Long Weeped Poems
Long Weeped Poems. Below are the most popular long Weeped by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Weeped poems by poem length and keyword.
An anti-resolvent-fume-
of-infest-chokes-out-integral-yield of humanity.
Thick as molasses, blackstrap morass of emnity.
Blight is apathy, and apathy is blight.
A Void, a claim farming the abyss.
Marketing it's lie, on sale.
Though it has a monopoly.
PolyEntropy.
In the garden of life; an empty field of dreams,
lays unintended on its side,
untended save for the shadows
that yield a mock harvest.
Decay on display of manifest.
The sky, descended as a Judas Ascendant,
it's belly gorged with malfeasance.
Exotic particles curse the ground
like wormwood in ritual burn, cache of ashen incense.
Libra sells you back your rye, mildewed and palmer wormed, to bore in at the destitute
at double price, double dealing
with the wages of Sin and Death.
Doubled down.
Doubled over.
So the pendulum swings
in shadows deep, a soul did sleep- in
Crimson and Clover, over and over, so over
the Lords of Plunder.
Its essence lost, a memory weeped as it counts
the costs.
Whispers of sorrow, a silent scream,
in the Wilderness-
under project Blue Beam/Warp Speed.
In the void, the soul did dream of cover
by militias of truth needs to redirect the beams.
The sky, a jumbotron of betrayal and lies,
false witness to commercial treachery
portrayal in its thespian guise.
Cursed particles dance in the wind,
like venus flytrap babys breath.
A haunting reminder of the wages of sin,
the touch of death.
The scales of justice are unbalanced and frayed,
black judgment, jury, executioner-DOJ.
Truth and falsehood in a deadly coliseum
where devouring Lions roam.
The rose of passion, its petals torn,
as humanity's innocence is forever shorn.
As the pendulum swings, a dance of despair,
seduces in masked charade in the wings.
Hope dwindles
in the poisoned communications air.
Ploughshares turned to weapons of hate,
In a world where love is overshadowed, here,
eclipsed by the tech magistrates in monopolistic
fare synods.
The farms bought by syndicates who will use starvation as cattle prod,
obedience broad, shock and awe.
The World Economic Forum is a synod,
a syndicate of Lawless Ones using purse strings to strangle us into submission.
Submission to their Fallen Angel false Gods.
There once was a boy who knew this girl
He loved her with his whole heart
Made her his world
She backstabbed and bruised him
But he still stayed
The girl told the boy it was his fault
The boy felt sad
The boy realized that love can only be bought
He thought to himself why couldn’t he go
Was it because he was attached
The real reason he would never know
The girl never truly loved him
She liked how he made her feel
Little did she know the boys future was grim
They hadn't spoken in weeks
She had no clue how he was doing
But that fateful day was the worst for the boy
He had gone through some problems
He sat on his bed not knowing
Whether to be mad sad or annoyed
He thought to himself this really hurts
He was hurt without her
But to she he was just a blur
That night the boy bought a gun
He had just turned 18
When got home he said aloud
Welp it’s been fun
So he grabbed his phone and called his
loved ones
One last time
Just to make sure they knew
How much he truly loved them
He they gets to his last call
It was the girl
The phone rang, no answer
He left a voice mail saying goodbye
She ignored his call but looked at the voice mail
She stared and stared but never read
The boy loads the gun with one bullet
Thoughts flood his mind
Like who will cry and I really want to die
A tear leaves his eye
because he starts to realize
For someone his body they’d have no choice but to find
He puts the gun up to his head at last he’s satisfied
He’s tied up all lose ends..
Said all his goodbyes
He closes his eyes prepared to die
His suffering can finally end
He pulls the trigger the gun goes BANG
It’s over it’s done
But eventually a poor soul
Found him lying in his blood
They cried, they weeped
They only had one question
Why’d he do it he seemed so happy
But that has no clue about the girl
He once saw as a blessing
Ooooooh.... Oooooh....OoooOooh...
Open up my pane and seep in my pain
I weeped too long without you
Open up my pane and let me hear the train
So we can learn to see where our train tracks lead...so you won't see us blue
Or stick to each other like wood glue
Ooooooh.... Oooooh....OoooOooh...
Just watch the beautiful skies
As the sunset descends below the hills,
I can feel your hands, shaking from the cold and the chills
I'll keep you warm
Just stay with me forevermore
So we can watch the birds soar
In the sun-drenched skies...
We'll never wave out goodbyes...
Just not yet...
So don't doubt and don't be upset
Or uptight, baby
Cause I'll hold you with passion and make you experience ecstasy
We'll be abiding next to sea...
Meanwhile, we'll live our normal lives and look forward to vacation time
When that time comes, I bet it would be absolutely sublime
Ooooooh.... Oooooh....OoooOooh...
Hey x3
You clothe me up...
What's up with you today?
I'm naked and ashamed
Turn the other way...
'Cause today is not the only day
I feel so damn afraid...
But hey x3
You make me feel whole
How was your day?
Hopefully the sky wasn't a shade of gray
Ooooooh.... Oooooh....OoooOooh...
I just wanted to say I love you so
I wanna see your sunlit, gracious glow...
Just so that you know...
You can cover up my nakedness
And replace it with happiness
You can cover up my shamefulness
Years had passed by..
The inner child in me had grown
I often reminisce...
Growing pains along the way..
Troubled by mistakes..
Dominated by fear..
Feeling like a burden to others..
Painful guilt ..
A baggage full of guilt
Traveled with me..
I tried to remove it..
A frustrated baggage full of guilt..
I would run..
Baggage would follow..
Trials and errors along the way..
Remorseful from the ghosts of the past..
The ghosts of the past
Haunting..
One must escape from it all..
I often run..
It often returns
Makes its grand entrance..
I exist the back door..
I must make amends with myself..
I will travel to a place where peace and love reside..
I shall forgive..
Forgivness shall wipe away the pain I have thrusted upon myself..
Peace, love and forgiveness is my salvation..
An antidote that must consume me..
My consumption is obvious..
My salvation is near..
I visited my inner child..
My inner child welcomed me
I had traveled back in time..
Glancing into the eyes of my inner child..
I feel serene..
A peaceful sensation
To my beautiful inner child
I forgive you..
I love you..
Unconditionally...
My inner child and I..
had embraced..
We weeped..
We shared our tears
Instantly I felt a rush ..
Suddenly .
The many years of pain..
Had vanished..
Guilt exited through the back door..
A massive load of baggage had been lifted..
My inner child is free..
I am free..
His heart overflowed with tears
As he watched her sleep
She was so frail and thin now
His inner being weeped
Together and in love since teenagers
She was ninety now….he ninety two
She was dying and the end was near
They knew what they wanted to do
She opened her eyes
Met his eyes and smiled
“Cup of tea my sweet ?” he asked
“It won’t be a while”
They sipped their tea slowly
Then lay down together in their bed
He cradled her in his arms
Kissed her gently on her forehead
She whispered “ l love you and will forevermore”
He softly echoed the same words
They kissed tenderly on the lips
Smiling they closed their eyes….not another word was heard!
They were both gone ……
Coldest day yet, 'fore new bairn was christened,
mother's muse foretold as hearth embers failed.
Scripture held tight, she quietly listened,
as cradled creature withered, weeped, and wailed.
What secret kept a mother by proxy,
pallid face adorned in humanlike form.
Life borne so different any other,
unabashed at life's ex utero norm.
Green-gilled coveting mother's pride they wait,
singing forgotten changling's mirthful strains.
Off sibling snatched by fae's strange fostered fate,
sad imposter never thrived, yet remains.
Mother's cast away changling unwanted,
yet child's love remains true and undaunted.
It makes me a better person
It's on my CV and I bring it up in conversation
It means I'm in tune with everything
I've discussed it in the kitchen,
Loading the dishwasher.
I cried in the basement thinking about it
I told a colleague at work that
I needed to talk to somebody
She asked if I needed to step outside
I stepped outside
I weeped on the steps of the building
I finished a can of sparkling water, then crushed it in my fist
The viewing platform for the harbour
The barren country road
I message my opera friends
They're out at an event hosted by DJ Anxiety
We are all crushed
Walking blind through life I failed to see,
That the weeping willow actually weeped for me .
The moon sailing slowly across the midnight sky.
Birds soaring up so high ,
you can barely see them fly .
This was as a living screen.
Nothing like it, had I ever seen.
Fish jumping, playing in a brook.
I sat down the forgotten book.
Cause anywhere I cared to look ,
new sights I was being fed.
Not alone in my head.
Didn't need to turn no page ,
To see all nature was one big stage.
Each life preforming their own little scene.
Like something from a dream.
From my eyes it brought a tear .
Gave me this feeling of peaceful cheer.
The moon up in the sky
It beams light , filling every eye.
Life is the heartbeat of this living stage .
With nature ,you never have to turn the page.
Tying the little letter with the softest green ribbon,
I tucked it safely inside a large tree, the one she often leaned against in the park.
A few days passed, I eagerly awaited her return. Often I visited in her quaint little home.
She was alone in more ways than one, in the dark her heart was heavy, her mind
plagued with demons of adversity.
I stood at her door longingly as she cried into her cushions.
A week had gone, she ate very little. She just couldn’t bring herself to leave that dark room.
The rain came down hard that day, gushing down the rooftop, streaming down her window in a rage.
Worn and exhausted she opened the curtains to gaze out at the little park.
She could see not one tree through the streaming waters, and I thought she would break down in sobs again.
Instead I saw a soft gleam in her eyes as she quickly slipped on her coat and made her way out the door.
At last (I smiled) she had found the strength to return to her favorite spot,
even with the weights of melancholy clamping onto her every being.
She walked calmly though noticeably distraught. It's as if she were entering the Gates of End;
Her hands reaching for the tree till at last she clutched it and weeped in agony.
This was my last chance, I knew. She was saying goodbye to her beautiful park.
Those beautiful trees— her only haven amidst the glare of the world!
She was begging for relief, for the end, so with my hand, I wafted the wind one last time, vigorously.
Out of the hollow of the tree popped the note, dry and unscathed.
She stared at it curiously for a while, then sheltered it gently in her heavy coat.
I could only watch and wait and hope.
She looked around as if expecting this note to be for merely another
but I knew deep inside her soul that she understood. It was always meant for her.
-words by Laura B
**Content warning: depicts abuse (please skip to one of my more lightheaded poems if one needs to).
To you, your abuse began as a game or joke,
so insidious, so quietly inhumane,
a spontaneous, cautionary tale, and yet,
so quickly it transpired into something much more.
Church was unsafe, school was unsafe, and finally -
you made my last safety net, my home - a prison.
I had just turned five, the first time you wrapped your hands
around my throat, and thrust your thumbs through my windpipe.
The weight of both your knees crushed my infantile chest,
so I couldn't possibly, even gasp, for air.
I squirmed, a silent whimper, and tried to break free,
but I was only five, and you were thirty-eight.
Your whole body was like a boulder upon me.
My eyes weeped, and I tried to beg, but had no breath.
My small hands weren't enough to get you off my throat,
and in the end, despite my effort, I'd pass out.
And to you then, I was your lifeless figurine,
your sick play-thing, your ragdoll, your real-life puppet.
Then awake some moments later, gasping for air,
the nightmare continued, with hands around my neck,
until I was so asphyxiated - I shook.
As I lost air, I'd break out into a cold sweat,
my vision blurred and hazy, my voice laboured, coarse.
I would lay there confused, dazed, scared, broken, alone.
When I next awoke, oft a necktie held my hands,
and like clockwork, you'd seethe, spit condescending tones,
shout obscenities, lies, curses - unbeguiling.
Whilst your hands again, found themselves glued to my neck,
suffocating me over and over and over and o'er,
whilst all my dreary eyes, through tears, saw was 'father'.
And, as if my father had not yet been depraved,
he'd oft strip me, of all remaining dignity.
Then once his hours accomplished, his anger unleashed,
he'd leave me unconscious, half-naked, on the floor.
He'd wipe his bloody hands clean and feel 'job well done',
and ensure to lock the bolts on that bedroom door.
09.03.2024