Long Sociallife Poems

Long Sociallife Poems. Below are the most popular long Sociallife by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sociallife poems by poem length and keyword.


The Downward Spiral

On the edge,
Leaning towards the deep end;
The dark waters with their mystery...
Seem to beckon you and your misery,
Talking like its cold embrace will warm you,
It's asking for your life and to guide you.

Leaning forward into the abyss
The wind whipping past your ears seem to hiss
As you fly and you soar
For time that makes you wish you had more
Though the feeling cannot last,
If you keep thinking of what people said in the past.

The water boils from your unleashed rage
Only stirring the whirlwind of pain and hate
You claw at the blackness surrounding you.
This tormenting fury you cannot bear
You wish to scream in your anger, 
Yet your voice seems to just whimper
Drowned without air...
Then, you are over come with despair.

The lack of life in this moment makes you weep,
All you want to do is sleep,
But then you think.
What about the ones I will make weep?
Maybe it's not all that it seems,
Maybe someone is waiting just for me?
To wake them from their dreams
The nightmare that they cannot break free 
The one they are waiting in just for me?

You want it all to stop
You really want to quit
But you know there's person waiting for a hero
And this hero is you.

You must get out.
Out of this dream
To wake the one beckoning for you.

Say sorry to the black water
Flail in its grip,
Try to escape its unholy embrace.

Your breath escapes from your lungs
And your mind screams in pain.
But then the darkness evaporates.
Leaving you to start anew 
Like a phoenix rising from its own dark ashes.

Look at the world that you thought you knew.
Awake and breathe.
Arise from your room
With A new view on life.

Look in the mirror,
See what you want to be,
The glass then shatters
Setting you free.

Change the world, 
And all that it has hurt.
Do not let the one waiting for you down
Find him or her and turn their life around.

You won't let this world drown 
You won't let others follow their spiral to the ground
Because you've already been to the bottom
You know what it's like to hit the ground,
Then lose all you have had...
But now it's your chance to turn it all around
Carry them up that spiral with not a look down!
Help them rebuild their world again
And stay with them until the end
Now no one will fear the spiral again
Because they will always have a friend.


Death of a Dream

Death of a Dream
      by Amy Swanson


Time
   existence
       goes by
          *long drawn out sigh*

gray transforming

overbearing
    the happy
         once joyful
            exuberant bright cheerful eclectic

becoming shadows
misty vapor
                  rising to the sky
                  fleeting...
                              gone.

Days gone by
     weeks
        and
          months
            and
               years

                          motions of life
                          crowd out
                          emotions of life  


                                         This unrecognized yet all too familiar place...

                                                    This is where dreams are born.
                                                    This is where dreams die.

Spark of light
    soft golden
struggles against 
    darkened mire

hope's ashes
      faith's grief
           love's despondence

Marigold hue
        charred
              sphere of night envelopes

Streaks and smudges
          of pride
              vanity
              selfishness
              cruelty
                      deface life's canvas
                         once glowing brilliant
                             -- now torn and tainted.


                                          This unrecognized yet all too familiar place...

                                                    This is where dreams are born.
                                                    This is where dreams die.
Silence...
    utter chaos...
         sheer madness
              consuming life -

they don't know.

They don't care.

They go about
     *busily*
          trading dreams
              spiritual riches
                for material fantasies
                     built with air.

Colorless
    consumes the bright

one small spark
        daring dream
              chasing burgeoning shadows

until exhausted
           extinguished...
                       no more.


                                            This unrecognized yet all too familiar place...

                                                    This is where dreams are born.
                                                    This is where dreams die.

10 Pieces of Silver: a Treasure Restored Or Stella Had a House Party

alienated and separated has become society
disenfranchised and distant are now the state of families
all of those systems designed to make us feel connected
have fallen short and now we feel rejected
we're just a bunch of numbers and no one even knows our names
we're just a group of digits and that's a darn shame
but we're more than pieces of silver for we do have hearts
for we are the blessed children of the Lord Of Lords, Our God
and it's only in the church where we've kept our sanity
for out in the world it's just total anarchy
we're more than just objects to be used and misused
we're more than just bodies who by our bosses are being abused

dehumanized and desensitized is how we've been treated by the status quo
but we are treasures in the eyes of the God we all love and know
God loves us and it's time we loved ourselves
Jesus loves us and died to give us an eternal wealth
yet people are more concerned with amassing monetary hordes
no compassion for each other and no love for the Lord
we need to seek the word of God with a desire to be changed
for now is the time for our spirits to be rearranged

no longer to take each other for granted but to treat each other with respect
to see ourselves as more than pieces of silver as more than just objects
to be like that woman who lost her coin and diligently searched until it was traced
and then to rejoice upon finding it for her treasure was now fully replaced
to diligently seek the treasure that is the word of God
and then to apply it directly to our hearts
to comprehend the true value of our fellow sisters and brothers
and come to understand that we need to treasure one another
for at some point in life you will need someone's support
for life is like a basketball game you need a team on the court

10 pieces of silver, Stella had a house party
a single coin restored, a parable about rediscovery
for whatever it is in life that you feel that you have lost
just take it to Jesus and lay it on the cross
let Jesus restore it, let your treasure be refound
let God reform you and place you on higher ground
to look high and look low for that which has been misplaced
to seek that treasure of the spirit, God's saving grace
and once it's restored to rejoice and celebrate
Stella had a house party upon the restoration of her faith
Form: Narrative

Oh Really

And if you read; you’d see God is not there; so you say;
This has a distinct smell of an opinion construed out of convenience
We are; are we not regulated by feel, touch, smell, sight and hearing?
Is it not a commonality that we as humans must always have the answer?
And please assure me that this life is little more than a fleeting dream.

And the philosopher chose to ingest poison rather than recount;
And the astronomer chastised and exiled for daring to conclude the earth was indeed not flat.
And tell me truly do you spout these ideas because of a higher understanding of words;
Is it your supposed above average education that affords you these predictions;
And where please tell me; where the certainties in this life really are;

Was I ever really alive and how I ask does one know these answers?
No one really knows what this life is all about;
And those that think they do; are the ones who should have doubt
And sometimes I wonder what they are going to do;
 When there cozy drams are shattered and reality shows through.

Well I have read and done so with a certain degree of extended ability;
If there is no God; please help us all I say.
The air I breathe, the earth that feeds me; -- polluted.
There is only but to hope; and God as a concept seems best equipped;
To deal with this hopeless situation educated man has brought about

Where will we end up if man is not answerable to some higher power?
If I dare to conclude I know all I no longer learn;
If I no longer learn surely I’m no longer alive;
If I’m no longer alive than I am dead;
And you-- are you really there; and are you really alive-- or are you just dreaming?

Dark Promises

Eyes dark and lifeless, suck all colour from your soul
Drawing you in like a spider down a hole
All thoughts have turned to blind, raw fear 
You're powerless, paralysed, white noise fills your ears
Can't talk, can't scream, can't run, can't breathe
Butterflies drop like sycamore seeds
Flowers wilt, leaves brown and shrivel
I continue to consume you with a minimum of struggle

Roll out the red carpet, gold rings n diamonds
Bring forth your children, your morals, your hymens
What use have you now for all of these things
When immeasurable power for the hungry I bring
Can't not, can't stop, can't help, can't leave
Another life passes with no-one to grieve 
Eyes fade as skin decays 
The face is forgotten in a matter of days

Too scared now to walk out your door after dark
I'm a hood wearing kid with a knife in the park
I'm black, I'm brown, I'm yellow, I'm green
I'm a plane crashing terrorist
Mass murdering Phycologist
I'm a kiddy fiddling priest
I'm a liar
I'm a cheat

I promised you everything in glossy magazines
I promised you wonder bra silicone dreams
Like spend your way out of debt
Dolphins won't get caught in this net
It's just a hot decade, the climates not changing
Follow the soap star who's been misbehaving 
Texting in daily to register your vote
Do you really give a #@&% who gets kicked off the show

You sacrificed life willingly for trinkets and beads
One ray of sunshine for a garden full of weeds
You love me, you worship me
Believe everything I say
Find the golden needle in the big stack of hay
I'm a virus
I'm a fake
I'm a radio active lake
I'm a magic bean
I'm a fiend
Form: Rhyme


My Opinion

Threw my eyes i see things that are being done around me.
I hear things that are being said. 
Do i really see?
Do i really hear?

Life is so many things to so many people. 
No one person can tell another about life.
What is life?

The things you do, the things you say are the stepping 
stones of how your life is developing.
Life is a cycle. It can end at any moment.
God gives you life and he can take it away.

We start this life knowing but not knowing.
Our teachers, our pears,our friends,our family, our world. 
They teach us. What does this world and all these people
teach us.
They teach us:
                        LOVE,
                        CAREING,
                        HATE,
                        PAIN,
                        DECEPTION,
                        AND MORE..........

To a certain degree we can control partially these things we
 choose to build our life on.

We choose to HATE someone or something.
We choose to LOVE some one or something.
We choose to be DECEPTIVE against another.
We choose to CARE for someone or something.
We choose to let someone or something cause us pain.
We choose to inflict pain upon someone else.
We choose these things to do at some point in our lives because 
we are weak.
We cant control our lives alone.
We need help.

At some point in our life no matter wather you are rich or poor.
We can admit for just a moment that we are lost and need guidence.
From who????
Every one has there own beliefs.
Mine is GOD.
Form:

Give Your Life

27 November 07 8:15 am

Why do people love violence and evil?  
Why is revenge considered sweet?  
A child unknowing and innocent is laid at the saviors feet. 
 
Its little body abused and beaten its little bones 
are broken packed in a box and in a dumpster thrown 
its little life gone its body left cold 
Its name forgotten and its story left untold. 

The man that fell beside the road dead from alcohol abuse.  
Lost every thing he had and everything there was to loose
 as people either ignored him there or pointed at him and laughed
His life disappearing as quickly on they passed.

 A young mother who’s left with her child and the dad is nowhere about
 and shamed parents who selfishly threw them out.  
Cost of living growing higher and her with no skills 
turns to the streets for work so her pimp can get his pills. 

A family torn apart 
by mistakes and broken hearts, 
cries out to our heavenly father 
As lawyers push them ever harder

Mourn oh hearts ache and cry 
but don’t ever again question why, 
when you yourself can help someone in any little way. 
With just a little of your time or a little of your pay.

 Share what you have, use the grace you’ve been given
 only you can give the life you’ve been given.

Those that love their life shall lose it and those that give their life shall gain it.

Life on Purpose Live it before you lose it! ©2009
Form:

Play Station

Play Station

It’s not entertainment
But a relief from boredom
Purchased with the mesmerized hours of a working life

And save for love and friendship
To highlight the continuum 
There would remain nothing to relieve the endless waltz of boredom

So desperate and insatiable
This need for new experience
The human passion continually outstrips
The worldly measure we are given

Though capable of dreaming
Imagining almost anything
Still we are tied to realities realization
Limited in it’s dominion
These dreams we have will never be

And as we slip from the pinnacle of our potential
Having merely glimpsed
The vistas of possibilities
Returning to the level where wonder and inspiration
Are a repeated indoctrination of acceptance

This is not how life could be
This is how life will be

Trendy little idiom
Wrapped in facile fashion
A cult to thieve away any individualism

Dressed in plagiarized opinion
A walking talking vacuum
The bleating sheep of humanity
Searching for relief from its obligatory boredom

And the intricate little details of fast cars and even faster wars
Are lost in the political greed and national gluttony
For the higher paid heroes and newer roll models

Reflecting in this dilatory need for belief in the latest craze
We are nothing more than a play station
Buy another game and press

X

Being Different

Every day and night all I can
hear are strangers cursing,
cracking jokes, and laughing
at my distorted image.
Words become weaponry,
life never seems to be rid
of discrimation and abuse
that is polluting the very air
I breathe.
Children stare, some even cry
from the sudden fear that grows 
when they see my distorted face.
Misunderstanding is thriving,
like a disease with no known cure.
Children I can endure, they
do not get under my skin like a
leech sucking life out of me.
Adults differ, they know the buttons
to press to cause hurt and unseen
agony; they seem to enjoy it.
I continue to smile, trying to mask my 
true feelings but within my mind a voice
speaks, always negative, always flashing
terrible memories of my childhood assaults.
I am different, I know, but life seems to
view me in a different light.
Memories I bare create scars within
my lonely soul,
it desperately tries to fit in a world
of fragmented images of 
what is considered beauty.
Normality does not come to those
who view the world in a light of 
fixed images for life itself is always
different, always changing,
then yet I am viewed as an alien,
unwanted, feared, almost hated.
Still, I keep on living, regardless of
how many times sticks and stones
are thrown onto my path.
Being different? 
Who actually cares?
Seems like everyone but life
itself evolves and so shall I.

Ode Underwater

I've got this listing, sinking feeling
that I owed most of my life to my bank.
Hands in the air, reaching for debt ceiling,
yet another fine mess, with no one to thank.

Guns all put down, the pen reigns mightier
can't fight the bank, let alone hit myself.
Contracts contracted, assurances flightier
seems the whole world's overextended itself.

I ode some words, I owed some dollars
'course everyone I talk to is in the same boat.
Can't answer my phone for collecting callers,
looking to ourselves, line of credit, to float.

I'm maxed they've determined, but I'm appealing
my mortgage, in arrears, beyond my credit score.
All my creditors say that defaulting is stealing
I gave a stone and blood, still they want more.

Seems to everyone, I owe myself, that's no joke
shouldn't be depressed, but maybe I oughter.
Dunno if I'm myself, or like all nations folk,
I've underwritten much of this ode underwater.

'course if I owe some B and B owes to C 
and C owes somebody else...well back to me,
then it seems that we all owe to each other,
our mountain of debt is brother to brother.

Would some rebalancing of our balance sheets
starve our children, kick us out into streets?
Maybe we should waive our bankruptcy hearing
and admit it's to life we're really endearing.

© Goode Guy 2011-06-10
© Goode Guy  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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