Long Sociopath Poems
Long Sociopath Poems. Below are the most popular long Sociopath by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sociopath poems by poem length and keyword.
Some insane person is planning a conspiracy
against us to weaken our bond of friendship,
and this malicious person is attacking us
with vulgar and unsound comments,
which aren't as ironic as he thinks;
let us all give the delirious bully
a strong dose of our reality...
by declaring his insanity!
Police must track this maniac down,
put him behind bars for his vulgarity
and death threats meant for this community;
freedom of speech is deliberately being abused
with constant obscenities lashed at us
by this undesired member full of hostility...
a misanthrope speaks obscenity
to express his unexplainable hatred and envy;
and the wider attention he gets, the sooner he's gratified!
Devoted poets, continue writing your beautiful verses,
and ignore his wasted energy on deliberate foolishness;
the real satisfaction doesn't come from a vindictive attitude,
but by letting justice make him feel the harshness of its law!
Look at the bright side...he will be caught and and charged accordingly;
and do not attempt to pity him when is convicted of his crime...
we have warned him many times, but he wouldn't heed or comply;
And who needs a sociopath, who disturbs the peace and disrupts creativity?
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Prayed & prayed
Years of misery
Each day of agony
Yearning for a woman
Come into my world
Ask God to send me a
Angel,
Wholesome submissive
Respectful nurturing
Loving kind hearted
Cause 2-1=1 all by myself
Committed to hell
Suffering in silence
best ain’t good enough
Love hard not good enough
Vindictiveness subdue my pride
Manipulation got my mental in a gridlock
Illusion flake my reality
Lord please help
Weak flesh tied me to wickedness
Sociopath ascending on Vernon
Poison my thrill
The thrill is gone
At the lowest
Looking outside myself
My covenant
Spirit check out
Searching for connect
Connect with my true half
Starving for newness
Wishing on a star
When a change to come
Ahhh... close my eyes
Visualize her
Pecan smooth skin
Angelic smile
Crying inside
She out there somewhere
Lord guide me
Blessed the day
She my world
Thrilled my soul at peace
Reset on happiness
Pause on misery
New faze begun
Heartthrobs like king
Solomon’s
My hands
are
shaking
I
love you
unconditionally
Why?
Because
my
babies
You are
the world
to me
Beloved
because
I know
no bounds
Such a
sweething
Your
being
my sweet
ecstasy
I held
you
in
my arms
at
your
conception
Looking
deeply
into
the eyes
of your
beginning
Hoping
beyond
all
reason
for your
release
and
believing
by
looking
for the
beauty
I had to
recover
in being
your
Mom
It was
so
overwhelming
But
I did
the best
I could
under
the
circumstances
Giving
you hugs
and kisses
And waiting
for the day
Walking in
loving ways
You would
remember
that we had
these
brighter days
before there
was Hell
to pay
Please
my babies
hold on
to those
brighter days
before
your
father called
on his
sick pay
and left us
standing
in his
sociopath ways
He'll get his
DAY
The time
I call
HELL DAY
WITH PAY
,
Never trust a sociopath
You are but a mere pawn
The game of chess their playing
Before you were even born
Consistently controlling
Expertly they design
While you begin to question
They assure you it's all fine
Exploring your securities
Challenging your beliefs
Showering you with compliments
The love they show is deep
Very few close friendships
As noone understands
Only you can see within
Ignoring the red flags
At first they look in awe at you
Jealous of your heart
But trust them at your peril
As they'll tear your soul apart
Never trust a sociopath
They play a different game
As you lean for contentment
They jump on a faster train
They search for risky consequence
Find excitement in your fears
They pick away until you bleed
And shame away your tears
They'll push you to your limits
Then walk away with glee
As you question what was said
You'll be begging on your knees
Friends will see right through them
They'll hate them from the start
They plant small seeds of questioning
Guiding them apart
The easy way to make you theirs
Is fill your hopes with doubt
They isolate, they devastate
You'll learn to never shout
As you begin to change yourself
You start to question you
They'll laugh and say it's in your head
You oversensitive fool
Family is worried
Friends try to explain
You try to reassure them
You try to hide your pain
Never trust a sociopath
Unless you learn their games
They only have one weakness
And that's their lack of shame
When you understand a sociopath
You'll find the strength within
As you have love, and joy, and trust
That's how they dragged you in
The very things they made you doubt
The things that make you true
But as you see life's not a game
They lose their grip on you
To understand a sociopath
Are broken at the core
While they sit planning their next move
Youve already closed the door
Today we played, my friends and I,
In rain in the city streets.
We laughed aloud and teased our games,
Rendering our joy complete.
The day was full of exhilaration.
The sun joined bright and warm.
Tomorrow I’ll meet my friends again
To feel the water and the storm.
But tonight, I will spend with you
Sharing secrets of a hurtful past
Told as gilded tales
By an immoral sociopath.
I share to you with confidence
One of my poignant dreams.
A tale of stirring fantasy
Where images are not as they seem.
Moonlight plays in the city streets
Forming shadows as we run,
Confronting demons beneath the stars
While dawn in the distance reigns.
Passage waits beyond the gates
Its doors are silent still.
Before them lies with all its will
This sordid, chilling tale.
Cold snakes coiled on soiled paths
They spring in naked truth
Biting hard at every turn
Retelling of violent youth.
Poised to keep their stranglehold
On phantom victims’ crimes.
It’s here we hid the willing sin
We’ve accepted many times.
My days have served to comprehend
These cords of velvet sin,
Whilst night comes as a saving fury
To cleanse my soul within.
As dreams become reality
And thoughts embrace their role,
We resist the curse of others
Playing mind games in our soul.
Within me stays this silent stance
A constant holding firm
Amongst the ever-changing days
And nightly dreams and thirsts.
In times of almost madness
We hear the echoes cry
From these nightly games of memory
When they’ve heard our apt reply.
My past I’ve viewed with broken heart
As I walked the vacant streets
Cleansing myself in the daily rains,
Praying for final release.
It is here I hunt for solitude,
And here I find my soul.
I search my heart within myself
To learn what I have always known.
If rain could rinse me of my sins
And sun reward for pain and loss,
Stars know solitude only in silence
As dreams prove my freedom at last.
Poem first published in Withering Words Magazine, 2026, all rights reserved
God Knows Why
God knows why a grown man will lie
While people will wrongfully assume
The man is just a another loser
A sociopath in whom truth has no room
But God was watching when the man was a boy
And another ripped away his security, his joy
Leaving him shattered, confused and supposing
He must have committed some wrongs
For he no longer feels he belongs
Now lies protect his vulnerability
A liar molded from another's jealousy
Why could she not know his devastating state
Prompted by her own self-serving hate
Yes it is true
She crippled the innocent one
For selfish gain, she caused his pain
Denying what she had done
Throughout his growing years
His lies salt her tears
She regards him of little worth
All the while she was the cause
By separating him from the one he loved best
Now she lives with consequence of her sin
Knowing her child suffers deep within
She persists in claiming he lies by choice
She is the damaged one
Who destroyed the stability once known by her son
My prayer is that God will deliver him one day
Awaken his pure ,honest heart she drove away
Now a man he doesn't know how precious he is
He despises himself and when alone he will cry
He does not know what makes him lie
But God knows why....and so do I
I once had an office job sitting next to Miss Sunshine day in and day out. She and her 7th Day Adventist Jesus were always so positive and jolly about everything, it was hard not to smack her.
One day with syrupy sweet intonation she asked why I was so cynical and wasn't I an unhappy person.
I said, "Only a sociopath could be happy about the truth of things, but I'm just a realistic observer not hiding behind cheerful nonsense; there's no correlation to happy or unhappy. Look at you for instance. You are smiling and upbeat all the time. And I don't believe I've ever met an unhappier person."
She was stunned, momentarily silent, mouth hanging open. Then she burst into terrible wracking sobs of anguish.
I met him at the art gallery viewing art,
his dark brooding sexy look touched my heart.
Ambrogio was his name,
I am Annabella, said I; (as his eyes went red like a flame)
my attraction to him I could not tame,
of him I wanted to be part.
For months we met in different places at night,
and always a love poem I would write.
then, a letter I wrote,
Oh Ambrogio, in your beauty forever I could float;
but I must leave you for a place remote,
I journey at twilight.
My life, Ambrogio has been a dark twisted path,
full of destruction and aftermath
you see, I am a schemer,
a fraud of a girl not your beautiful dreamer;
you fell in love with a blood sucking screamer,
a pathetic sociopath.
Love, Annabella
________________________
March 29, 2018
Poetry/Narrative/Love Letter II
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1008-713-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Love Letter II
sponsor, Viv Wigley
Sixth Place
The Legend says:
Ambrogio was the first vampire, a young man cursed by Apollo
The faerie girl had been warned of Master’s temper more than once,
But she had seen a glimmer of a smile, and she liked the way he looked at her.
She decided to try, for she knew that she could find his good.
She would make him love her, for something. She would smooth out his creases, and iron him in clean new ways, present him in a new light to the naysayers who were so mean about him. No one is all bad, right?
She would help him begin anew, and reinvent himself.
A psychopath? No. A sociopath? Never! She liked the look of the man.
For twelve long years she gave Master big giant bunches of herself – emotionally, spiritually, and psychologically. She gave and gave and gave, not realizing the cost, until she had almost nothing
left for herself.
Her wings had stopped working. Her hair was a mess, her spirit was spent, she was depressed, and sad, all the time.
She did not recognize even an imperceptible glimmer of hope in herself.
She no longer lived her truth.
She had championed him until there was nothing left of her.
The faerie council and dwarf committee decided to intervene. They asked if they could carry her off, and nurture her, and love her, and nurse her back to health. Her self-absorbed Master laughed at their meager attempts to save his toy.
He shooed them away like the fluffs of dust they were, glorying in Faerie Girl’s all-consuming protection of him, reveling that she was willing to give him her persona, feelings, and pixie dust.
The day of her death, he replaced her with a fresh, new, optimistic, ready-to-save-him faerie without giving Faerie Girl a bit of a thought.
She was just another toy, broken, discarded, and burned, like the others before her.
The sight of this bourgeois, career politician/businessman
(A so-called liberal, no less)
Seated high on the dais at the all candidates meeting,
Looking down on his constituents.
Trying to look as human as possible,
He's wearing his best crocodile smile tonight.
And no matter how hard he tries to look harmless,
He still looks slightly inhuman, perhaps like a
Conspiratorial, world-enslaving E.T., or
Somewhat mad, Byzantine potentate.
Reptilian, his soulless, lifeless eyes momentarily
Slide back and forth in their sockets,
Back and forth across the crowd before him,
As he scrutinizes, with a cold, calculating, alien look,
His sheep-like electoral victims-to-be.
Or maybe what's most disturbing, even truly
Frightening, is that the strange look in his eyes
Actually seems like the look in the eyes of, God forbid,
The 12-year-old sociopath whose photo was in the newspapers:
The unfortunate, little monster who tragically, heartbreakingly,
Willfully murdered a child half his age.
In a truly gentler, kinder world,
Work would not make a person merely enslaved;
Family would not be used as a weapon against one;
And the struggle for liberty would not, in
Effect, make real freedom the domain of only the few.