Long Wish Poems
Long Wish Poems. Below are the most popular long Wish by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wish poems by poem length and keyword.
"Color me red" this he did say
This is Satan and you must obey
The call of the wild for is it ok?
Who cares as I destroy the day
The red you color is from your vein
The ink that spilled from ever shame
You raped a child in the name of me
You will now suffer ever in eternity
I feel the words escape from your dying breath, "Please Lord dont take it out with
a noose around my neck"
For if you kill me you kill your religion, I promise you, if this noose falls through
the gallow then I will trek
I will find your kind in the after life, even if it down in the basement with your wife, I
will come and get you
You're the one who told me so, created my mind to enlist your blow, is this a
reason you are telling me?
That I must not fight but run away in flee? I'm a coward like you, you see, I die for I
believe in your creed
"My son you are not one of mine
I enlist your soul to preach my kind
You create your own from words of mine
Now rot in hell for the breach of time
And conjur a smell to remember your lie
Befriend your mind as you are left to die
Alone as you wish for your wish is a cry
You are no longer a part of my embassy
Trade your wings for the treatory that be
For a mask supposed to look like me
Horns for you stab at your constant envy
Dont you ever compare you with thee
For are weak and f&ck all that you percieve
Form:
The worlds Ugliest Poem
Think chaos will become the new norm
in this world where life and words are cheap
think there'll be bodies littering the streets
and blood rolling into the gutters
from people killing their neighbors
just to get a little something to eat
and a place to lay their heads at night to sleep
think their'll be rioting all around
scorched earth the only ground
will we cry out unto God
or will we simply blame him
I wonder what things will be like
for the innocent little children
Oh how I wish we could stop right now
before anything like this happens
and it happens
yeah, it happens
mostly in war torn nations
and those that are so very poor
and what makes any of us think that we are better than them
think our nation is not filled to the brim
it could happen
yeah, it'll probably happen
because we don't know how to live
and our ministers preach personal salvation
how can we inherit the kingdom of heaven
if we forsake our own nation
or are we forsaken
by the leaders that we trust
are they are part of us
or have they become so rich and full of pride
that it's time to knock them down to size
before this happens
because it happens
Oh my God have mercy
for I fear this time there'll be no place to hide
here I sit writing and typing
it's all I can do all balled up inside
filled with fear and anxiety
and I type and type and I type
striving to warm them and explain to them why
yet it seems all of my words are in vain
it's as if
my work is little more than a strange curiosity
and sometimes I wonder if it's me or the world that's insane
they prefer lies so nice
I guess it makes them feel like everything is OK
don't lift the Vail or just might see me
and who wants to believe that their'll be hell to pay
for all the children starving in the streets
that have no place to stay
all dirty and full of disease
how can we turn them away
and some of these are angels
think they can hear you pray
at night before you go to sleep
without worry or pain
it happens
yeah, it happens
and it could happen to you
think your life is fool proof
I wonder if chaos will be the new norm
I wonder if it already is
at least to some extent
cancer is on the rise
and how can we possibly fix this
maybe I just worry to much
maybe I should just turn on the TV
and watch something fun
while it happens
yeah, while it happens
Form:
You're nothing
You're a disgrace
You've been dishonored
You've been unmasked
For the villain
That you are.
You know not
What true love is
You know not
The meaning of family.
All you know is yourself
Self-centered and egotistic
Who deserves the spotlight
Shine upon him
Thinking the world
Revolves just for you.
I hate to burst your bubble
Of your twisted perfect reality
But the world revolves around nobody
Not even for a scumbag like you.
The spotlight shines upon all
It doesn't play favorites
Your not the star of the show
Your just a stage hand playing pretrend.
You talk amongst your blood
But don't praise your offspring
You dont' spare time
To fix what is broken
You let it all go to ruin.
Your heinous crimes
Can never be forgiven
The lies you spout
Tried to warp my mind
But no more lies
I'm through with you.
You put yourself before others
You think highly of yourself
You care not for emotions
Not know what they are
Your like a robot
Without an empathy chip.
You've hurt many people
Your road is crumbling
Burning bridges behind you
Poisoning the family tree
With your sickening presence.
No more, I say!
I take the axe of change
Chopping the rot
Right off the tree
Drench it with fresh rain
To bring it back to life.
You're a waste of space
You're a disgrace to the family
You're a disappointment
You're a lazy bum
You have no respect
You have no morals.
I shout from the depths of my soul
I shout for the world to know
The courageous roar of a dragon
Planting her feet deep in the dirt
To announce her right to say
"YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME!"
Be gone, foul demon!
Return to hell from which you came
Away you go from my sight
I wish to never see your face again!
You're a burden
You're a parasite
You're a moocher
You're a sloth
You're a liar!
Ye who dare to bring our family shame
Try to bring ruin to our name
I cast you out of my life!
Your no longer my father
The father I knew
Died a long time ago!
Replaced by a lout
Replaced by a bum
Replaced by an imposter
Replaced by a Jackass!
You mean nothing to me!
You're an embarassment
You're not my father
I've lost all respect for you!
Away with you now
Get the hell out of here
I don't wish to see you
I don't want you in my life
You mean nothing to me
YOU ARE NOTHING!
Now the public library in our town contains the knowledge for mankind,
and there’s not much happening ‘round the world, that I cannot find.
I can think of any subject that I like and tell Jenny what I’m after,
and she can find a stack of books that darn near touch the rafter.
The library’s helped me countless times from days when I’m at school,
and I’ve become a handy man with books my back up tool,
but aside from books on lifestyle needs, on fiction some are geared,
and some authors write for little kids, and some write on the weird.
I’ve hired books about our history and read about some shocking wars.
Our garden is designed from books, and I’m obsessed with reading ‘Jaws’.
But crime became my new desire with cases filed from years gone by,
where Capital Punishment was handed down and why some had to die.
Description of the victims sent a chill right through my bones,
right to the guilty on death row with all their over-tones.
I read about their last few weeks, with how and why and where,
before they took their final walk to the electric chair.
One story written by a Warder based in a Southern US gaol,
is penned about a chilling case that for you I will unveil …
Leroy murdered seven folk; the warder wrote down in this book.
For twenty years appeals were held then Leroy’s goose was cooked.
When you’re with someone for twenty years, no matter what they’ve done,
you can form a slight attachment even if a fragile one.
So one week before that final stroll Leroy was asked by Warder Black,
if there’s something special that he’d like, and Leroy answered back.
“There is something I do desire - but it must involve me faithful wife.
“My wish is” Leroy grinned. “Is to eat her meatloaf now for life”.
Well Leroy’s wish was granted and for three meals every day,
he ate the meatloaf that he begged for while the hours ticked away.
On the eve of Leroy’s execution there was tension being shown.
The corridors were creepy now with a ghostly eerie tone.
Forgotten were the seven victims - in the morning there’s one more.
Leroy must face ‘old sparky’ waiting down that corridor.
His final meal of meatloaf was brought before him on a plate.
Said Warder Black with teary eyes “You don’t look worried mate!”
Leroy laughed “I’m not my friend, that chair won’t kill me man.
If this meatloaf couldn’t do me in - I know that nothing can!”
We always eulogize a child on his birth
We also eulogize a person on his death
On both occasions he is unable to appreciate the praise
At birth he is unable to understand the words
At death his ears are unresponsive to the sound
Why do we always say good things on these occasions?
Must we confine our eulogy only to these occasions?
A child doesn’t understand our words at the time of his birth
So it doesn’t matter whatever our words may sound
The logic isn’t the same for a person on his death
We have an innate fear that his spirit is hearing our words
We wish to impress the spirit by using words of praise
Why should we impress the spirit with words of praise?
There is a belief that the spirit will leave after such occasions
Some believe that the spirits are not influenced by words
Our fate after death depends on all our deeds after birth
All good deeds will be rewarded by the Creator after death
Fate is not decided on words irrespective of how it may sound
It is impossible to infer true feelings from how the words sound
We often pretend to please others by telling words of praise
These pretensions are useless when hearing ability ceases on death
But may be fruitful when spoken to others on different occasions
It is ineffective when the sense of hearing is undeveloped at birth
The generation of feelings depends upon how we express the words
Human relations depend on how we express our feelings in words.
Expressions, conveying different feelings, are said in a varying sound
The effectiveness is lost when conveyed to a child at birth
Damaged human relations can be repaired through words of praise
The appropriate expressions must be chosen to suit the occasion
Feelings and expressions must amalgamate in the occasion of death
One of the most solemn occasions in life is that of death
While expressing feelings we carefully select the words
The choice of words matches the vibes of the occasions
The speeches are characterized by a particular sound
On such occasions we forget our true feelings and praise
Ebullient feelings are aroused on the occasion of birth
The strength of a relationship is expressed by the identity of the sound
The effectiveness of the expressions rest on the choice of words
Alas! The only expressions a child has are cries at birth
Listen to the rain. It sings. It whispers.
Listen to the rain. It heals. It covers.
I lay in the grass. Thinking. Wondering. The rain falling, splashing on my cold pail skin. Splashing on my hair. Dancing on my dress.
It's falling all around me. Covering me. Protecting me. My body. My heart. My soul.
Healing the wounds. Covering the scars.
I close my eyes and feel it's cold touch. Drop by drop. Sinking in my skin.
I listen to it fall. I listen to it whisper. I listen to it sing. I listen to the wind. Blowing screeching. Screaming. Pounding the rain against my body. Against the grass. I lesten to the thunder roll. Roar. Growl. I listen to the lightning crack and slash the dark sky.
I'm thinking. Wondering. Hoping. Hurting.
I'm thinking about you. Wondering about you. Hoping for you. Hurting for you.
I miss you. I need you.
The pain is unbarable. I can't stand to be away from ou. I can't stand not feeling your touch. I can't stand not hearing yur voice.
So I lay in the grass. I listen to the rain sing. I listen to it whisper.
I let it heal me. I let it cover me. I let it cover the scars.
I listen to the rain. It hides my tears. Washes them away. The wind carries waya my worries. My doubts. The thunder hides my cries. My sobs.
But the lightning brings you. Brings images of you. Brings memories of you.
I can't help but smile. I hold you dream catcher and tags tight against my chest. I hold our picture.
Another crash, another stike. I get you for one more night.
The sky gets darker and darker. More and more memories of you flash through my mind.
The rain grows harder, the lightning grows longer.
In the grass I lay, smiling, soaked. Clutching our picture. Clutching your tags. Clutching your dream catcher. The last memories with you.
I will meet you again. I will see you again. I will be in you arms again.
We will make it.
The wind dies down and the rain slows. The thunderstops, so does the lightning show. My show of you is over.
Sad once again I lay in the grass. Listening to the rain sing. Listen to the rain whisper.
I look at our picture. A tear escapes my eye.
I miss you. I wish I could be in our arms again. I wish you could hold me. I miss being with you. I miss hearing you.
Another tear added to my growing fear. My growing saddness.
Another tear for you. I miss you. I need you.
I behold the rose in bloom, and I cry,
I weep and I wail, then I sigh.
As the night draws in, my painful thoughts begin to wake,
I retreat into my mind and with fear I do shake.
Your clammy hand on my neck, your touch just like lead,
I close my eyes so you will go, you bury further in my bed.
I know I’m worthless, but please do not hurt,
And I try not to scream as you begin to insert.
The deed almost done, your sneer of disgust,
Your toes curl as we prepare for the final thrust.
You roar with delight, I exhale with relief,
My virginity now taken by a wretched old thief.
The memory still haunts, and the damage goes on,
I unravel the silk cloth that my knife lays upon.
Slowly but surely destruction is on its way,
I fear for my soul, but my body must pay.
Anticipation takes hold, and the blade does its work,
I press firmly down, blood appears with a jerk.
Is this the pleasure I've longed to have?
And a voice deep within screams "YES! ONE MORE JAB".
I am so frail, my young flesh so weak,
I can not go on, for my virginity he did seek.
The cold steel blade tattoos my white maiden flesh,
And the untouched skin becomes like wheat for the thresh.
I must abate, I must restrain,
This is the only way I mask the pain.
My eyes glaze over, my body feels weightless,
Each stroke is a prayer, and every cut a caress.
The guests have arrived, my relief has been fleeting,
He stands there staring, my heart is beating.
He looks at me inquisitively, mouth gaping,
And my mother knows not that her brother likes raping.
His gaze upon me, I'm his gift to unwrap,
He would rip me open and toss me like scrap.
I wish he would vanish and leave me in peace,
But his lust won’t be sated, and on me he would feast.
My legs are so withered, and my wheelchair’s a cage,
I wish that man in the Skoda didn’t have road rage.
I guess I should be grateful I can’t feel a thing,
But my mind is alive and every inch of him stings.
He gives me a present and pretends to be nice,
But don’t be fooled, it comes at a price.
He wheels me outside for a fresh of breath air,
When no one is watching he sniffs at my hair.
I wish I could lash out with my thin spastic legs,
But they are as useful as ice-cube clothes pegs.
I hope my diary doesn’t land in the wrong hands,
And if you’re reading this now then I’ve suck-cummed to his plans.
- Anonce
IRONY
My joy that I wasn't born a Nigerian
Is that my parents are Yorubas
I would have been limited to Naira
Mo dúpé pé mo lókó nílé (All thanks, I have a hoe)
Mo láyò pé omo alápatà sá lèmi(I rejoice, I am the butcher's offspring)
Nigerians should say alhamduliLhai
That our legislators are not as corrupt as our president
The country would have met with a great recession
E wá womo alápatà bó ti n jàsán (behold, a butcher's meal begging for a piece of meat)
Eni tó lókó nílé tó tún fowó ó kómí kiri(and a shovel merchant handpicking wastes)
Nigeria is blessed
With green pastures
And various rich liquids
Láyé Olúgbón, mo dá borùn méje(in the reign of Olugbon I owned seven different brocades)
Láyé Arèsà, mo dá borùn méfà (in the reign of Areas I owned six different brocades)
Nigerians are blessed
With great leaders
And various 'politricks'
Láyé Olósèlú mo ra àrán, mo ra sányán baba aso( in the reign of politicians, I owned linen and silk)
Ení pé ilè yìí o dùn ení kó wá bòmíràn lo(who dare thus pasture is not green should please make an exit)
The rich no longer cry
They are the beneficiaries
Of the poorman's labour
Sisésisé wà lóòrùn tó n làágùn (the labourer are dripping with sweat)
Jeséjesé wà làbétè tó n jè 'gbádùn(the beneficiaries enjoy the clubs)
Oh God of creation
Guide our leaders right
Perhaps, to spend our labour well
Bámúbámú mo yo x2(My hunger is satisfied to the fullest)
Èmi ò mò pébi n pomo enì kankan(I doubt if there is any languishing in hunger)
...
Whenever I see a Nigerian
I see along the irony of a country
Where hunger is an offspring of plenty
Nìnú òpò ará ìlú n jòwón(despite the riches, inflation is at its peak)
Nínú oyé, èése táráyé tún n sunkún oru?( and though its winter, the masses sweat is still profuse)
I hope to change the condition
I wish I could turn this irony around
And make a great change of situations
Sùgbón níbo laó ti bèèrè?(But where hence do we start?)
Tani ká kókó gbá lówó mún gan an?(who should be our first suspect?)
Sájépo lájà ni àbí eni tó báa gbà á sílè? (The looters or their abets?)
Where from should one start
Rewriting the story of this country?
Àbí e ò rórò bí? (Can you see?)
Òrò n bá rò ma ròfó, èfó n bá rò ma mún jèko (that this issue begets another)
Irony nlá leyii je, it is a big kàyééfì (this is a big kayeefi, irony nla leyii je)
My son had come back home to stay for just a little while.
He brought with him his terrier friend; a lively, puppy child.
The skinny, little half grown dog came bounding through my door.
I couldn’t realize at the time, all he’d become . . and more.
For sure he tipped the apple cart when first he entered in.
His lively spirit made me think, I’d not know peace again.
The walks with my old terrier dog were all that I could want.
Soon slow and steady, calm, serene, became a grueling jaunt.
Old dog sniffed each bush and tree, as young dog plunged ahead.
While I was pulled this way and that and mostly seeing red.
And God forbid another dog come ambling on our way;
My stress filled walk would soon become, an all out frenzied fray.
He plagued the cats, barked at the door: he loved to sit and howl.
While I just tore my hair out: yet I found that all this while;
He simply grew to grow on me despite his naughty ways.
And as the time began to pass we had some better days.
While in his quiet moments; he just loved my generous lap.
Liked to have his belly rubbed: lay with me for a nap.
He liked to give wet kisses, till I had to tell him, “No."
Loved the car: turned inside out, whenever I said “Go”.
My son moved on, as sons will do, endeavoring to be free.
And by this time we both agreed; young dog should stay with me.
And when old dog forsook my side, because God said he must;
I found the young dog next to me gave all his love and trust.
He stayed beside me night and day and never asked to leave.
He seemed to sense I needed him, along with time to grieve.
I then began to understand what a nice dog lived with me,
For in the old dog’s shadow; he’d become all he could be!
But fate became unkind to us and time was not his friend.
The young dog only stayed awhile, then moved on once again.
And this time I was all alone, with no friend by my side.
My days were filled with missing him, while nights I'd lay and cry.
I know they are together now, in a place God made for them:
These happy creatures sent to earth to be my loyal friends.
I know their spirits run and play; nevermore will they know pain.
Because of this, despite my grief; I’d not wish them back again.
But I’ll remember each of them, through all my days that pass.
It's really hard for me to say, whose loved first and whose loved last?
© 2015 Diane Lefebvre
I know I have a special purpose for my life,
I'm just struggling to answer
One question, what's my calling?
I don't know.
God I'm struggling I don't know what to do
What is it that I want to do?
I thought I knew at one point, but that plan didn't go
Like driving in a car but the air won't flow.
I know I'm your beloved son
And in me is whom you are well pleased
But sometimes I feel lost
Without a guide to point me down the right path.
Help me to see who it is I'm called be,
Who am I supposed to lead?
I don't have any answers
I pray you speak to me.
Help me hear what it is you want from me
As I begin to cry, I wish I could wipe my eyes
But tears still continue to fall from my eyes.
No matter how much I try my cheeks will never be dry
God I don't what am I supposed to do?
Pray and wait for you
I remember a few weeks back, my friend sent me a text
Saying she supports and believes in my dreams,
My parents said the same thing
So I know I'm loved and supported
By love from up above
Open my ear God I need to hear from you
What it is that I'm called to do?
Show others the light of Christ
How can I do that, when I don't even know your calling for my life?
I feel like I'm letting everyone down
I have no answers.
I want to make an impact but can't reenact my old plan
I accept that I need help, God reveal your plan.
I put my life in your hands
Please show me your perfect plan
And I will be the best me that I can
I give you full control,
Help me get my life under control.
I know I'll find my place you always make a way
No matter what path I take you will make everything okay
I have chosen to follow only in your ways
And read your word for the rest of my days.
I'm not in this on my own there's no way,
I can't make it traveling my own way
I need help, I need advice.
I know you'll never leave my side
No need for me to duck and hide.
You're glued to me, more like me to you
After all, everything I will ever need is found in you.
My old nature has been tossed out,
I'm a new man with a new plan
Reequipped and reset
Now I'm ready for the next step.
Get a vision, create a path,
Time for me to get my life back on track.
I know I have a special calling on my life
To share the light of Jesus Christ
What's your calling for my life?
I don't know what's my calling?