Long Unwinnable Poems

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


Premium Member The Wealthy Lie

To exploit our folks in a capitalist machine, 
To encourage the rich and the poor. 
To make the majority always bow down to the few, 
To fight the unwinnable war. 

We live in an antagonist inequitable state, 
A state that encourages lasting torment. 
Where the few at the top expect the rest of the crowd, 
To give them their money, like a rent.

Selling trickle down policy, they believe their own lie, 
That the wealthy will pay for the broke.
Not realising that’s see through and never has worked,
That their cash isn’t meant for us folk.

If the rich want to stay rich and not have a war,
They’ll need to make healthy, safe and free.
For all of the citizens, in every small and big town,
They’ll need to make a state that’s fed and happy.
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member Fall of Afghanistan

Just like dominoes, Afghanistan falls;
It was only a matter of time.
American soldiers cash in their chips 
And head home on a jet plane
After two decades in the trenches.
An unwinnable war is done,
So is any semblance of order.
Absolute chaos reigns,
Afghanistan incinerates
And President Ghani couldn't take 
The heat; flees kitchen, and country.
Afghanis now fend for themselves 
In Disneyland for the Taliban.
A war-torn country in complete 
Disarray; a devil's playground.
Desperate citizens pack the airport 
Like sardines attempting to flee.
Blood flood bullet-riddled bodies 
Dropping every which way 
As Talibans target practice and strap 
Suicide bombers. More bodies drop 
From airplanes taking off; 
an unspeakable horror. It was televised.
Amid mass exodus from Kabul airport,
Washington politicians play 
The blame game, pointing fingers 
At Biden and Trump.
Afghani women stage protests 
Demanding equal rights.
Many questions remain unanswered.
When will American citizens 
Who never got the chance 
To leave Afghanistan be rescued? 
What becomes of our Afghan allies? 
How long will the carnage 
And disorder last? Is a return 
To normalcy a pie in the sky?


Afghanistan Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
Date written: 09/05/2021

Premium Member The War Within

Thoughts coil around my mind,
Not chains—no, chains can be broken.
These are roots, tangled deep,
Threaded through marrow,
Anchored in places I cannot reach.

I pull. They tighten.
I resist. They hold.
Every struggle feeds them,
Every breath is barbed wire in my lungs.

My own making binds me,
Trapped between what is real
And what my mind refuses to release.
I chase clarity, but it is fleeting—
A shimmer in the dark, gone before I grasp it.

What am I searching for in this endless maze?
A key? A door? A silence that does not break.
But silence is never empty—
It is a canvas where fear paints itself whole.

I fight, I claw, I tear at the walls—
But they are made of thought.
I pull at the roots—
But they are my own hands, clenching tighter.

This war is unwinnable.
This war is unending.
This war is—

No.

I stop.

I stop running.
I stop struggling.
I stop feeding the thing that feeds on me.

And in that stillness—
The walls do not crumble,
The chains do not break,
The roots do not vanish.

But they loosen.

I see them now for what they are—
Not barriers. Not shackles. Not a prison.

But something I can shape.
Something I can wield.
Something that was never against me,
Only waiting to be mastered.

Fear will not write this war.
Doubt will not carve my fate.
I will not bow to a mind that is mine to command.

I am not a prisoner.
I am not the war.
I am the architect.

The Grapevine

Watch me turn that
dirty water
into the finest
of wines
From the outside
looking in
it appears thine eyes
are clouded
I appear shrouded
in mystery
& covered in
a history unknown
Earthly throne illusions
pale in comparison
to the kingdom
discovered within
I've already seen
the end
so beginning is a
foregone conclusion
Their collusion
started a war 
deemed unwinnable
by The Most High
My rules of engagement
seem foreign
as they differ from
what's seen as
conventional
Protruding 
thought forms are
no match for my
intentional flames
coming from the sky
FYI
This is a lighter
with fluid 
that flows everlasting
with no intention to gain
I reign from a place
where rain is a 
necessary evil and
given much respect
A space where
its drops are seen
in retrospect
as mere projections
The smere & wetness
was needed in order to
facilitate growth
from the seeded
Now there's grounds
to grow toward the sky
without backward eyes
This bastardized
tilling of grounds we see
is a perversion of what he
originally had in mind
In due time
some will see if the fruit
was really worth the
growing of the tree
Watch me
as I transform
from water into ice
& then steam rising high
A locomotive powered
by dreams
from behind clear
open eyes
If this tracks
years from now
they'll be mapping
the course of my train
A pioneer
squeezing every drop
from the grapevine
in the rain

Premium Member Mirror, In The Line Of Fire: POTW

''Reflection of two world faith's, they're [+ & -] for now, HAIL, the created who followed their rules, be 'change' in their faith that bear's silly nothings but rules & regs that [/'s not x's] = 'warmongers. Rumi kissed Grace = CHANGE"

#3

GRACE
    Key Holders [-]    &    [+] Door Openers
 RUMI

Mirrors seize and free; joys and fears; wherefore,
lost toss and turns while hope waits for morning,
gullible holds keys, knowledge opens door,

Faults are the measures by those that implore,
while patience corrects whose worth adds timing,
mirrors seize and free; joys and fears; wherefore,

The ins and outs of worth; toiling, --encore,
a failed piece that favors one who's holding,
gullible holds keys, knowledge opens door,

Past pools plus and minus the ID's score,
super balanced the pendulums swaying,
mirrors seize and free; joys and fears; wherefore,

Life game's unwinnable; Ace--Royal wars,
snake eyes, don't pass go ..., directly singing,
gullible holds keys, knowledge opens door,

When they announce the winners on All Fours,
be game change--their rules, your games to winning,
mirrors seize and free; joys and fears; wherefore,
gullible holds keys, knowledge opens door.


if you want something done you have to do it yourself

The phone rings for someone else.

The promises arrive dressed in clean shirts, smelling of aftershave and polished shoes.
They leave before the dishes are washed.
You learn.

The world isn't lazy because it's cruel.
It's lazy because someone always believes another pair of hands is coming.

No cavalry. 
No angels. 
No man with a clipboard checking off your miracles.

Just your own bones, aching before daylight, dragging themselves toward another unwinnable morning.

You curse, you laugh, you light another cigarette even if you quit years ago, because memory still smokes.

The rent gets paid by the hand that signs it.
The floor gets swept by the one tired enough to notice the dirt.
The tears dry without asking permission.

If there's a god, he probably respects a person who keeps moving while talking to the dark.

That's the joke.

Everyone wants saving.

But most days salvation looks like standing up again when your knees have already voted no.

If you want something done,
pick up the hammer,
write the letter,
wash the cup,
say goodbye,
say hello,
keep breathing.

The world has never owed you a thing.

But every now and then,
it steps aside
for the one who refuses to wait.

The Reaper Reigns

Written By:  D. Collins 3/7/25


For the non-believers he’s now here in the flesh.
Seriously masquerading as a U.S. President.
Civil destruction is what gives him a rise.
With a “Hail Hitler” minion standing by his side.



Everything he touches creates chaos and death.
Earning the title as society’s number one menace..
The Eve of Destruction is the time in which we live.
And the Reigning Reaper ain’t bringing nothing positive.



Dressed in all black and swinging a sickle.
Chopping off the livelihoods of decent people.
Drama and turmoil are his prize-winning traits.
So, how could that somehow make America great?



The Reaper's certainly in a hurry to start World War 3.
Picking an unwinnable fight by messing with the Chinese.
Pissing on our friends and snuggling up to foes.
In the end we will see how well that goes.

Premium Member Verses in Ash

If life were all the silly words I wrote,
in my love's long, unwinnable campaign, 
a losing battle, whose odds were remote,
it would have been lived entirely in vain. 

If life were all the awkward words I spoke, 
those signs that I could never make you hear, 
which might as well go up in fading smoke, 
I can only hope it would disappear. 

If life were all the foolish words I thought, 
dreaming things far beyond my humble reach,
I guess it would be, just as well as not,
scattered in the cold water by the beach. 

So, take my corpse and my verses, in ash,
and drop them where no one can hear them splash.
Form: Sonnet

Sessions

Sessions

Part one, Part two 
Part three, Part four 
To complete this story 
What more are you looking for?
The perfect words 
The perfect sayings 
Can we see what's portraying 
In the inside 
Bring it out 
That greatness shows them what it's about 
It's in you the potential 
Embrace it 
With problems 
Face it 
With negativity replacing it
You can do it 
Like a tool don't screw it 

Sessions 
Lessons 
All turn into blessings 
Sessions 
Lessons
All turn into blessings 

Got to make a change 
Everything is not meant to be the same 
Sometimes change is good 
Helps you from being so misunderstood 
You can figure out 
The end instead of only the beginning 
Don't you know you are winning 
In an unwinnable situation 
Where you at doesn't have to be your final placement 
Did I speak loud 
Or make a statement 
Did I make it clear
You are destined for greatness don't live in fear 

Sessions 
Lessons 
All turn into blessings 
Sessions 
Lessons
All turn into blessings

It's up 
When you down 
Know that God can turn it around 
(REPEAT 1X)

Sessions 
Lessons 
All turn into blessings 
Sessions 
Lessons
All turn into blessings
(REPEAT until the chorus fades)

Written by :Concetta Hardnett 
12/25/2022

Collections Reflections

It’s time to clock in and start up the vacuum.
This cash collector has walked into the room.
Dropping the balances like bombs from a B52.
Improving aged receivables and contacts too.

Repairing rifts with customers withholding payment.
Making sure they get crucial emails they’ve been sent.
Adjusting the language in each reminder notification.
To engage the recipient so they read the information.

Executing tactfully crafted responses once engaged.
Bravely settling disputes for the customers enraged.
Looking out for both parties’ mutual best interests.
Skillfully redirecting them to invoices they missed.

Analyzing A/R reports to find a pattern and trend.
To see which difficult clients I was able to bend.
Reflecting on which techniques failed and won.
To learn what helped or hurt to get the job done.

Invoices aged over a year are considered as unwinnable.
But on my posted spreadsheets, those payments are full.
These methods collected a million in every month of 2021.
By bonding with the AP reps to make their day more fun.

When I need to get serious, analyze the terms of a contract.
It’s crucial in disputes to determine the prudent way to act.
Using these skills helped me boost the rate of customer retention.
Crafted email templates informing clients of info needed to mention.

We’ve seen a bull in a china shop do more harm than good. 
My approach is to be agile as rubber, not breakable like wood.
Building rapport with the sales team to keep them in the know.
Broke wide open the dams for the awaited revenue to flow.
© Adam Segal  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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