Long Worst nightmare Poems
Long Worst nightmare Poems. Below are the most popular long Worst nightmare by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Worst nightmare poems by poem length and keyword.
What thou shalt be wasted?
With the ship of sorrow harboured.
Like it gives thee an unexpected explosion,
And the heart of trauma and darkness is implanted.
It clouds into a season of bloodshed and pain,
But all thy life seems to be bludgeoned.
Tumbled into a canvas of time,
As thou shalt find a euphoric heart abused.
No description of fear was given,
With thy face bashed and muddied.
It shalt not be a publicized cry for help,
Nor shalt it be a dark horse murmured.
As a hard and stone-cold sadness torments thee,
And thy emotional feelings go unnoticed.
Memories would put thee in a chokehold,
And thy mutual senses are blurred.
Thou would find that thy pride is thy worst nightmare,
In thy skull is a slug that is slightly planted.
That, my friend, is a trauma that can drown in thy sorrows,
And it can get thee wasted.
Again, he broke when the gate bell was still clanging,
then took off so fast... to the reins I was left hanging.
He's wearing a goofy smile that says, "I'm so proud,"
but he's forgotten just one thing... for crying out loud!
I have to be in the saddle when crossing the finish line!
That's a concept totally lost on this headstrong equine.
Flashing Ghost has always been as stubborn as a mule
but I keep taking the mount, so that makes me a fool.
Oh yeah, he's determined to always break out on top,
But when he outbreaks me, I can't yell at him, "Stop!"
I would end up crumpled on the track, lying in the grass,
or diving head-first up the crack of this white horse's ass.
Ghost should be retired from racing and used as a stud.
He'd be more valuable, but as a racehorse, he's a dud.
He flies out of the gate but is a jockey's worst nightmare.
I swear, I won't ride him again, even on a double dare!
I've accepted the repercussions,
From my choices to my actions.
Forgiving myself and moving on,
Replaced my pain with satisfaction.
The biggest mistake that I had made,
Was putting all of my trust in you.
Not realizing what a crook you are,
Made my worst nightmare come true.
I made it back from hell with you,
From 3rd ward to your convictions.
We lost everything I never owned,
And gained not 1 but 2 evictions.
I know God kept me safe & sound,
As I wandered in the dark alone,
Without His word & guiding light,
My heart became as hard as stone.
I lived so long with a concrete soul,
Pain replaced my well known smile.
All I wanted was to be happy again,
Even if it was only for a little while.
Drugs induced a temporary happy,
Followed by thoughts of suicide.
Dark dictation arose the question,
Would anyone notice if I had died?
I knew my sons would miss me,
They love their mom so much!
Unknowingly they rescued me,
From that demon's evil clutch!
I picked myself up off the floor,
And flew as fast as I could fly.
To the ones I held responsible,
The two reasons I did not die!
I've accepted the repercussions,
From my choices to my actions.
Forgiving myself and moving on,
Replaced my pain with satisfaction.
When in that moment in my life
I did not believe it was actually happening to me
That just couldn't be
The longer I sat in that bed
I soon realized I was not dreaming
Nor living in a false reality
This was
MY
Reality
And I was living my worst nightmare
I can picture everything that went down that night
Like it was playing out infront of me
Almost like seeing a movie you've seen 100 times
And even so each time you watch it
Something new
Shows it self
Each time you re-watch it
I remember thinking that these people must really hate their job right now
I remember them taking everything out of the room before I came in
I remember them telling me I need to calm down
I remember them drawing my blood
Each tear a raindrop, torn apart
I remember being so tired I couldn't sleep
I remember feeling like a failure
I remember being so mad at myself
I remember being there for what feels like forever
In the leading up weeks nothing mattered to me
Like a broken mirror, unable to be fixed piece by piece, reflecting nothing more than who I truly was
Like a candle burning itself out, smothered by its our flame, In desperate need to extinguish the pain
Like a fading photo, losing all color, clarity, slipping into oblivion
But of course
That was't the worst part
That was't even the start.
He sits in the attic all day, trimming his fur
A creature without a name or a country
Climbs into my closet an hour before bedtime
I sense him, but cannot see him
For he can be invisible when he wants to be
I sense he has fangs, and claws
He wants to hurt me
Of this I am sure
I am terrified, for his presence is suspected
At first I think he is under the bed
My mother looks and assures me he is not
I know something is there though
Something evil that will grab my foot
I cannot fall asleep, for I am terrified
My heart beats triple time
I hear a snarl and I scream
Something under my bed laughs
The closet door opens.
It is my worst nightmare
Coming to life
My heart was racing so fast
afterall it was the last hour
before the big event would start
for which I had patiently worked hard...
With a faint ray of hope I had begun,
with ups and downs I had travelled through
continuously for days and hours
and made a memorable journey in the past!
Then came the most crucial phase
I was called to come forth on the stage
Nobody knew what I had created in silence
Execution was the basis of its disclosure
The moment of truth had now arrived
My heart started pounding a million times
I could feel the pulsation under my fingertips
I was under the grasp of nervousness and anxiety
"Something big can happen within moments
A stunning performance or my worst nightmare"
I took a deep breath and remembered
the people who had made great efforts
more than me to yield the best results
they had encouraged me even in their worst
It was on me to do them right justice
I had to push myself to a peak performance
In no time, I gained immense energy
With a big smile, I presented my creation
It got me a great feedback from the audience
The result was satisfactory at the end
The first stage act of my life
wasn't the best of all times
But it had given confidence that could determine
my true potential when it's high time....
© Black_Beauty
I TRULY COME FROM “ A RARE BREED “
I am a woman who can follow, but I normally choose to lead.
For I am a phenomenal woman, Yesss indeed, I am a Rare Breed.
I wear many Hats and can be whatever it is you want or need me to be.
Never invisible, deliberate in all I do, in the open for all eyes to see!
I can be your Greatest Lover, or we can be the best-est of friends.
But screw me over and I can be your worst nightmare till the bitter end.
I am a woman that can encourage you and sweep you off your feet. But I can also be that woman that will cut you while you sleep.
I am that Diva with a smile, women seem to envy, while others just plain hate. Cause I can get “Turn-t Up”, have fun, and still be the lady who leaves with your Date!
I'm that soothing voice you hear when you come home after a long day all stressed.
With a hot bath, ready to rub you down, curl your toes, roll you over and let you rest.
If you get sick? I’ll nurse you back to health with some nice old fashion Chicken Soup. Serve ya Tea with honey, Rub Vicks on your chest, and handle the house all while you Re-coup.
I have no problem allowing a Man to be a Man, but this “All Men” must 1st Understand… A needy woman I am Not! I just desire the comforts of a Real Man. A man with a TRUE LIFE PLAN.
At times you’ll hear me Cussin, Fussin, R e a d i n g Folk and even throwing Fits.
Yet I still handle my Bizz! …. Cuzz Baby??? I am A L L L that and Bowl of GRITS!
But the rest of the times, I’m Calm, Patient and generally very Sweet. Always Grateful for God and Family, cause with them I know I Can’t be Beat!
My ideas are in hiding
Afraid of the secret police
For they are in Kansas City
My poems are not wanting to goosestep
I hear glass breaking
It does not wake me up at first
But when it does I am in Minneapolis
And my poem is standing on a man’s neck
I am screaming for it to get off
He is yelling that he cannot breathe.
Terror infiltrates me as I realize I am paralyzed.
I can hear my heartbeat; double-time now.
My ideas are in a fetal position, lying under benches.
Visualizing concentration camps
Oh, excuse ME! Internment camps.
Mexican children being torn from their mother’s arms.
Crying and wailing. Cages. Dirty rotten government men.
My poems are turning themselves into stories.
I am no help. I am paralyzed. Cannot stop the thoughts though.
Swastikas are swirling around which is not comfortable.
Now the Klan! Are you kidding?
I am being marched out by chicken shi.....white hooders.
My writing is holding its breath, lying in wait
Thinking I will return. I may never be the same.
This new development has me buckling at my knees.
Someone cracks me across them with a whip.
Someone speaks Russian at me.
Craph! I barely know English.
That’s a good one my muse says, making a note.
I try to wake up, but there is someone sitting on my neck.
I cannot breathe.
I struggle,
I scream
Nothing comes out.
My worst nightmare, and of course it is three a.m.
The time I always have to go to the bathroom.
Something big is sitting on my neck and my head.
I give up, not caring about anything except breathing now.
It’s the Covid 19, my muse says. We are obsessed with it
I am so irritated, for it might not be my muse.
It might be another personality; I have plenty of them.
I sit quietly, waiting for the urge to write to pass.
Unfortunately, it never does.
I am cunning and smart, deception and lying are my game. I will be your best friend, or your worst nightmare. I first got noticed when I appeared with Eve, we were best of friends may years ago. My slick tongue Eve listened to, now mankind is paying the price. I come in many pretty colors, some with a real deadly bite. I like to sway to a song, play it sweetly as I dance along. Many like to hunt us, a delicious meal we can be.
Have you figured out little lovable me,
deception~lying~delicious~a snake for all to see.
Date Written: 12/31/2021
The trolls were smug because the bug they caught was Cheeky.
King of the cockroaches, and exceedingly sneaky.
They trussed him up and had a celebration parade.
Marched him through Troll-ville and sold Lemonade.
Before they reached the end, a child let out a scream.
Cheeky’s chair was empty, a Parade-Meister’s worst dream!
Cheeky was missing, gone, kaput, and no one knew where that day
Except for four of us, as we had helped him sneak away.
All was well by morning as the town had caught Loopy, a lightening bug.
We did not help this one get away, as we knew he was quite the thug.