Short Trudge Poems
Short Trudge Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Trudge by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Trudge by length and keyword.
my weary trudge along a hundred miles
through rugged roads lead my steps~
to a closed iron gate
Integrity is such a trudge
Its easier to buy a judge
For Trump, Barr none,
Trump's will be done
Americans love a good fudge
As the days trudge along, old wounds heal
Slowly; yet the fresh dew of the pain
On the hearts open field…
Will the pain ever stop? Will it ever wan?
Soldiers, bright-eyed and mud-covered
Trudge through visions of their blood brothers
Minds weary of war
Names inscribed in marble stone
Though the path is rough
A rocky mountain landscape
Trudge through it wisely
You will find in your heart, peace
When at the top, victory
Russell Sivey
Missus Claus had to trudge down to jail,
Once more toting with her Santa's bail;
Seems where people all shop
He let red trousers drop:
He enjoys showing biddies he's male.
In 24
we trudge along
with other trudgers
riding high on the
grace extraordinaire
with the delicacy of love and spirit
wrapped in the most perfect of plans
known only by God.
Faster, my heart beats
as the wicked wind bellows
the fevered cold into my eyes.
I trudge ever slower,
deeper,
into the vast forest that is my home.
Knowing,
that all will feel warmer,
Come Spring.
The lurid moon-
Dim as an eye,
squinting, and
waning unnoticed in
the despair of darkness,
like souls that trudge
through the roadless
vast transit of Sheol.
Guideless wanderers
lost: no spirit, essence,
nor aim.
Fear not! Fear not! Fear not!
As you trudge through alien mud
Trudge! Trudge! Trudge!
Through parts that hush
Scuttle! Scuttle! Like cattle!
By tracks return is a scuffle-
But beware as you rush
That paths may not lead to paths.
One must produce the trail to one’s own fate
Trudge into the future with open eyes ahead
Never allow oneself to cease that constant tread
For the prize at the finish may be infinitely great
One could even discover the polished golden gate
I trek in pace
To the beat of the drum
The tempo now slower
Than when it begun
Each new vista
Stirred a fervor in me
But time took its toll
No more passions to be
Now aged and weary
As I trudge my last track
I’ll wait to go home
When God calls me back
Form:
Towards a setting sun I trudge my weary way
Oblivious of the gathering darkness
Under a sullen and bleeding sky
Chagrined and beside myself with sorrow,
How can heaven stand by and let me languish so?
~Acrostic contest by Sharon Gulley
I no longer face people
My life is framed in a screen
I trudge along from screen to screen
Television, computer and mobile
When was the last time I kissed a face
Or held someone’s hand for a while
Cannot recollect….
Can somebody help before I scream
Each year passing, another one gone
Notice less around me, as I trudge along
Focused on winning, a race that is done
Struggle to keep this facade of a man
Keep doing the best that I can
Is it enough, to just be
or is something fighting to release the inner me.
Poor lil scammer...
Poor little scammer,
ironic the twist,
you trudge into heaven,
yer not on the list,
a con man is conned ,
at the end of the day,
ironic the twist,
and it wont go away,
un-blest little misfit,
not doing ok,
just pist...
Don
Blessed mighty trail
I walk down well beaten path
Following along
Onward I trudge down the road
Through the deep colors alive
I follow footsteps
Of greater minds that have lived
Ones that have spoken
About perfect ways of life
The comforts of the forest
Russell Sivey
When things grace us,
Our faith and resilience soar.
We feel stronger and worry about nothing.
When hit by ill-luck,
Our actions shrink up.
We trudge with faintness and falter.
Things may take divergent paths.
Receive them with the same verve.
Stand sturdily and accept.
The road is long
And the sky is dark
Each step I take
I just trudge on
I now wonder to myself
And I can’t seem find my way home
I knew the way once
It seemed not so long ago
But the wind has blown
And I am so very tired
But I must continue on
And I can’t seem find my way home.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Having cooled down, these life-passions
With them, that bond with Summer
Foot to flame, done in.
Best of whose associations
Childhood's raced, running.
Trudge now. Til with that more harried
Countenance, onto Autumn's
Breast-like leaf-mound slump.
Its winds to my words replied:
"We're of one mind, grump!"
I release and set you free.
I take the guilt to keep.
And as you soar with my memory...
More sweet than bitter, I wish.
I trudge on in life, a lesser self, hauling my deep regret.
That which I passed up in you, the right that proved wrong- I agonize.
If I could do it once more… I’d give my heart for you to take.
A grey area through which we trudge
A thousand arcing shards
Sol, dust on the rift of illumination
A thousand cut-throat shards
Forever lead astray by the light
The boundaries of truth
Oh so tyrannical
Uncontested
.
..
...
Tick, tick
The bell to resound
The fangs to arch in
For a rogue shard could ne'er defy
The ice has boiled over,
sludge trudge paddles its way
through the muddy day.
Willow trees dream in the melt,
we open windows
to watch the damp sky dry.
Child-hearts are lifting,
their small boats
turning to great sailing ships
for the survivors of sadness.
Wave we as the world passes by.
Fly a flag and be.
I trudge there with leaden feet
Carrying invisible burdens
The perfect place to pause and ponder
And water my fear garden
You can keep your stones and daggers
And your thirty pieces
For I am my own Judas
Handing me over to me
Follow me if you like
But there's really nothing to see
Just me
Plowing my potters field
Walk thunderously
Releasing the pain
My life's become
I trudge through the rain
No longer stoic
I won't let you cage
The fury within
Negating my rage
‘Tho trapped my feeling
I refuse to bend
You will not rule me
No longer my friend
Acknowledge the loss
Of promises swept
Taking a breath
I relaxed, then wept