Short Accounted Poems
Short Accounted Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Accounted by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Accounted by length and keyword.
crumbs tossed into pond
mallard ducks glide toward me ~
all accounted for
Date written: 01/16/2021
A man with propellorized hat
Stepped up with his beanie to bat.
The fastball blew by,
Away he did fly,
He hadn’t accounted for that.
commitments wavered
changed over time
promises not kept
guarantees not fulfilled
accounted for the breach
in the emotional contract
Sins and merits are accounted then and there on very shoulder desks by two angels.Soon after a sin go for a merit,God Pardoned all felt and regret the sins by heart!
dry, crisp leaf falls, gets blown far away,
fresh, green shoot sprouts, brightens up the day,
lose some,
add some,
all accounted for, that's Nature's way !
Being that a mere man; tis hard for myself to fathom
The taking of yet another's innocent life ? Dark this glass
Afore one's eyes; where both their wicked as good, coexist
Knowing we are not our own but Another's and whom can say....
Mother your wrong his stars formed the earth her sea bear it's night.
Form:
God, you gave
A dog to me,
And when she died—
(My best of friends)
Who, all Selfless, cared for me—
Who Lov-ed
Unconditionally,
I screamed.
O God! You gave
A dog to me.
I deserved no such good thing!
And when she died
I howled, I wept
inconsolably.
For Suzi Q Oct 19, 2009
She had a soul. Where she is,
I hope to be accounted good enough to go.
Committing myself to action;
I stopped to put all plans away.
Determined to author my Life's book pages,
I began the business of today.
I did away with past and future:
Losses made and profits gained;
That to lose and this to gain.
With the past already accounted for,
And future yet to be taken account of;
It's a waste for me to keep their books -
My business is today
Committing myself to action;
I stopped to put all plans away.
Determined to author my Life's book pages,
I began the business of today.
I did away with past and future:
Losses made and profits gained;
That to lose and this to gain.
With the past already accounted for,
And future yet to be taken account of;
It's a waste for me to keep their books -
My business is today
Haven't written anything in a while
Starting to think common sense isn't so
Common
Anymore
Like one plus one equals two, but an equation is needed to figure it out
And I'm not too good at those
I thought me plus you meant us
But I never accounted for our hearts
Nor our minds
Now one plus one does not equal two...it equals eleven
But in some far away universe
It equals us
Time for recompense has come and gone,
lightly kissing your pale cheek.
Fingers twist in agony like strength,
pacing back and forth.
A shadow crosses the doorway atop the steps;
images are lost upon a weary soul.
Silhouettes lead to dream-like trances
where your thought-stream reaches out to me.
Unwind those fingers, twist them with mine.
Hold me accountable for all the ways you love me,
and I will bind you to me as well.
be careful what you wish for
it might just come true
how can a wish be real
only GOD knows for real
every idle word someone
says we are accounted for
throughout our lives thats
what the Bible says i think a
wish is only upon God's
truth can it come true
reality of life's wishes
can only bring forth what
you ask for upon one truce
of authority is christ almighty
one wish of eternity two choices
to live by its your life choose wisely
"Through Windows Abstract Ad Infinitum"
Ascending plural through the Sun
becomes One
Seen through different windows
Seams sewn in souls strung like pearls cast out into the world
Everyone is written into The Story, all accounted for, not gone unsung
Sun through the plural Ascending
One becomes
Windows different, though seen
(Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018)
I used to imagine that the body
was a sort of fleshy gospel, bound together
by mind and ligaments.
Years of smutch, and oily reduction,
daily, a thin scum to be skimmed -
a process of dross elimination,
but each year there is a teaspoonful of loss
that cannot be explained, made up or accounted for,
more a lessoning and not an alchemy.
If this kind of culinary reduction
keeps losing the fat of me
I will be as nothing,
and maybe that’s the point.
Sometimes the last to know
a heart is its owner; needing
a fresh ear to listen, to nestle,
embrace and navigate—
I think, before the end, every
beat should be accounted for:
the lost and not found, the
never searched weighing heavily
on a aging spirit—at the least,
one should know, thoroughly,
where they have been before
taking on any new journey.
But this is not a perfect world...nor,
somewhat sadly I must admit,
will I ever write the perfect poem
and story….