking day
And if the notes fall wrong
Or my voice gives way —I’ll hum your name
And I’ll keep singing anyway!
If I knew one thing as I was growing up,
it was wrapped in two words: 'Love and Security'.
I never felt threatened or exhibited fear of others.
There was a psychologically protected shield around me.
I longed for one, but never had a bicycle growing up, but
Love, food, clothing, and shelter were never at risk.
I felt protected by my parents, their friends, and mine.
There were also at least two things that flowed like water
gushing steadily along The Mississippi with 'a no-quit spirit'.
There was the ever-present sound of blues and Motown music.
And secondly, the county was dry but always filled with 'moonshine';
And there was always plenty of legal alcohol just across the county line.
Being taught The Lord's Prayer and the 10 Commandments in
public school was normal and no less important than reading,
writing, and arithmetic. The waistline of most was firmly fitted
by the Bible belt, and the fear of and respect for God was
genuine and real.
There were two other things of a different sort but very much American.
Baseball was the greatest sport in my community and the love of my life.
There were all kinds of foods and pies but none were better than Mama's apple pies.
He didn't want to leave wondering why he had to go
His heart would soon grieve and this began to show
Crying out in complete anguish his pain flowing out
All this he would miss his mind so filled with doubt
The sun now setting as the time has now since come
As there he was in so fretting his body feeling numb
With so few others now around he sensed this was it
He knew he was homeward bound, it was time to quit
In one last desperate sigh he slowly closed his eyes
Crying out in asking why little did his heart realize
He was lifted up off the ground into the Fathers Hands
Quickly life became sound as the child now understands
The two now walk as One for the Father knows the Way
Such a love for the Son that it grows with each new day
Tucking him into bed and still seeing that slight sorrow
The father said, we'll go back to the sandbox tomorrow
look me in my eyes but dont show signs of fear
call me with a whistle thats how i know your here
walk me with conviction and hold your head up high
because for you and only you, you know that i will die
if you feed me when im hungry and rub my head and chest
i will protect you to the end with my last dieing breath
people call me vicious and say that im no good
but a heart of a true pit bull is something they never understood
i use to fight for you and you knew i never quit
i never understood why you threw me in that pit
its time for you to take a stand and speak in my stead
because a pit without its owner might as well be dead
loyalty to our owner was our only goal in mind
our stories told through history in books and over time
the "pit" is our domain where we matched in dirt and mudd
and whence the chain came of our necks our breed was forged in blood
when we crossed that line a cur you will not see
because a dog that turns its tail is dog that will not be
this was our way of life this was also our creed
without the game in us you have lost the entire breed
quatrain
Resolved to quit, a collection betrays my dear Mona.
Hers are the ones marked by colorful stain.
Her obsession likens her to my aging Smith-Corona.
It’s coughing just now as if in great pain.
Its lungs store a shiny bobble divorced from Mona's ear,
three of her Lucky Strikes all out of smoke…
My functional machine has other favorite souvenirs
including a guarded flight stub, no joke.
She was a stewardess, last year when I met my sweet “Mo”
and I became her first passenger goof.
That is, the first one on whom she spilled a hot cup of joe.
My versatile cabinet holds the proof.
Mona needs to smoke; she is addicted to nicotine.
Maybe she’ll change brands when I light her fuse.
Two new keepsakes - ads from both Life and Post magazine
claim, “Camels, the brand which more doctors choose.”
set in this 1930-40's era, this piece focuses on the cigarette industry.
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1470496/
2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 12 Contest // Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Contest Judged: 8/31/2025 8:56:00 AM
( 2nd Place )
Written: August 29, 2025
I did not come here to sprint.
I came to gather the pulse of the road,
to feel the gnaw of silence
against the bones of my resolve.
Each step is a revolution
against tiredness,
against the voices that murmur quit,
against the burden of what I once carried.
The horizon never hurries.
It waits, steady as a metronome,
marking time with the breath of dawn,
reminding me: endurance is a kind of prayer.
What is a marathon if not memory
unfolded across distance
the faces that hailed,
the hands that let go,
the griefs I refused to bury?
Still, I run.
Not because triumph is certain
but because the road demands witness.
Even the broke beg a compass.
I anchor my heart to the road,
woven mile after mile.
The finish is not some banner
it is the hour I see
fractures still hold weight.
And so I move,
one breath louder than surrender,
forty-two kilometers of fire
coursing through my veins.
If I falter, let it be forward.
If I fall, let it be on the line
where the road has already
turned me into flame.