Long Youth Poems
Long Youth Poems. Below are the most popular long Youth by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Youth poems by poem length and keyword.
We need to start out with the truth whether we may be "Old or in our Youth! The truth is the "Light of the World" for men ,women,boys ,babies,and girls! We all need to realize ,and "comprehend something that is of worth to us:and "That is: No matter"How many "Husbands" "A Wife" has :The "Husband"needs to "Comply to wives "Wishes"! We continue to realize that equality is real if we understand that": "STOP"! We understand that "No matter"How many Wives a "Husband has the "Wife" needs to "Comply to the "Husbands wishes"!!!! Non-Compliance is the decree of a "Divorce" of "Husband or Wife and that is the reality! Some "Husband" has many wives,and "Some"Wife" has many Husbands!!!! Compliance is the key to "Husband and Wife"relationships,so that the relationships will "STAY AND NOT CEASE""To Be"!!!! Husband and Wife relationship should continue "TO BE" no matter how many relationships become "HUSBAND AND WIFE":because "HUSBAND AND WIFE"happens "INSTANTLY"......Smitten by the "LOVE IN YOU AND ME"!!! This is Reality! You might fall in "LOVE" instantly? Maybe? It has happened to me! Instantly! Smitten and Bitten: Instantly! When you "Feel" :You will be connected to "Spiritually",and "The Lord God Almighty"who is "Spirit and created "Flesh and Blood",and that which is "Animate and that which is "Inanimate" ,and "I call that :"REALITY" to realize you are you,and I am me! REALITY! You are "My Wife and I am Your Husband",and we both are still "Free"!!!! I am not tied down to you,and you are not tied down to me!!!! I am a good "Husband",and you are a good "Wife",and being "Good to each other is what it means "to bring "Esteen";Being Husband and Wife like it is and like it will always be! Praise "The Lord"....To God Give the Glory. AMEN.
In all times there will be young who die.
There are too many people to list.
Those left behind alway wonder why.
In our great sadness we shake our fist.
It's not fair they are taken away.
There are too many people to list.
With war there's always a price to pay.
We sacrifice our young at that cross.
It's not fair they are taken away.
In the end is it worth all that loss?
Causes written down in history.
We sacrifice our young at that cross.
Winners or losers there's misery.
In the end we must all pay our share.
Causes written down in history.
It's not a matter that we don't care.
in all times there are young who die.
In the end we must all pay our share.
Those left behind always wonder why.
I dedicate this poem to my friend Timothy Hicks.
He has recently lost a close friend to war.
Debbie's Dying Young Contest
Poem written May 14th, 2013
I am the wind drifting the snow,
uncertain of destiny and tomorrow
at any hour I could be gone,
and with much strength hope lives on;
nothing can discourage me
to ward off moments of misery,
the firmer I believe, the longer I survive...
Father of endless mercy, bless me as I thrive!
I am the sea in desperate need of the moon,
when no light shimmers across this dark deep;
let me hear a song of joy, not of sorrow and grief,
the hours seem long, but the sunrise will come soon,
to make me sail away to celebrate life and freedom,
forgetting how long I had been a victim of boredom,
feeling the worthiness inside to behold a splendid sight...
Father of endless mercy, bless me as I thrive!
Old age is blessed with wisdom and white hair,
but many despise it and by hiding in the leper's lair;
youth was glorious and seemed everlasting indeed,
we all wish to get back to recall how young we appeared
in days that time erased too quickly from the visions we dreamed,
and besides happiness and vitality, all dreams were limited
to that certain period forever engraved on perceptual mind...
Father of endless mercy, bless me as I thrive!
There is a mysterious almost eerie beauty to the fog and her tapestry of grey
It’s as if we’ve found ourselves immersed in a painting by Monet.
As the fog begins to blanket us…holding the sun at bay
all the boundaries that divide the world…for a moment…fade away.
All the colors become muted…blend together…co-exist…
perhaps that is the wonder of the fog…the beauty of the mist.
I grew up believing heaven was high above the clouds…where everything was white.
Where there was only love…no pain…no suffering…no bigotry…no spite.
Where all the things that divide us here on Earth when we get to heaven cease…
Where we spend an eternity among the clouds living in kindness, and friendship and peace.
But I wonder if the Gods are trying to show us as the fog they send us is unfurled
If blurred boundaries and muted colors are how we’re meant to see the world.
That, if here on Earth we can make all the things that divide us finally cease,
then we can live a lifetime here… in kindness, and friendship and peace.
Now I think the heaven of my youth can be thought of a different way…
that it doesn’t have to be white or in the clouds…that heaven can be grey.
That the heaven I grew up believing in…doesn’t have to be an epilogue…
That all we have to do is look around…and find our heaven in the fog.
We are all still responsible for how we choose to act.
It comes down to the individual, this my friends, is a fact.
None of us are to blame for the actions of others.
It’s time to step up and quit blaming one another.
The answers that we seek are in each and every heart.
It’s time we show some love and start doing our part.
Our youth in the streets need guidance and some tough love.
They are still our children we must pray for guidance from above.
We cannot erase our past, we must move forward and not look back.
This violence needs to stop, God sees every single attack.
Every part of history, each tear and every scar.
Has brought us to this point and makes us who we are.
We all have seen the hate it’s now shown to us here every day.
Facebook, Twitter and the news will spin it a different way.
Common sense and patience are tools we all must use.
Always count to ten before responding to more fake news.
the class
of summer fifty five
left to ply
their business lives
the office partners just two
pens pencils nearly-new
clerking the lowest
of the low
daily drudgery
reality soon shone thru'
down the cellar
my steps did wend
scuttle filled fires to tend
the 'old man ' yelling
'ere lad chop chop
get me baccy
from t'corner shop
wait-on
tea-break brews'
in a stew
bellow the back-office crew
one more task
to get done
for the partner's son
another errand no time to chat
he'd forgotten the fish
for his wife's cat
then
the switchboard clicked
the doorbell chimed
skills to learn juggle prioritise
which to choose to attend
mail in the tray
still to send
whew!
nearly five knock-off time
in view
just one task still to do
fetch the 'boss's evening news
was this really
the career to choose
I met you on a sunny day
Swinging to the sky
I couldn't find what to say
So I slowly whispered, "Hi!"
Stumbling, fumbling, bumbling idiot
I couldn't get you to come my way
Like a ray of sunlight
You ran about, giggling in play
Soon, I joined the fun
But fear captured my run
I slowed my feet to walk
Carefully crafting my talk
...to impress my friend
I got lost in her beauty
You could find me on her heels
Serving her was my duty
While she bent me to her will
Spinning, winning, pinning donkeys
Dancing to the rhythm of rhyme
Not caring about the games we played
Just that I could have her one more time
Adventures on land or sea
Or fleeing from danger with me
We ran til energy died
And the road between us, arose to divide
...hearts asunder
~I heard the thunder~
...then...came the rain
Life consists of a happy youth
The beginning of a lifelong arc
Then a dear dear family comes next
Life is like a day in the park
Joy and laughter are number one
We just can't believe our luck
Then we notice our first grey hair
And panic begins to erupt
Must be a mistake, it can't be true
I'm right at the top of the curve
Perhaps a grave error has just occurred
Now “grave” that ain't a good word
Still very vibrant and filled with pizzaz
I'm much too young to get old
However I do feel a chill, it just can't be
This body's starting to feel cold
Imagination is running away with me
Still got lotsa gas in the tank
Just hit the ancient age of eighty-three
Guess I've got good genes to thank!
There's an old ashtray in the middle of the room,
half filled with ashes and half filled with gloom.
A reminder of things burning away,
like a mind filled with memories, too many to stay.
It's sitting next to an old photo book,
frozen inside are the smiles that were took.
Pictures of Summer's youth and naive trust,
now sitting still and covered in dust.
There's a chair left empty, the other one used,
by an old man with a heart, lonely and bruised.
There's a church down the street, with a graveyard out back.
A stone with two names, together forever, Rita and Jack.
Now Rita lies waiting for her life's mate,
while Jack sits alone til they carve in his date.
3/20/20
Each weight increase signals defeat
and never fails to leave you blue.
For, when you strive to stay petite
each pound is repulsive to you.
You stare in the mirror of truth
scrutinizing each ounce of fat.
And seeking the girl of your youth
you can’t believe you look like that.
Skipping breakfast, you skimp on lunch,
and might require medical care.
But, you think no one has a hunch,
though your eyes are filled with despair.
Like malnutrition’s telltale trace,
regurgitation cuts no slack.
And you display a furrowed face
taunt skin and a skeletal back.
Mixing denial with deceit,
you cannot find solace in sleep.
For when you're starving yet won't eat,
anorexia’s roots run deep.
(Quatrain)
2/6/2017