Long Suffered Poems
Long Suffered Poems. Below are the most popular long Suffered by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Suffered poems by poem length and keyword.
Became a sinner
Became guilty
I can’t remember my first sin. But I have a lot
But that is not my mistake. Life created mine
Satan drove me here. I am a sinner for this life
Satan created my life, my situations. Hunted
I am out of Hell. No home. I am a homeless
No home. I haven’t loved. Homeless of love
But lives. A wanderer. A demonic style. Life
I still, I will live this life. Never, never mind
It’s my blue kind. Of a loser, noble dark life
Now poor, I will be rich. If not, then the soul
But desire is my follower, light shadow, my life
Here is a cemetery, I love the walk there
I find my life, past life. I brought flowers
Flower to stone. To the grave. Oh, dead life
To time, living past. In soul, suffered. Style
My sins. Women, alcohol, nightlife. But style
My sins. Positive thinking, love. But no desire
My sins. Believing in life. Hell's bells, dead life
My sin is my human life, I am passed demon style
In the Hell hasn’t sinned. Not exist. No law. Just life
But here I haven’t a kind. I am alone. An alien life
I am not a human. I don’t want to be that. Just life
I am a blue, the space, the sky. Universe. A far
I do not doubt that here is a demonic love. Style
But I don’t do my demonic style here. Blocked desire
I love this life here. The Wembley Life. Glittering life
The home. Universal, this life, love, desire. The kind
This is my fortune. The saver. Wembley is life
Wembley is a life. Wembley is life. The style
Yeah. But get back to the original meaning
of life. Yeah. Hmm. I am a wanderer, living past
Walking in this city. It is good. Gives life
Yes. After these lines, I understand my life
Wembley saved my life
Wembley gave me a life
I enjoy this old demonic life
Please don't give up hope
Vs 1
With dark days upon us,
seems there's no way out
Oppression may blind us,
to the light all around
Vs2
When daylight comes calling,
you ignore the call
You don't feel like standing,
In case you may fall
Chorus
Please don't give up hope in our God,
please don't give up hope
The Almighty will help you to cope
He'll help us to cope
Please don't give up hope in our God,
please don't give up hope
The Almighty will comfort you,
He'll comfort us too
Vs3
No matter what ails you,
He knows what you need
Your best friend will be there,
in word and in deed
Vs4
And if you have suffered,
the loss of loved ones
Your heart may be breaking,
maybe you feel numb
Chorus
Please don't give up hope in our God,
please don't give up hope
The Almighty will help you to cope
He'll help us to cope
Please don't give up hope in our God,
please don't give up hope
The Almighty will comfort you,
He'll comfort us too
Vs 5
It's time to go searching,
for comfort from God
His words will release you,
inspire in you awe
Chorus
Please don't give up hope in our God,
please don't give up hope
The Almighty will help you to cope
He'll help us to cope
Please don't give up hope in our God,
please don't give up hope
The Almighty will comfort you,
He'll comfort us too
John Derek Hamilton
July11,2020
Departure
I am finally happy
That my battle ended today
I was suffering for a long time
With depression
Yes I was already tired of living
I wanted to die so badly
Also I counted the days
Hopping my wish would arrive
Now it finally arrived
I am going to heaven
My new home
God finally cured me
I have no depression anymore
I know that my friends that are
Left on earth will miss me
Also that will be a sad day for than
I don't know if they will ever get used
To live their lives without me
I think that will be very hard
And sad for than
AIso please remember that
I am not suffering anymore
The way I suffered when I lived on earth
Now I am still sleeping
It still very early
I will wake up at noon
I will have my lunch
That God's servants cooked for me
It was very tasty
Then I will walk in God's
Garden
To get some fresh air
Earth Eulogy
By Mark D. Stucky
She was a good planet,
put to death in her prime
by a pandemic of people.
Homo-sapiens was a disease
with mutating and metastasizing
technological and industrial pus,
emitting environmental toxins,
exterminating flora and fauna,
until the infection’s surge
triggered its own extinction.
Vaccines of ecological education
and environmental regulations
could not overpower
the pathogen’s resistance.
When the global viral load
caused ever-rising fever,
Earth suffered convulsions
and, finally, Gaian coma.
Other sentient souls
amidst the starry galactic mist
will surely miss you very much.
Rest in peace, dear Earth.
(Image by Gerd Altmann on Pixabay.com.)
Epigenetics?
I don't understand, but I wonder how come
I dream and remember things that happened
before I was born
perhaps caused when I am in my pram lay
absorbed without knowing what
the adults were talking about
my great-grandfather was a famed baker
who specialized in cakes and puddings
he had his own business, which his son my
grandfather squandered
I was drawn to the catering business
I no longer dream of my sister or my brother
they died young and have disappeared into
mythology
My mother I remember with fondness and
sadness, a hard-working woman with fierce
political opinions.
In later years, she succumbed to drinking and
took little interest in things around her
Of my father, I remember nothing
like looking into a blank wall, as my mother
once remarked I looked like my father
and she bore a secret smile.
One ominous thing is alcohol has played
and cast dark shadows through several
generations
I have myself suffered from this soul-eating
illness, I overcome by living far away and
in my writing
The addiction tendency is genetic
"Neglect is the biggest disease."
Death followed her, like an unwelcome guide.
Grim Reaper stalking, forced her shadow to hide.
Angel of death took her sister, but let her survive.
How could a child understand death and being alive?
Other siblings distracted her suffering and pain,
like rays of sunshine on dark days with heavy rain.
A caterpillar seeking a cocoon to shelter from bruising,
for the wounds she had suffered were not from her choosing.
With fragile wings the butterfly gradually learned to fly,
when falling in love, her beloved made her feel so high.
But the Grim Reaper returned and took her parents away,
heartbroken she wondered how long the pain would stay.
Malevolently, death returned like a bitter enemy,
mercilessly snatched her babies without integrity.
Not content, Grim Reaper returned without warning,
stole her beloved – her tears never stopped falling.
Tormented emotions meant each day was full of anguish,
terrorized by dark demons who continued to languish.
Losing loved ones and falling into depression deeper.
Sensitive and fragile, she beckoned the Grim reaper.
Preparing to die – surviving was no longer her intention,
as the Grim Reaper approached – there was an intervention.
An ethereal light appeared, illuminating hope through her heart.
Death fled like a coward, afraid of the light, he would depart.
Wings broken, but still intact – butterfly began to write,
expressing her emotions, suppressing them with delight.
Angel of death would return one day, that was for sure,
but, producing beautiful poetry was temporarily her cure.
Originally written in 26 December 2015
Re-posted 19 November 2020
Dedicated to the poet formerly knows as Broken Wings (Constance)
THE EDGE OF REASON
Absolutely no fault
on my earnest effort.
Yet failed! Suffered a lot.
Just to gain
Stress and strain.
Even being competent,
not to get right judgement
but to hurt sentiment.
Tight corner!
Heart- burner.
All attempts went in vain.
Stood on one leg as crane.
Turned invalid insane.
Hard to bear.
Only fear.
Reasoning did not work.
Intellect failed to spark.
Disappointment gave jerk.
Neither help,
nor escape.
Edge of reasoning breaking,
Strong confidence shaking,
Danger overtaking.
No outlet!
So! Accept.
08/29/17
The Edge Of Reason Contest by John Hamilton
Sixth Place
He watched his mother, his mentor and three of his best friends
die right before his eyes.
His mother died of TB very slowly,
and when she slipped away he was there at her bedside.
John Tunstall, his mentor, employer and very close friend,
was riddled with bullets by a gang of corrupt lawmen,
right in front of him.
His pals Dick Brewer, Tom O'Folliard and Charlie Bowdre,
were all murdered in the presence of his company,
and yet despite all of the violence and all of his tragedy,
his outlook on life was always cheery.
Never dwelling in his dark past or present miserably,
always looking towards his future joyously living life fully.
How the hell did you do that William H Bonney?
I have suffered far less than he,
and yet I'm a miserable SOB who avoids everybody.
I wish I knew your secret William H Bonney.
As much as I admire you, I also sometimes feel envy.
Why, after having suffered a fall down this mundane plane
My chances of being in a state of gain
My hopes of even wishing to be arisen
Were more than inexistent!
But then, the power of love does be so grand
Reminded was I, of how much I do mean
To the one I have always been in love with
The one because of whom I had always been in a state of grieve
Yes, a second chance was I offered
A second chance which made me content
A second chance imbibed with hues so deeply colored
That to it and to its strange force, I surrendered
Love does be a blessing
Love does be the force behind one's inner strength
Love does make one feel so at ease
Love does even cure any sort of ailing
Love has become my faith
Or should I say, my faith did turn into love
Now, a floating spirit I have become, free and wild
Letting myself be blown whichever way does go the summery breeze
I did choose another route
I did think of my own pain as being so acute
As to forsake love, as to forsake solace
Wanting to build for myself, another castle, even if were out of place
But Love wanted me back
Love offered me a second chance
Or should I say, I gave love another chance
Whichever, it matters not, for it is a love which does be reciprocated
Pray, this life does revolve on uncertainty
It is laden with misery and relies on pity
Love graces it, I shall accept this second chance
I shall make of it, the tune on which I shall always dance
Always, as long as I do breathe
Always, as long as I shall live
Pray, love does be my savior
Love does be my caring gardener!
I am an afterthought,
Unnecessary to the plot.
A seed so frail,
Poured out an empty pail.
Like a weed I grow,
My roots running shallow.
Look in envy,
At these walls so empty.
Just something to bring a smile,
But only last a while,
Then go away,
Before you stray,
Into that unconvincing truth,
Away from youth.
A mirror knows,
Not what it shows,
But wonders all the same.
Could it be,
That what I see,
Is still unknown,
Not imagination overblown.
I look into myself,
And see an empty shelf,
Of empty frames;
Dreams I cannot claim.
I cannot fill,
But cannot be still.
Against myself I rage,
With every single empty page.
A template incomplete,
Still supposed to compete,
Against their highs and lows,
And heaven only knows,
The dream I cannot claim.
The rules may not apply,
But not because I’m sly.
I did not come to play,
Yet here I have to stay.
You tell me its unfair,
But politely lend a chair,
For me to sit and wait,
Careful not to complain.
Yes, regretfully stare,
At your lended chair,
Shake your head,
At this undeveloped head.
Call me a martyr,
I’m not trying harder.
Call me a tyrant,
My screams are silent,
For I have suffered nothing.