Long Saddness Poems
Long Saddness Poems. Below are the most popular long Saddness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Saddness poems by poem length and keyword.
my saddest christmas ever
has'nt came to be
but in a very few days
it will happen to me
the presents i thought of
will never be bought
the gifts and decorations
have all come to naught
the love i wished to happen
won't happen this christmas day
because the one i loved the most
has sadly passed away
so i have yet to greive
on that wonderful occasion
no one will love me
with such dedication
my heart has need to give
that special kind of love
but with no one to give it to
my heart it seems stopped up
i can only imagin
the fun we would have shared
exchanging our silly presents
showing how much we cared
going out shopping
will be a lonely task
there won't be anyone there
for me to share romance
but still i'll spend this christmas
with her on my mind
i wish she were here
we would have had a good time
so this will surely be
my saddest christmas ever
will my saddness ever leave
my heart keeps saying never
When we first met you carried him in your pocket,
Strange ugly little thing, tied to a string.
I thought it odd that you would carry such a pet,
Yet who was I to say what you could do?
Later he grew larger and you put him in a box,
He'd make funny noises while we cuddled neath the moon,
Neatly hidden as our love progressed,
Who was I to say what you could do?
We married and you tied him in the yard,
In the back away from public view.
He bellowed like the Devil in the night
Yet who was I to say what you could do?
Sometimes when you fed him, you'd come in,
With bloody feet and torn clothes.
I salved and bandaged all your wounds,
For who was I to say what you could do?
You spend all your time now in the yard,
Alone I watch you out the window and I pray.
While He gnaws at your body and your soul,
Yet who was I to say what you could do?
Now I can hear you crying in the yard,
I see him as he starts to eat you whole.
Oh why would you want him as a pet?
But who was I to say what you could do?
I Received Bad News Today, Reckoning
I received bad news today,
Rather, the bad news I sought.
Thirty years ago, we played.
Attention turned; you walked away.
Divorce ended, so I thought.
Love was stretched thin to forgive.
You tried to ease me from my pain.
As friends we could never live.
Let’s start new and not relive.
Better move on and try again.
I received bad news today,
Rather, the bad news I sought.
I hoped you’ld be on your way.
But now I am sad to say,
Your ambitions have all rot.
The news is not well received,
Deep saddness from what I heard.
How will your children grieve;
How will your parents grieve;
The verdict is made and served.
Let’s pray for our reckoning,
Before passing we are blessed
Summoned to God’s beckoning,
Humbled before our passing,
And receive our freedom as promised.
I received bad news today,
Or maybe it’s not so bad,
For the love in what we pray,
Might be answered someday,
for blessings we never had.
Go in peace,
Love and forgive.
Pray for His Mercy.
By faith in him so live.
John 3:16-21
Note: The greatest thing I ever heard came from the lips of an incarcerated felon accepting Jesus Christ who said: “I thank God for prison because now I am truly free.”
by,
Martin Braun
In the middle of this Endless Night
I wake up to wonder, "am I still Alive?"
Even though I got better, Im so Dead inside
Overnight they count 5 more
Of my Dear friends that Died
As I struggle to find peace
Turning in place, never finding sleep
I make sure that you're still breathing
And I can't help but weep
I'm not sure how much more I can take
My heart is so broken, tears roll down my face
Some say the universe is "balancing out"
I feel no balance in this saddness,
I want to grab them and shout, "Life is not fair, Bring back my Friends!"
They still had so much more to offer this world
This is not how they deserved it to End
They all perish at once at the end of a Season
All because the Selfish would not listen to Reason
They once had a chance to get better, to go Home, to say Goodbye
They worked so tirelessly, Only to Die?
Struggling to breath, unable to speak to those they Love
The only One who knows why
Is God above
I DON"T KNOW WHY I STILL LOVE YOU
WHY I LET MYSELF BECOME ANGRY OVER YOU
I WANT TO BE AWAY FROM YOU
AWAY FROM YOUR SADDNESS AND HATRED
THE LOVE I FEEL FOR YOU
IS A MYSTERY OF LOVE STOKES
THAT POUNDS MY HEART TO HURT
TO SHATTERD INTO CLUTTERD TEARS
SOMEWHERE IN MY MIND DEEP
I HATE YOU
THE PRESENCE OF YOU
KNOWING THAT YOU STILL IN MY LIFE SOMEWHERE
THE MORE I TRY TO ABSENCE YOU
THE FARTHER YOU MAKE YOURSELF
KNOWING TO ME
I FEEL ALL THIS RESENTFUL FOR YOU
A HOLE IN MY HEART
STILL CARES FOR YOU
BUT THE LOVE VANISHED
DEEP DOWN IN YOUR HEART
AND MINES
WE BOTH FEEL ANGST
TOWARDS ONE ANOTHER
FOR A REASON
I didnt know I needed you.
Or that this feeling existed.
I didn’t know I was only part of a person,
Do you feel it, too?
Your heart looks like heaven,
I think.
But, theres something about you,
Isn't there?
I’m pushing at an invisible door,
My bleeding lungs pleading
To let me breathe you in completely
Connect your freckles with my kisses
My fingertips trace sweet words across your perfect body..
But, you’re forever just out of my reach.
A wall built of perpetual anxiety prevents making us complete.
I cry out your name and the taste of copper fills my mouth.
And I cant help but wonder “will i just get lost in the crowd?”
“Did it matter? Was it real?
These questions they haunt me,
the villian screaming in my ear at 2AM Continues to taunt me
He pounds his fist repeatedly into my temple to remind me im not loved.
How dare I rest, he’ll hiss.
I just nod, and submit.
its very hard to say who i love the most
i love all poets from coast to coast
dickenson, poe, frost, shakespere
an endless line of poets i fear
but when it comes to real poetry
and some not all may agree
there is none better than sorrow or greif
to bring to life ones poetry
they awaken a ghost living inside me
holding my attention ever so silently
they share our spaces with a sombre pride
tell their stories with tears in eyes
they aim there words at broken hearts
and with a tired line they start
others unpoetic they wail
but all from abuse and death they hail
they bring the words that stir our equlibrium
make us cry when our spirits meet with them
laughter and happiness they have their place
but saddness and toil you cannot erase
i'll screem my sorrows as high
as the listening skyes
rage with anger as if my soul died
and with my words dampen every eye
inspire, unite, defy, denigh and teach
make it seem as though i preach
make them look up to the stars
and think about there own scars
(I would have won that contest.)
Have you seen how nights are?
Sometimes glowy but sometimes dull and dark
Doesn’t always show us the stars
Because she preferred self sabotage
Scars of being replaced by the morning
Scars of not shining as bright as she could
Scars of not being appreciated for trying
Scars that couldn’t be comforted by the moon
For he had his own phase
And I, dreamt of a place
Where mornings didn’t exist
But here trees couldn’t spread their radiance
Butterflies didn’t show their grace
And colours couldn’t reflect light
How sad would be the man
Who hoped for the sun to rise
Night learnt how she isn’t meant to be perfect
For the man now wanted twilight’s disguise
Have you seen how nights are?
Doesn’t always show us the stars
For she was healing her scars
And this time it looked like a kintsugi art
The Hate Machine
The tail of a bird the bone of a man;
Warm red Blood upon the sand.
A hooded figure, a Nazi Cross.
Was there ever a man who could count the cost.
Of the Hate Machine.
A starving refugee, a child in pain.
A soldier dead in the driving rain.
Man is a very mischievous elf.
He fooled around and built himself.
A Hate Machine.
Hate for your brother and hate for his creed,
Cut him and beat him and make him bleed.
Condemn him to Hell for the shade of his skin.
Forget about reason be slave to the whim.
Of the Hate Machine.
Sour old ladies on shiny oak pews.
Preachers and deacons withholding the news.
Together with children of innocent years.
They make up the screws and make up the gears.
Of the Hate Machine.
Hate the Republican, hate the Jew.
Maybe even the Democrat too.
Hate the President, the ignorant clod.
Hate your Mother and Hate your God.
That's our Machine.
A Marxist student, a burning flag.
A Coptic Christian, beaten and gagged.
Quiet citizens caught in the stream.
Together make up the Hate Machine.
It's Mankind's Child.
The tail of a bird, the bone of a man.
Warm red blood upon the sand.
Fighting and killing where will it end.
Why must we fools always depend.
On the Hate Machine.
Maybe your February smells the same as my October
Or maybe something tastes the same
Perhaps the beat of our song sounds the same
As your laugh
And the bass tempo is different
And the drum beat is slightly off
I don’t know if I can tell the difference
Between a good change
And a bad change
Maybe you just make me want to experience both
And my jaw hurts
While you become the roman road
To my Egyptian pyramid
And the smell of rain on hot pavement
Sends my senses into overdrive
It lingers
While my memories of February slowly fade
Like steam on the bathroom mirror
While I spit blood into the sink
They dissipate