Our aches and pains an endless drain
Life a war ‘gainst stress and strain
Seeing us so pitiful, friends condescend
Our response defensive, we miscomprehend
For they just don’t know what to do
facing a stranger they now misconstrue
It’s not that they are all that deep
or hard to misconstrue,
so I’m just going to take a leap:
you haven’t any clue.
Each day I stand before the glass,
A meeting where truths unmask.
She waits for me with patient eyes,
Reflecting what I oft despise.
She shows me depths I never knew,
What I’ve ignored, what I misconstrue.
Her silent empathy, her tender care,
She cries for me, always there.
“It is okay, mate,” her whispers say,
Guiding me through shadows grey.
At times I hate, at times I adore,
This bond, a struggle, a rapport.
Unique she is, the soul I see,
No one knows her better than me.
Through love, through tears, she molds my core,
My compass in life, forevermore.
Sometimes you get stretched in two
And, though you do what you must do,
You know there might be someone who
You’ve made a bit depressed.
Your reasons might be clear to you
But possible to misconstrue,
For everybody’s point of view
Won’t always be expressed.
And even if you had a clue
And agonized and thought it through,
You had to go with what you knew
Would pass the right-thing test.
So afterwards, a quick review
Might all your worried thoughts subdue,
For other chances will debut
To put your mind at rest.
Quote By Author: A true soul mate is a mirror that won't change its point of view.
Love is a mirror reflecting true you,
one look and you can't misconstrue.
Sometimes my poetry flows like honey
and sometimes it's been misunderstood.
That's when I tend to find it seriously funny
that some take it personally, as if they should.
That's the way a narcissist's mind thinks.
They see themselves involved in everything...
The center of attention. The one getting winks
in every line of poetry or songs people sing.
It's always the guilty who reason that way,
giving themselves credit where none is due.
It's seriously funny and by the end of the day,
buried in their mind is what they misconstrue.
*for Mark Toney's Challenge
What do you see when you look in the mirror?
Do you see the beauty that you hold?
Or maybe of your soul?
Do you see your beauty?
What do you see when you look in the mirror?
Do you see the invisible scars?
The ones that cut so deep they sting with a slicing sensation that is scary?
Do you see your pain?
What do you see when you look in the mirror?
Do you see your flaws on display?
Open to the world, never really hidden away?
Do you see your flaws?
What do you see when you look in the mirror?
Do you see your insecurities burning holes in the rest
Of the pants that no longer fit over the growing pit in your chest?
Do you see your insecurities?
I really do wanna know what you see…
Do you see the true you?
Or the one in your head you often misconstrue?
Do you see what I see?
I see beauty bursting at the seams
Teeming with what is happy to be relieved
Of the chains holding back “taking one for the team”
I scream so you hear me hoping to be retrieved
You’re amazing!
I hope now you see
Stressed I am a mess
I have what you call the puppy blues.
It's not the flu and please do not misconstrue
How I feel and how I act is not up to you.
Having a new puppy makes me somewhat grumpy
Not following my commands; how bland
He is like a ticking time bomb that is slow to react!
How about that! Now, I think I should have gotten a cat.
No, not any regular cat, but a big fat black cat like Dr. Seuss!
Remember me when I'm not here
My love is always yours
Forever I am near
The power of my love for you
My love is always yours
Is hard to misconstrue
Unmitigated love so sheer
My love is always yours
Remained connection clear
Remember me when I'm not here
My love is always yours
Unmitigated love so sheer
Fact, real, and yes, al/l - so true,
can it turn, be like, misconstrue,
maybe like this, one, three, two,
be some topic of points of view,
a dream or goal still comes true,
affair's subjective of who's who.
As we did the month preceding
This the next department meeting
Time and time without a reason
To be present or to listen
For there’s nothing on the floor
Beneath us different than before
It was the last time that we met
As everybody knows and yet
Again we sit around the table
Top our seats but still unable
To understand why we should read
Another memo from the Dean
Of students who have never met ‘em
Or her or maybe better, them
For whom the Chair is working under
Standing in the room, we wonder
How’d it ever get to this
Friday morning’s foolishness
Of faculty who should know better
Than to debate what doesn’t matter
That they’ll only misconstrue
The points they’re missing when they do
Interrupt each other speaking
Words better spent in classrooms teaching
Nobody is more dangerous than he who imagines himself pure in heart, for his purity, by definition, is unassailable. ~Author James Baldwin
Humans drown themselves in ego by thinking they're worth
the honorable title, "I am among the innocent upon earth."
There has been no human born since Jesus, of pure divinity
His life was never sullied, nor blemished by corruptibility
Angels sang of His innocence, chaste and immaculate virtue
for men of all nations give way to temptations. This is true
We are flawed with faults. Underserving the seat on a throne
To claim we have untainted rectitude, I could never condone
Unassailable purity is not a phrase any human can live up to.
If one thinks he has irreproachable decency, don't misconstrue
such a self-centered thought as one of the meek and humble
The pure of heart has impeccable integrity and will not stumble
One who believes he's great is one I would chide and berate
for that one hungers for power and glory that he will never sate
Insidious, the hypocrite who claims innocence. He will find grief
in assuming he is sacrosanct, for that would be a profane belief
Do you like me, or are you just kind?
Do I misconstrue
Your affectionate words,
Your gestures of a sweet nature,
As symbols of adoration?
Am I am idiot sapphic?
So unaware of flirtatious musigs
And romantic advances
That all opportunities for love pass me by?
I used to fear the gaze of other women.
Fear of judgement, of disgust, of pity,
By women inherently more perfect than me
In my eyes.
Now I long for it.
Craving the pure intimacy
Of feeling as though someone is watching
With cartoonish heart-eyes.
Do you like me, or am I an idiot sapphic,
Desperate to love and be loved,
Yet so unsure what is romance
And what is kindness?
If I write a love poem for you
You'd have nothing but words if my lines were untrue
Judge me not by the words my mouth and pen spew
Rather by the actions I choose
I will do the same for you
And if we are both tried and true
Our love we'll never misconstrue
If all the world could see inside
What wrinkled covers have denied
The storied life of one’s caress
For life and love and happiness
The inner glow remains intact
It’s just the outside that’s been cracked
If only they would realize
The key is in the ageless eyes
if not the world but one or three
Who’d care to see what’s really me
And not a ghost of supple skin
Not just the wrapping I am in
Why must they underestimate
Or misconstrue or underrate
The value of an older work
Dismissing with a scornful smirk
Ironic as each page is turned
In every life as we have learned
The same place we shall all arrive
So grateful just to be alive
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.