Long Unhappy Poems
Long Unhappy Poems. Below are the most popular long Unhappy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unhappy poems by poem length and keyword.
Please, do not ask me...
To pee in a cup!
Oh, that divine thrill an MD commands!
To have us pee in a cup~an experience so
far from thrilling,
Especially, even more so,if your bladder is
not willing!
You have to call in an unhappy staff member,
To run the water for you, as when you
were a child, now,recall do!
And she has to sing "Tiny Bubbles in the
Water" to you, too?
More embarrassment comes, when only two
drops fall in that ignominious plastic cup.
And your name is emblazoned on the
outside of it, much like the Stanley Cup!
Perhaps, I should carry it above my head?
As the great,Wayne Gretzky once did!
To the cheers and applause of the others,
Hysterical and believing..that I truly and
Absolutely lost my lid!
Bring on the Molson, eh?
Panagiota Romios
3/9/2019
Scrambled legs hopping and jumping
Rear ends jiggling, blood is pumping
Modern dancing in the late 60’s is cool.
Sent more than one lad to military school.
This is outrageous parents were saying.
Bellbottoms and bare bellies had them praying.
Free love announced on cups and signs.
Unexpected fathers not signing dotted lines.
Women sadly left to raise children all alone.
Many in another country, so far from home.
Agent Orange’s residue lingering for generations.
Viet Nam War rivaling Star Trek’s unhappy federations.
Scrambled legs hopping and jumping
Rear ends jiggling, blood is pumping
The end of decency and modesty in many ways.
Yet an exciting time for those of us who survived these days.
Death has been grinning at me ever since I dawned,
But I only grasped about his power
Then when I realized that he may not give me what
I always thought he would;
A peaceful afterlife in a stable world surrounded
Always by loving arms and drowning under
Hungry kisses!
Death then, becomes a show of might, a dance
Enacting the victory of evil on Existence!
Souls are bound to be trapped in his net,
And he, so like a bold ruler,
Chooses to inflict upon us all, the same
Load of despair that we had thought we had fled from
By submissively going on the flow of life's river
Towards the ocean of holy promises!
Why, we birth not because we have chosen to
We die not because we choose to as well, at least
Not for most of us!
Everything is compelled here, in this world,
Everything, from bodily caring activities to
Making money to sustain our families!
Why, even poets feel compelled to write
As, their hearts are constantly getting slow roasted
On life's tedious paths!
Life dances, as if such were his act of victory,
His cry of triumph
His way of imposing himself over us all,
And we, frightened beings faced with the roar of his laughter
Can only accept whatever he gives us!
Pray, wonder I then,
Could the grins of Death hide his intentions?
They gleam as spotlessly clean mirrors do,
I can hardly see what Death looks like
As the lights reflecting from his glass teeth
Force me to squint and to close my eyes!
His footsteps thump over the ground
And I have to hold on to whatever I can
To stop myself from falling
His roars deafen my aural senses
And the satisfied malice that his songs resonate with
Can only bring me to cry, wounded and desperate!
Does he know, then, whether I shall be happy or unhappy
In his state
As he has seen all this time
How Life had kept me sorrowful
While I lived it!
2 March 2019
Respect your pains, give it all hidden tears...
It might mean nothing to those seeing you cry;
It takes real you to be strong amid fears
When hidden tears must have run your eyes dry.
You would surely know,
When you're good enough to go...
Off what violence grow.
Don't leave your dream all because it seems tough,
The tougher it makes you unhappy, so
It would make you great through means life makes rough...
Threats; seen and unseen making you go slow.
Less care people run...
Saves enough for timing fun,
When trying seems done.
Shame don't for once care of your happiness,
Threats only brag of loading fear or not...
PEACE never set to put back riskiness,
Until craziness put down doings so hot.
Miss, watch what you share,
Before truth becomes unfair...
Tease best spear's affair.
Please, I beg of you darling; cry... cry fast-
Do not waste too much time hiding worries
Behind fake smiles not enough to shine, past
That only hands you lessons in diaries.
Write each to your heart;
Face the truth, put lies apart...
Hope dreams, dare restart.
In the end, you- alone with your blind thought
Only takes to mind, all regrets that come,
For the chances not taken; by luck sought...
What a nice joke you wouldn't have become!
You waited too long,
To make decisions while young...
Ought avoid sad song.
“Who, my husband, “she smiled, “he has no
alcohol problem.”
This is walking on the Razor’s Edge, but try
and tell a codependent that one!
They will laugh uproariously thinking this is
all a game of fun.
Thinking they are physicians or perchance,
beloved psychiatrists?
They feed, house, bail from jail, their helpless
partners.
The belief that they can save them is not just
a tiny lie, it’s a whopper!
The codependent is akin to a person going through
life with no vision.
They just cannot admit to being helpless nor unhappy
or lost.
Nor do they understand, the ultimate end, will very
likely, be death~ the final cost.
I have seen the codependent, standing right
next to a their beloved’s casket.
No, not a single, sorrow-filled,moist tear at all.
Well, sadly, what to expect, from a very lost,
Miss or Mr. Know it all?
10/2/2022
Gather round all you little kiddies
Got a story I'd like to share
Bout a tiny mouse named Bartholomew
And a hulking big bear called Clare!
Now Clare wasn't the least bit happy
That his name sounded quite a bit girly
Had a wee mousey friend Bartholomew
Who's name sounded strong and burly!
So hulking big Clare the unhappy bear
Asked his mousy friend Bartholomew
If he'd be so kind and wouldn't mind
Switching names, that'd be so cool!
Bartholomew said he wanted some time
To check with dear Cynthia his friend
About this idea of switching names
On her opinion he would depend!
Cynthia said, “If you want my opinion
Your name doesn't sound like a bear
But if Clare wants the name Bartholomew
We're still friends but now you'll be Clare!”
A name doesn't change the person you are
You'll be the same friend in the end
So forever after Mr. Bartholomew Bear
And wee mousey Clare stayed friends!
© Jack Ellison 2013
I want to show my gratitude
For your patient attitude
Giving me room to slowly
Work out my past misery
You've been kind and very sweet
To a girl that has been beat
Trying to lift myself back
From the unhappy attack
I have known for quite a while
Following me every mile
Until the path led me to you
Slowly my happiness grew
With you a little bit more
As I started to explore
New emotions coming through
Now the minutes I'm with you
Are making my days a lot stronger
Please hold out a little longer
And I promise I will be
Showing you how gratefully
I am with the way you treated
A sad girl who was defeated
Jubilant Johnny Jump Up runs all over town
But what about Debutante Julie Jump Down?
She lands on horses and cows and such.
Would re-directing her be too much?
If she were to also jump up along with Johnny
Would that infuriate his lovely wife named Connie?
They used to have a running feud, these unhappy two.
Getting them to agree would be a coup.
Are you on board on helping me redirect Julie Jump Down?
I think we can catch her; she is on this side of town.
Uh-oh here is Connie and she looks mean and sour.
She is one hag I never want to make dour.
My apologies to the horses and cows and such.
But I think redirecting Julie might be too much.
I want to stay on the good side of terrible Connie.
So, I am not going to mention Julie or Johnny.
I hate to say that I have some news that's very sad.
We've lost an actress who was named Diane Ladd.
She starred in the 'Alice' sitcom as Belle and in 'Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore' as Flo.
Diane starred in over twenty episodes of 'Alice' and she helped to make it a better show.
Everybody who saw her perform can tell you that she was talented.
She was eighty-nine and many people are sad because she's dead.
Her friends, family and fans are very unhappy and they're shedding tears.
She won't ever be forgotten even if the world lasts for 100,000 more years.
[Dedicated to Diane Ladd (1935-2025) who died on November 3, 2025]
Dad was digging in the garden
When he struck a custard well
Mum was none too happy
By her phizog you could tell
We watched the plume of custard
As it rose into the sky
Dad said “It’s bloomin’ lovely
We can have that with some pie
Mum was still unhappy
“This has ruined my best dress
You can both get out there later
And clear up this ruddy mess”
First thing in the morning
I went out, to see the hole
Scraped away the surface
And I filled a little bowl
Sitting on my haunches
In my jim jams and a vest
I took a cautious spoonful
And declared it was the best
Then later on, the press appeared
And in the garden mustered
As Dad explained how he had found
A well of perfect custard
A well known geolologist
Was hired to survey
He said our well, might just achieve
Ten thousand puds a day
So, Dad went out and bought himself
A brand new custard pump
And put it in the shed that he
Was just about to dump
With lots and lots of effort
And a little bit of planning
We built ourselves a factory
And we started custard canning
Now mum is very happy, ‘cause
We’ve bought a house that’s bigger
Don’t know what she’ll say though
When she sees Dad’s bought a digger