Long Sissy Poems
Long Sissy Poems. Below are the most popular long Sissy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sissy poems by poem length and keyword.
Early morning that day. We knew we should have said goodbye. But we didn't want to see you cry. We never knew we were going to die. die. Sister and I thought we would be bacback, but there was an accident, the driver was drunk, if empty bottles in the trunk. He came from nowhere, with no idea where he would end, not knowing he'd leave two young girls dead. He just wanted to have a little fun, no harm would be done. Now Sissy and I lay here as our lives pass Us by, we don't even have the strength to cry. We see your face we know you would surely cry. Mommy we're so sorry that we didn't get to say goodbye, and neither did you. We want you to know our love for you was dear. Please always know that we always have loved you so dear. And to all who loved and to all who cared, thank you and goodbye. We can hear the sirens now, but our hearts are filled with fear. It's too late, death Must Be Our Fate. So I guess our lives and here, please don't shed a tear. We love you very much and our hearts you did touch. I just wish that we would have been able to say goodbye.
hey momma hows things still sucks here Eddy and Franky are both dead
Im more scared than ever momma I just signed up to go to school I never wanted to have to kill a man and now Ive killed again and again Im to scared to count them I hate myself but it was them or me gosh momma I just wanna come home were back out in the dark again all night all night in the dark momma you know how much I hate the dark wish I was home to scary here
gotta go bye momma
Im back momma sure do miss you they shot sarge right between the eyes two days ago he never liked me said I was a sissy we finally got a new one hope he keeps us alive think he likes me here you never know who likes you till its to late if they take a bullet for you they liked you if they don't its to late momma its to late tonights our last night out for backup gotta move out bye
to be read in order 1-4
Form:
It all started with a dare...
"Come on, just this one time,
don't be a sissy"
You had to do it,
just to be part of the
"in crowd"
All it took was one time
and I was hooked, trapped,
and I lost control...
It took over my life,
my life was on a downward spiral...
Everything was a mess,
I lost everything I loved,
everything that made sense
was taken away,
with one hit...
All that’s left is me,
wandering the streets,
planning my next hit,
craving my next puff...
I'll even steal to make it happen...
And all it took was one dare…
*ps: not a personal experience but I've seen it happen to people close to me*
Form:
Knock knock yo the devils at the door
I know I look familiar
you ain’t dealt with me before
Knock knock the devils here once more,
I bet you think you’re clever but you're dumber than the door
I'ma relive every little bit of it
I don’t care if it makes me look thick,
not picky cus I’m not you,
a coward slithering through
this an hour of truth you've no power too
do I look familiar someone once similar,
you spineless you slither you leaving?
I'll still story deliver,
that ego of yours still false swollen
I'm going to punch your fake figure open
You gave me my packing papers
I said I’ll get you back later and
The fact you killed the sane in me
is forever entertaining me
the thought you went in vain at me
explain it while the pain runs free,
from me to you,
shut up actually I don't care
You know people? Oldest threat in the book,
send em we’ll see how well they fry up and cook,
you can’t reason with me
trick or deceive
I’ll shout out my side for mental relief,
if they believe,
if they don’t, matter it won’t,
I’m not telling people I’m setting history,
your evil and your misery,
you’re evil, you’re misery
persistently you targeted me,
a sissy a coward retardently
until you dismissed me, was it hard for thee,
was it hard disregarding heartlessly?
time went by and you thought you were free,
random I am,
angles non specific,
I’m urinary tract,
Hello I’m back!!
Did you miss me,
I’m actually different,
thanks to you I’m down and sinister,
payback's significant
full focus now to finish ya,
nah not really that’s immature,
I’m going to make you feel like you
but miniature!!
A very young lad, who just turned thirteen
Began to cry and sob in his bed
Wiping his tears on his sleeve
Why is my dad leaving and why must he go?
Was it a fault of mine
My fault, I don't know
His blonde hair, blue eyed, LI'L sissy
Who was under age four at the time
Didn't understand where her daddy was going
Why he was giving her sugar, & a long hug, leaving his tears all behind
Thinking that her daddy will be back home real soon
After all her daddy was her world, the stars, and the moon
Why did my dad have to go?
Why did her daddy have to leave?
Is this a nightmare that we are both dreaming?
Or was this a new "harsh" reality
Me and sissy came running to mama, and we slept with her that night
She tried to quiet us from crying by telling us everything will be alright
Living the dream, in your teens, not hardly.
If you forever found yourself back in time
but with memories of all that is lost, and
find you cannot even locate your Valentine,
even with your good looks, shipshape body,
your countenance would become crestfallen.
Missing the moments, did you live them at all.
You’d recall son and daughter, grands and all.
Would life still be grand when the moon falls?
The sun rose on the shoulders of her or him.
You’d talk for hours about this and that on whim.
It is the life lived and the hope of heaven to claim.
So even when your loved one dies, they exist.
But, if you find time has reversed, while you rehearse
your memories, with tears no one cares about,
‘sissy girl or sissy boy,’ because those teens
can’t relate to your old soul in a unwrinkled body,
because gram and gramps are just old.
Suddenly, your back, excited at your limp,
bags under the eyes, and the grands
run into your arms, or grab the VR, who cares -
your back…your back..oh your back…
Still you do the heavy lifting of the rich at heart,
heartily, tearfully (why are you crying, kid asks),
Living your dream at sixty-something, remembering
everything…well, not everything, but you smile
because you're golden, and what matters is life’s kiss.
The Dancer
At fifteen, he was a dancer with a slim body
and narrow hips, after school he walked to
the dance studio where he was welcome
and danced as long as he could
other boys bullied him and said he was
girlish, but the girls liked him because of him
the felt save
On and on he danced, the press wrote
about this talented boy, but the bullying
didn't stop to prove to them he was not a sissy
he, at eighteen, joined the Ukraine army
who could use a boy like him in a forward
position keeping an eye on the enemy
Bullets fly in the air 98% hit nothing much
but a bullet hits him in the neck
His parents received a medal their boy had
been a hero.
‘Twas close to the day when Buba Claus,
His red nose and Bowie knife shining,
Would be off to fill the manly's hearths,
With bacon for their frying.
The ground was bare of snow or ice,
The sky was clear of reindeer.
But Buba Claus was loading his sleigh,
Real high, with good stout Yule beer?
Buba Claus was out in force,
His NRA cronies in tow,
To fill naughty radicals stockings,
With tiny bits of coal.
Cigars dangled from their lips,
A spittoon he placed by their feet,
And, before the sleigh rose off the ground;
They tossed in another side of beef.
Each carnivore, they laughingly swore;
Would have their fill this year,
And Bambi blanched as He flew by,
While Teddy Bears ran in fear!
Over New Canaan His courses flew,
Past the homes of vegetarians;
And down their chimneys they did toss;
The views of Libertarians!
And when the last haunch was placed,
Upon the spits of the mighty,
His spat his cud of gnarly gum,
Into the spittoon real tidy!
Then he flew off with a Ho, Ho, Ho,
And, not the ones for plowing
Cause Buba Claus had his own ideas
Of all Santa's sissy endowings!
Janice Avery loved deep green nature; like cherry sunset owls, gawping.
She dwelt with her parents and Sissy, when old, golden days were walking.
They lived out in the hilly country, where orangeish stars could be seen;
And summer seemed to last forever, for days held a predominate sheen.
Noons were filled with happiness laughter, that foreshadowed pink moon.
Life was young, but blue world was old. Burgundy butterflies left cocoons!
Mauve fog was doing its fadeaway, as never failing, friends came calling;
When feisty fandango flowers flopped-in scent breezes, sweetly recalling!
Future blooms were dreaming buds, in the spring of faultless, family visits,
Via paths, lined with flowers of familiar hues. Birds sang in willow thickets.
Janice lived in the house of cool shadows, beneath lovely, sheltering oaks;
With colored birds at each window! Back fences, saw many tales and jokes!
Rich, raspberry sun lent sights to remember, on their road of blue flowers.
'Ere reverent night fell richly! Like marmalade change, expected in hours.
Numerous hued clouds were etched nebulously, on dusk skies, blackberry,
When nostalgic neighbors came fondly, as a turquoise moon rose, solitary.
'Midnight valentine' camillas felt Cupid's arrows, under yellow stars of thrall;
And 'Lady Margaret' passionflower vine, in burgundy, crept late to the ball!
'Gay goblin' flowers indulged red revelry, as 'brilliant lilies' rivaled the sun;
When 'sultry scarlet' blooms pined for sunset, like nostalgic noon, undone!
Janice was a birdwatcher, for she loved pretty songbirds' chirps and trills;
But, she wanted to see them up close! So, she put seed on her windowsill.
One day as she was entering the room, she saw a red cardinal, hopping;
And pecking her seed as he hopped. Janice ran, but he was not stopping!
Yet, Janice had gotten a good glimpse of red, like sunset skies, before dark;
With a shake he'd flown into azure sky, destnation garden, or green park.
Janice realized moments are precious, and the briefest, might be golden;
And those are the ones most likely to revisit, once twinkling time is olden!
'Once I saw a little bird
Go hop, hop, hop,
So I said: – little bird,
Will you stop, stop, stop?
Then I was going to the window
To say "How do you do?"
But he shook his little tail,
And away he flew!'
Destroyer vs' Gareth # 2
Gareth oh Gareth.
How have you been?
I took a look at your last hit
We both know your not gonna win
Although you are good, I admit
You have the honor to remove my gloves.
They no longer fit
After popping your zit of a poem
This is not war, not a slam
I'm just having fun knocking your wits
Like an ANVIL drop from above
I'll squash you Like a little bug.
Your words don't hurt not one bit
Running to mommy for a hug!
As you know, if the shoe doesn't fit
Why do you still wear them?
About my pants.
I want them back.
I have to give them to my aunt.
Who likes sticking her nose in your crack
I am sorry about Mother Nature
You both share the same bed
We must have the same culture
I agree her beauty is like sweet cinnamon bread.
I fly over you like a vulture
Waiting for you to drop dead
Do you get the picture?
Theirs no stop, till you crown my head.
Your slams have been fractured
Your true colors revealed as an amateur
Due to the loss of memory in this poet game
Now we both know who's the impostor
Gareth I just tossed you in the flames
At this time were acting immature
You're like the friend I never found.
This has been a great pleasure
I'm not done putting the smack down
It is almost time for my departure
Here's my hand, get up from the ground.
Finish your pedicure
You're still on the rebound.
Your poems now sit with a foreclosure sign
Do to sissy punches on every round
To: G.J.
From: P.D
(-: fun :-)
Okay, Gareth are you up for round three.