Long Rejections Poems
Long Rejections Poems. Below are the most popular long Rejections by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rejections poems by poem length and keyword.
For she's running away from the backlashes
of her past.
Bringing the old into the new...
trying to kill the memories
that soaks the soul in a tainted
mask.
For she's lost in her own infatuation.
Being lead astray by words of deception
yet, she hasn't learned the lesson that
one needs not to prove ones
flaws and imperfections.
Always under the eyes of inspection
Trying to avoid dirty looks, gestures and
long awaited rejections.
For she is a beauty... hidden from what
she doesn't see.
For maybe oneday...she'll awake from the dream
and realize that she's much more than a
poor mans fantasy.
Living out of bags...going room to room
Searching for the security...
she once had and knew.
Going through the dances of the night...
became the role of a broken soul.
For she had no one to console...
yet, bold,cold,and untold stories
began to unfold.
Leaving her with more bruised emotions
and more despair to hold.
For one day she'd awaken to a new day...
excepting forgiveness and praise.
For she was blessed in awakening to
see another day.
Realizing that she was and is worth more.
when she
bowed her head, kneeled down and
prayed.
The End!
I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you
It’s so strange how you don’t have a clue
Maybe it’s a good thing in the long run
You’re the water that shines beneath the sun
Change is a challenging chore
Don’t you want to know more?
You’re begging for it to the core
Waiting for my wings to soar,
But my torn heart is sore
There’s so much to look forward to
I don’t really know if all you say is true
Tell me no shady lies in my face
Bring me back your vast grace
I’m the shore above your tidal tribulation
I’m the anguish and the happiness sensation
Teach me to laugh and sing in joyful bliss
I need some more of your happiness…
To be rid of this inadequate distress
My head is whirling like a windstorm inside
Your dread doesn’t help, so I begin to hide
I’m sorry I hurt you, but have mercy on me
I sent you strength from my own sensibly
I guess you’ve forgotten about me
I’m the forgotten one, I see…I see…
The loneliness is turning the other cheek
As you and I, in silence and despair, speak
Shadows and sad reflections
Show me rage and rejections
Speak to me when I’m ready for your company
Change is what you should welcome in happily
I don’t understand your motives
This angst and anxiety in me lives
Can’t neglect this heart of gold…heart of old…
Can’t shatter this soul of diamond sevenfold
How can you forget me so easily?
I thought I was unforgotten in your memory!
What future is in store for you and I?
A peace that will never come, then we’re left to die?
There’s a bump in the road
And I do need Your abode
Hear the echoes of my ode
Figure out my code and unload my load
God has given me a reason to believe
You have given me a reason to grieve
Might as well walk out that door and leave
Or hang on tight to my sweater sleeve…
I’m moving on from your shadows of oblivion
No longer are you the water beneath the glow
I’m fatigued, can’t peel you away like an onion
There’s so many thoughts in mind you don’t know
Awkward pauses are like a commotion to the brain
Speechless because you’re selfish and pretty insane
I hear more than one bird overhead
I also hear of your yesterday's dread
The Departing of The Heart
Salutations for the sound of mind and poverty of heart
Reparations that don’t come through in time to rectify the start
Commiserations for the ones who find it hardest to eventually part
Palpitations of another heart that cannot perceive the concept that it must depart
Military consequences that send the young men out to war
Conciliatory influences of the leaders who target hiring of the poor
Crematory inferences necessary as they knock on heavens door
An Adversary without recompense that helps me get up off the floor
Kindness for the people that are on daily parade
Blindness from the steeple as we play Holy charades
They Find less sympathy for the feeble as they huddle close and afraid
Passing through the eye of a needle as the ferryman gets paid
Interjections from the galley as the defendant begins to cry
Objections in a midnight alley as the amendment causes him to deny
Rejections of the black sheep in a family as without her flock she’ll surely die
Comprehensions of the urgency that communicate in sighs
The End by Elizabeth Moroz
JUST A Salesman?!
By Gordon G. Gisser
Oh, really?! Just a Salesman?
I read manuals, trade journals and specifications
Go to meetings and training classes
Continuously working on my education
I study my craft to improve myself daily
I race to appointments to get there on time barely
Only to be asked to wait
Heaven forbid I get there late!
I stretch myself to life's limitations
Applying my knowledge in the sea of expectations
I listen and empathize to all the objections Blowing off all the rejections
Like sailing through fog and pollution
I'm always looking for the simple solution
To meet your needs, I have only you in mind I've forgotten my issues... I try to be kind In showing you why... it's all intertwined!
Then you realize I've got what you need Thanks to my patience, knowledge and desire to succeed
You like what I have, but think it's too much Do you think you're not worthy of such? Again we look at value, discuss R.O.I. I'm a parent, teacher, accountant, and shrink I'm a regular guy.
Am I Just a Salesman?! Pushy, boring, selfish? I think not! I could share a lifetime of stories with you on the spot! I sacrifice my time and fun things to do I do this for me, my family, my company and for you!
So, who are you to say "Just a Salesman" anyway? JUST A SALESMAN?! Yeah... Sure... OK... Right. So, what are you? Do you have a clue?!
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-Duplication or copying without express written permission is strictly prohibited
Other Things
There are times when I need a distraction
from days, heavy, when there is no satisfaction.
Yet these days, to climb above, seem so high
and with every step, time just seems to slip by
leaving so very little –hardly a trace
of what once existed in that place,
one’s secret, sacred room – memory’s hoard
where all of one’s experiences are stored.
Sometimes offered up in times of reminiscing
of what once was, but now seems to be missing
in a life that now only offers up reflections
of times of love, of joys and of rejections.
One try’s, and offers up their very best,
for others, only having been their guest.
Life’s journeys ?, life’s adventures ?, a quest
to become as one, to be whole
but in the end !, never to know
what lies beneath, never to show
where it is ?, that we surly will go.
B. J. “A” 2
May 16th, 2013
Am dark and obvious
I take love to every place I go
I have the blood of my ancestors
Their ways still flow in my system
I never intended no violence
I love peace
I don't need no isolation
Am an individualist
I don't judge else it necessary
So please when you see me
Around your neighborhood
Don't judge me
For who I am
Cos yes I surly know that
Am dark and obvious
Am dark and obvious
I live for peace
And I go with love
I have been travelling
Around the world outside Africa
I have see too many
Reaction about my personality
The looks the words the doubts
The interaction the miscommunication
The hatred the care the isolation
The question the attitudes
The help the disappointment
The rejections the acceptance
The smiles the stabs
The racism the love
The truth the lies
All because of who I am
Of curse yes
Am dark and obvious
Am dark and obvious
The earth is my planet
I am a child of the universe
Am not different from every
Human beings
Am not a problem cos of complexity
Am not a war cos am dark
Am not a thief cos am an African
Am a universal product
I was not here on earth by accident
So I don't need no tag to my identity
I don't need no problems
So when ever you see my kind
Out there in your street
Be nice be good
Cos am not different
from you only because
Am dark and obvious
Am dark and obvious
Dedication to all of my kinds
Be proud of who you are
No matter what
Be strong never give in
Alot have died cos
They are dark and obvious
Alot of us have been misinterpreted
Wrongly just because
We are dark and obvious
I say to you all Africans
Be proud of who you are
You are lucky to be different
The prove is why
We are dark and obvious
Remember take love with you
Everywere you go
Show the world the light
In our dark skin colours
Prove to no one but yourself
Who you are
They will see you at last
I am proud of who I be
The blood of my ancestors
Still flow in my veins
It is so clear
No wonder why till now
Am dark and obvious
May it not be uttered and may my lips be sealed. I don't like how it makes me feel. It gives no thrill. It has no appeal. So often, it does not heal and seldom closes the deal. Early this morning, I took the time to record a few lines of muse about a word I don't like to use.
I have often thought about the people I have met and the places I have roamed and made my home over the last 50 years. Many are the things, people, and places that have proven to be most disappointing and have wearied, worn me out, and caused me doubts. There've Been dejections, rejections, and questions, but as I look back, I see no regrets.
I have used a 7-letter word so often that it has become a dreadful thing to consider its usefulness. I should think that heaven is the only place such a word is forever forbidden. Presently, that word is NOT WHAT I'M SAYING to you, you, or anyone else and hope to never find it necessary. But if by chance or providence it should be used relative to anyon9 Ie, it would be among the hardest words I ever uttered to living mortals. I've been as far east as the Big Apple but not to stay; and forty years ago, I came with my wife and kids to live in the City by the Bay. I hasten to say that I've never lived longer nor loved stronger than here in the River City where I only want to say the the 2 lettered word 'Hi' but never the 7 lettered
woord, "Goodbye". I can say "Hi" with a smile, but "Goodbye" only makes me cry.
People say that home is where your story begins, but I've never been one to be bound by what others might say. I only know that the place where I was born was never home to me. I tell you, I did not have to look long and far nor think Hard and deep to figure out whom I might blame for the calm, peace, and poise that I am feeling where I live today. Yes, there is something very special about the people and this place where I'm living today that feels like home to me, and I suspect that The Lord has everything to do with it.
042620PS
Speaking of me, glancing at my presence with eyes wide opened
The spark in your eyes
Do you remember?
That you wondered how you remembered me with my curses, rejections and pain
That you couldn’t await ending this misery of life with no meaning
Do you remember?
That I have said a lot all at once with no movement to my lips?
Do you remember?
That I reminded you of the things I said without a constant reminder of who you were
Do you remember?
That the knife you held with its sharp blades could not make me bleed?
Do you remember?
That my dreams died with the blade without blood making me lose my conscious to the mercy of your hands
Do you remember?
How I screamed for mercy and lost hope for rescue while unable to breath
I shouted “help”
Do you remember?
I screamed so loud for mercy to the hand that took my life
Do you remember?
That my shadow arose from penitentiary to haunt your spirit
Poet
Masego Nkuna
A Different Kind of Courage
Sam took to the stage, limping with a leg brace
And more than a mere trace of fear on his face
The humorous speech competition was on
He’d made it to finals, prior contests he’d won
Sam’s lifelong bout with muscular dystrophy
Generated sadness and much empathy
He shook and stammered as he started to speak
Competitors thought his composure he’d breach
“Stage fright is shared by many,” the boy explained
And as he began, his eye contact seemed strained
We wanted to rush to his side, offer aid
Little did we know Sam’s point was being made
He’d soon have us laughing at the “crutches” WE use
To gain courage when stage fright ensues
“I’m picturing you all naked,” he laughed, smiled
Soon his sharp wit had us rolling in the aisle
His strength and confidence built fast as he spoke
Sam finished up with a memorable poke:
“You thought I would fail; I read it in your eyes
Seeing only my handicap, I realize.
Those who can’t see beyond disabilities
Are mired in self fear; YOU have MY sympathy.”
Out of four thousand entrants, Sam took first place
Impressing us all with his wisdom and grace
Today Sam coaches a college debate team
Having mastered the art of building esteem
September 8, 2020
I chose this poem because I wrote a poem “Courage” on January 10, 2020, one of the poems in my published book “That Thing Called Life”. I penned the six kinds of courage in my poem; physical, social, spiritual, intellectual, moral, and emotional. I had described and gave examples on each of them.
Carolyn titled her poem “A Different Kind of Courage” that Sam displayed. I agree with Carolyn that Sam showed a different kind of courage. He also displayed four kinds of courage: social, spiritual, moral and emotional. He showed he could face criticisms, rejections, oppositions (social); let go (spiritual); showed his own values (moral) and he discerned and told the truth (emotional).
Carolyn ended her poem “Having mastered the art of building esteem” and I ended my poem “It (Courage) gives us power and inner strength”.
8/22/21 Celebrating Carolyn's Poetry:
An Uncontested Poetry
Andrea Dietrich
For all intents and purposes, when speaking of bearing crosses, we think of the literal cross of Christ with a proverbial reference to suffering.
Having so said, life gifts us with crosses whether or not we deserved or warranted them. We may build defenses, immunities, and tolerances, but none of such will completely void the crosses we face.
Illnesses, diseases, handicaps, losses, rejections, birth defects. We bear our crosses in different ways. Some of us are strong and by God's Grace are able to bear under and carry the load. There are those who refuse to fight when they fall and lie in defeat.
Bearing under does not meant we always smile saying, 'Praise the Lord'. Some become 'losers before they even fall, because they have no faith for their crosses. A story is told of a heavy weight champion fighter who was knocked down more than any other fighter in history. He was able to be a champion because 'he always got up'.
110321PSCtest, This Or That, Vol 8, Edward Ibeh Title chosen: 'A Cross To Bear'