Long Sadworld Poems
Long Sadworld Poems. Below are the most popular long Sadworld by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sadworld poems by poem length and keyword.
Why tell people in advance?
Do you want them to feel guilt?
For not loving you, listening to you?
Why hurt them? Revenge?
Yes, the world has hurt you,
It can be cold and mean.
So you do have the power
to make a lot of people feel guilt.
You want to leave the world, hurting people?
So you weren’t loved as a child,
a lot of us weren’t. When you grow up
you learn it is not about others loving us,
it is about the love we give others.
You cant make the world love you,
but you can bring love into the world.
That’s why you have a heart.
Every major religion agrees suicide is bad for the soul
In the west, we call it purgatory,
you sit alone, in a dark place, and feel,
you feel guilt, shame, hurt, and loss.
God isn’t there, the angels aren’t there
It’s more alone than you are now,
feeling 1000 times worst,
and the only thing you can do is feel it,
go into the emotions and purge them
until you are capable of loving again,
giving love to others, that is.
Only, then can you even be near an angel or god.
A soul with no love, cannot even be in God’s presence.
That is why purgatory exists, to purify a soul of its selfishness
Here is your cure,
Go help some people worse off than you.
Look into their eyes, feel their suffering,
share theirs with them, listen to their pain,
radiate love to them, be quiet and listen
As you give to them, you heal.....
Write poems of how you feel,
your life experiences, stop writing suicide stuff...
Take your pain and put it into the art,
go deep, make yourself cry.
If the poem doesn’t hurt you, it’s not deep enough.
Write some on beauty that make you feel it..
Pray for the planet and all the people in pain
Imagine your heart glowing love, healing it all.
Forgive everyone that has hurt you.
Anger will burn a hole in your heart.
Face your fears, go out in the world
heal it, make it a better place
This is your mission here..............
Form:
... Is dead, no more moves to make, is a cold hearted killer and wants more, your child
died sooner, now this fellow and who is next? The man bends down to his victim and with
the saw starts dismembering the body in front of you, your adrenaline rushes quick and
your eyes wide open to how far can it go, legs, arms, head separated from the body, now
the man stands and walks to you, with no mercy draws a knife and stabs you in the stomach,
your world gives a quick flash back in all good moments and the reason why you live on,
your dead child and your soul companion, now you don't want to die without giving up a
fight, so on you struggle with death to not take your soul, bleeding deep the man sits
like a child in front of you, you raise your head to see clearly and another flashback
comes to your mind, the man you spilled the coffee early in the morning, the man who
walked away and didn't accepted your forgiveness, so on you cry with pain, a psychopath is
on your house and murdered your family and you are the target, so you gonna die, the man
stands and picks up the saw, grabs you by the neck with no mercy, choking you on, he raise
you high with demonic strength and with the saw starts cutting you in half but your not
dead yet, you scream silent with mouth covered and pain makes your eyes fade, half way
trough and your not dead yet, the man keeps back and forward and slices you in half, your
last exile for man kinds future, the man walks away, next morning police is there, murder
number 147 in 7 all that goes of year, so your name is on a list of cold cases, 10, 20,
30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, and keeps counting the years been stone cold case, so never you
will hear a word from justice...
Is this the world we live on?
3 a.m. was the best hour
I took a shower
I put on my clothes ready to roll
for night out with a moonlight doll
I jumped in the car
got ready to start
backed up took a slow ride the a place called love
picked her up then went to the spot
dang, i can still remember the very first kiss
..nice days cold nights
we took time to hug to warm up tight
we smiled to each other very much alot
for some reason i don't want to continue this
it was nice while it started
but my head says theres no point
this is just retarded
she gone to a fool who plays
little does she know what game she plays
but i warned her before
she just doesnt remember
she doesn't care
it satisfies her desire
but I even told her about the hearts true secret
of how treacherous is really is
but she thinks im just a crazy kid
but its ok though
she will learn one day hopefully in my book how things really are
I threw her things away
because they have no value
she lied about her promises
but i was a foo and bough it
i regret so many things
maybe i was better off ignoring it
but i couldn't help it
i was still in the feeling drawn from memories..
i gave myself to her and she gave her self to me
it was the most beautiful thing ever
the world fails to see...
and so did she
and maybe she ruined the purity
i promised i wanted to keep
but it doesn't matter now
I knew the world is like that..
as sad as it can be
but what i failed to believe that there will always be somthing that will get in the
way
and thats what seems to prove what is or what isn't ment to be.
Form:
Pull the sun down, watch our world burn.
Would they steal the crown, the destiny we yearn?
I'm running towards death, though we've met before.
One last breath, is held in store.
In this world of violence, who could save the day?
Feel the chilling silence, and decide what to say.
One at a time, heart attacks are revealed.
Is this war a crime, murderers cross the field.
Spill your secrets, as they flow through me.
Count your regrets, for none wish to be.
Hold still the time, yet I'm no longer waiting.
As you read lifes rhyme, do you feel yourself hating?
Solemn words, you foolishly spoke.
Love's absurd, on the thought I choke.
The broken song, plays on my insides.
Do we belong, in this tale of suicides?
I'd give anything to leave, anything to survive.
Yet I cannot believe, I am alive.
Cut out my heart, with our shattered dreams.
This miserable story shall start, when I hear your dying screams.
Climb your way to Heaven, or down the stairs to Hell.
I'll laugh again, as I catch the tears that fell.
The stars shine, as my smile begins to appear.
Now I'll dine, on your morbid tear.
If only for one night, if we weren't together.
I thought I'd fight, and help the ties sever.
I'll cherish this moment, with the ability to create war.
Time to repent, thats to leave you sore.
I'll drown the city, in despair for the past.
You'll feel no pity, for this love shouldn't last.
Now you're screaming, at the top of your lungs.
Should've been redeeming, as the sacred voices sung.
Oh yes, the college girls
come and go
speaking of Ani De Franco.
And yes, I too
measure out my days
with coffee spoons,
a hundred years later
and nothing has changed,
only the numbers of the dead
and the deranged
have increased exponentially
with deadly technology.
Like the Caesars of old
the power brokers of now
stamp out the vestiges
of an older order.
And yes, i sit like an elderly sentry
on the cusp of two centuries
and views of the world expecting
nothing better
than what has come before.
And yes, oh yes, seeing the gullibility
and the tomfoolery
of a world where you can be convinced
with very little effort
that up is down and that
right is left holding the bag repeatedly
and speaking ever more deletedly
to fewer and fewer ears.
What has changed?
What has changed except the names
used to describe the same old games
of a gang of aggressive primates.
Some are cannon fodder
used to divert the lion
and parade and preen
when they are lucky to escape.
Some are keen
to produce more spawn
so that we can do the same
old con again.
Some are at the center
protected and gifted
by a willing populace,
unwilling to risk
their own neck
as long as some one else will.
And some, with rolled up trousers
sit on the edge knowing
what is right
but lacking the will
to say so
and creating for ourselves
the post of sentry
to ease the burden
of a nagging conscience.
Just sitting here
watching the college girls
come and go
speaking of Ani DeFranco.
My heart is made of Porcelain
It is weak
It is breakable
Cracked from the past
It is delicate
Surprising
Something so
Fragile
Could still be
With the weight of the world upon it
It continues to break.
You hold it together a temporary bond
Nothing is permeate
All good things must fade
I will slip from your hands one day
And fall
Unto my fate.
Crack.
Pain has taken its toll on me
This porcelain heart
Hallow
Empty
A vacuum of pain waiting
Waiting to be filled.
Crack.
Only a few more to finish
Should not take long
Somethings don’t change
Why would they
This world filled with hate
Adds more weight upon my shattered heart
Crack.
Miserable
I fall
The tears fill my heart
Only to leak through the cracks
And then..
A new feeling
Not pain
Not sadness
But love
Love filled up my heart
It does not fade nor does it slip through the cracks
I am whole
I am loved.
But how long will it last, this feeling of love?
After all nothing is permeate
Even the brightest star must burn out
Where is my disappointment
Where is my pain
Nothing is familiar anymore
Lost confused
This new emotion makes no sense
This love you give me
Overwhelms me
I am undeserving.
But I am greedy
I only want more of this “Love”
I reach out towards you
So close
I can almost touch you
But this porcelain ground,
It is weak
Cracked
I fall through
My heart is made of porcelain…
And it shatters
Crack.
An old soldier was laid to rest today with the doleful tones of "Taps."
Family and friends mourned, others respectfully doffed their caps,
To honor another World War Two patriot who saw the battle thro',
Suffering untold hardships to preserve freedom for me and you.
Only eighteen when he was drafted in nineteen forty-two,
He proudly donned his nation's uniform, vowing the foe to subdue.
Old photos displayed at his memorial showed a handsome lad,
Destined to fight in battles in a world that had gone mad.
For months he faithfully perfomed his duty in the European Theater,
Crediting his safe return to Mother's daily pleas to The Creator.
Coming home to a hero's welcome with medals upon his breast;
Lauded by many he modestly replied, "I merely did my best."
Sadly, he was largely forgotten by the powers that sent him to war.
Nonetheless, he reared a loving family - their hero they did adore.
Just an ordinary working man, loving his God, family and nation,
Passing on his unwavering values to each ensuing generation.
Alas, not many of these gallant warriors are still around.
Every day too many are laid to rest in hallowed ground.
To those still among us we should express our gratitude.
The sacrifices they made could have been of no greater magnitude!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Midnight drips down from the clouds
the sky, infected by her despair turns to ash,
and the grand Concords of heaven mourn
burning the world with their bitter tears,
tears of acid.
Brine from the breeze sticks silver
in the night
glittering with the sand stuck in it,
and the face of midnight sets 12 eyes
on the faces of the fallen.
Twisted in their misery of disgrace
torment is the deep set lines on their faces,
ageless to times touch
and the acid drips in time with midnight
much to mortal displeasure.
The snowfall turns skin to porcelain
becoming ash in the mouths of the innocent
setting them apart from the world of sinners
Midnight marks them as hers
claiming the purest, leaving the world to suffer their sins.
As night sets his hands in,
the innocent:
turn their wrists skyward
turn the bottle upside down
and line up the pills
just in time for the tolls of midnight to echo into the darkness.
Once, twice and the wrists are sliced
seventh, eighth another drink take
eleventh, twelfth, no more pill bottles on the shelf
no more minutes to midnight
and beating hearts, pure and black, slow.
Midnight gathers her children,
casting them black shadows falling
growing and creating
an image of herself in the light of day
always some part of her in the moon or in the sun
until Midnight calls them to her again.
Nothing new...
In the eye of the storm,
But watch closely...
As the elements swarm;
Final judgment...
In the eyes that hold,
Calling on Death for duty,
As the warning bells toll...
Shrieking through damaged alleys...
Ringing what’s left of living ears,
Further driving home the loss...
Just trying to wait out our childish fears!
Hunkered down, and hiding fast...
From the inevitable that’s peering on,
Souls are wandering from bodies scared stiff;
Although their lives seem far from gone...
The storm has passed,
But what happens next?
A world washed clean...
Or is it God’s iron fist?
None of these questions seem of concern...
In the wake of disaster;
What’s left of the survivors wander mad,
Like zombies in search of their master...
The world’s gone gray,
Well on it’s way to black...
Streets are lined with broken spirits,
As the storm starts breaking back.
The next few moments feel as though forever,
Lined with last minute prayers and horrid screams;
The darkness stretched across the horizon...
Like a fixation armed with nightmarish dreams.
A world pushing down our throats,
Choking the soul from life...
Until we’re all just empty shells,
Free of love, hope, and strife.
Surrounded by devastation...
And the lives left torn;
Does anyone have the remedy...
To calm this illing storm?
Paper latterns light the gardens path.
To a splendid night and a summer bath.
Rose peddles trampled under her feet.
As her form fill's the darkness.
hiding in the shadows trying to catch a peek.
Of the beauthy who gives life with her
kiss.
Magic seems real on a night like this.
On a night like this the world stands still.
when feelings are spent.
And emotions serve there own will.
She tempts the angels and makes the old young.
Climbing the invisable ladder.
Rung by rung.
Green tea she sips while drifting down
a lonley night.
A painters brush draws a tear at her sight.
Golden hair cold blue eyes.
She breaks hearts with sugar coated lies.
Jasmine fills the air.
With love and memories to share.
nothing about her seems real.
She acts unfazed with mass appeal.
Often is her coldness mixed with rejection.
She surrounds herself with walls for
constant protection.
Living in a world of her own making.
Giving visions of passion for the dreamers taking.
No matter her ways still someone she does miss.
As the wind travles through the trees.
She reflects on a night like this.
She fills the emptyness with a secret innovation.
On a broken dream and a promised vacation.
Standing in the shadows soaking up her eternal bliss.
Romance and passion.
Come togather on a night like this.