Wasted Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

wasted dreams in a night bar

Staring, dreaming, agonizing over every detail
Why do your smiles fill my heart full of running ale

Which shade of red will cover
Your waist and shoulders tonight

I’ll order a pair of cocktails
And put my mind on sale

To make a deal with god 
Or an offer down below 

I’ll promise you more than kisses
Something you simply cannot resist

But before I have the gems and crown
Before my mind is handed down

Look the other way for now
Like you’ve always done forever

Wasted

Come on let's be honest
        Remember what love is ...
                      Its not just a four
      spelled words.
                it's something else,     something 
       More powerful than Medusa spell
              For real 
 if you want to feels, the taste
                    Just be the first
        demonic angel 
                  its hints  more like  a drugs
         disappear out of blue,
Without a warning or good bye kisses
                                Its has not Time to stay
                 Just like a doctor who's run out of patients
         no justice to server 
but if the aim is to survive 
     just stay away from addiction  because all your 
          offsprings will be
                          Influences by 
          A story you Never wrote but
                    the title will remain still...

Premium Member Wasted Wishes

Sure could use a soda...
Last coins tossed in that wishing well.
Wish I'd kept that change !



Wordku: 5-7-5 words

AP: 1st place 2026


Used


You can’t recall the stone,
Once it’s thrown
Emitted harsh words, can’t be defused
And Time spent, can not be reused.

Wasted Breath

If your verse
is not remembered
Then all that time
was lost

Pretty words
and clever lines
Will melt
like Winter’s frost

If what you say
is subject
To what the wind
will blow

Time better spent
the less you vent
All verbiage
— to forego

(Dreamsleep: January, 2026)

Girlfriend Trouble and Other Aches of the Heart

Verse 1

Girlfriend Trouble

Pain
Hard
feelings
take hold.
A fight with her,
the one I care for,
and everything now
feels broken and heavy.
I just don't know what to do.
Why does love have to hurt this much?

Verse 2

Time Waits For no One

Tick.
The clock,
quiet machine,
Eat our youth whole,
Chews love into dust,
Leaves bones of memory,
Still,chase its shadow's tail,
Calling seconds by sacred names,
Pretending they'll stop if we sing the song,
We keep on running from the final tick

Verse 3

The River Forgets no Face

Flow.
Limps on
Through our sins
Washing lies away clean,
It hums to the drowned ones
Names carved in its ripples,
Even the mud remembers feet
No step unseen,no crime erased now,
The river keeps our softest griefs always,
Its ancient water never forgets a single
face


Premium Member Emotions Wasted in Pouring Rain

Drenched in pouring rain
With no parasol, but just a frilled hat
To cover her head,
With a bouquet of delicate golden blooms
Clasped firmly in hands, in the dusk
She waded through the rain swept avenue,
Her heart thumping in anticipation.

But he brushed past her, indifferent.
The moon stood behind,
Teasing her on her squashed romance.

Premium Member Wasted

I’m sorry for the shirt that I soaked 
I’m sorry for the pry and the probe
What about the push and the shove
How about the grip turned to grope

I’m sorry for the tears that I cried 
I'm sorry for the mess that I left behind
I’m sorry for the gas you wasted
My tank is full but I’m running empty,

But I am tired of saying I’m sorry
The things I wasted can’t be bought
A hundred wasted promises
A thousand wasted wishes
A million wasted kisses

Im sorry for the things left unspoken
What about my soul that was broken?
So I’ll turn the page, let the clock unwind,
Embrace the moment, leave the waste behind,

The journey is more than the goal,
The roads that we wander can nourish the soul.
So here’s to the miles that I’ve spent for the day,
In the art of redemption, I’m finding my way..

But I am tired of saying I’m sorry
The things I wasted can’t be bought
A hundred wasted promises
A thousand wasted wishes
A million wasted kisses

In the stillness of a lazy noon,
I find myself humming a forgotten tune,
I’m sorry you’ve wasted my time.
I'm sorry I can’t make up my mind.

To Be Used Is To Be Wasted

the magnetic pull that draws the connection
it can become weaker once you use the same poles
a friendship built upon the idea of being wanted by others
will always shatter over a little discourse
one wanted to be loved even if it was as a friend
one wanted to use the other's skill for his own great good
we were always meant to fall apart
the signs were there but you chose to ignore
to be used is to be wasted
that was the message from my greatest god

No time wasted

There is no time to waste 

Time comes, and time goes 
The clock keeps ticking and tocking 
Life keeps going 
There's no stopping 
Stay on your hustle and grind 
You can waste some things 
But don't waste your time 
Your time is precious 
Don't just give it away 
be selfish 
Put your time 
To some good use 
And time will tell
How much and how can you excel 

Waste, no time 
Time can't be wasted
Tick tock 
You've got to shake it
(Repeat 1x)

Time waits on not a soul
Shift it 
Are you in control 
You bold 
Yes, I am 
The clock is ticking 
It doesn't stop 
It keeps going 
The hours , the minutes, and the seconds 
Some time prove 
Life lessons ?? 
Time is of the essence 
Essence is of the time 
You can press play , fast forward, then rewind, 
You can also run it back 
Time will put you on the right track ?? 
 
Waste, no time 
Time can't be wasted
Tick tock 
You've got to shake it
(Repeat 1x)

Time comes 
Time goes 
Know that you hold 
The power in your hand 
Make it count 
Have a plan 

Waste, no time 
Time can't be wasted
Tick tock 
You've got to shake it
(Repeat until chorus fades)

Written by Concetta Hardnett 
08/29/2025

Premium Member An 'I've Wasted my Whole Life' Moment

     Have you ever had an ‘I’ve wasted my whole life’ moment
         If you have, or if you can close your eyes and imagine one…

     You don’t necessarily have to be 'that old,’ though 
        you may sob harder at the age of dwindling returns

     … The pain is soul-searing: you’ve poured your heart
         into a child, a close relative, a relationship, a marriage
           

     and now you’ve been left irretrievably high and dry,
         so you have failed… miserably...

     There’s no one can ‘coach you’ through waves of despair
        stomach-churning nausea, ready to devour you

     No ‘pep talk magic’ to revive your spirits, to restore your equilibrium
        ‘Pep talks’ are for performers; you are not acting, your pain is real 

     But there is this:  It's All Good.  For you.

        ~ Consider the Source.

Alt Title: A Wasted 3 Months

I wish I could make you leave as fast as you arrived.
But if I could do that I would not be me.

5 days in and I knew you meant something.
10 days in and you were all that I wanted.
A month and a half in I asked on a whim.
A month and a half out I realized you no longer care.
10 days out and I'm grieving not for a cat.
5 days out and I wish we had never met.

But if I could do that I would not be me.
I wish I could make you love me as I loved you.

Full Color

A morning walk, amidst the trees, beneath a sky of grey. 
The sound of crisp from frozen ground breaks silence in the air.
I love the feeling that I get on such a winter day,
where light through all the empty branches somehow takes me there.

It makes me dream of times in spring where newness comes again.
Can’t help envisioning the grey transforming into green.
But then it never ceases there, I picture until when
the trees before me transform til they’re so inspiring.

I see them as they ought to be, in worlds of better fortune.
I see them as they want to be, but seldom are they here,
where every branch is color filled, it’s truly mesmerizing.
It makes me both happy and sad as I am standing there.

This world we’re in. The lives we lead, they follow this same story.
So often they are so much less than what they’re meant to be.
‘Twould only take a bit of Heaven to change them to glory,
but all too often we’re stuck in… the grey of winter trees.

wasted

I thought it was bad  
when I couldn’t do  
the things  
I needed to do—  
when food became a foreign ritual,  
and sleep was a fractured dream.  
When the laundry piled up,  
silent in the corner,  
and the trash remained  
untouched,  
an offering to my inertia.  
  
I thought  
that  
was the worst it could get.  

But here I am—  
begging myself  
to move,  
to feel  
something,  
to drive,  
to breathe  
in the world outside,  
to see the sunset  
and let it fill me.

And yet,  
I can't  
even get out of bed.  
  
I want to.  
I want it so badly,  
my soul aches for it.  
I would give  
anything  
to rise,  
to feel  
the pulse of living  
again.  
  
But the hours pass—  
slipping,  
swimming  
like quicksilver,  
too fast,  
too distant.  
  
Where did they go?  
Where did I go?  

Four hours,  
fours hours spent  
pleading with a self  
that cannot respond,  
crying,  
aching for the strength  
that has abandoned me.  
I cannot move.  
  
I am here,  
still,  
wasted.

Premium Member Waiting Time is not Wasted Time

Waiting is not fun when you’re on the run
They’re things to do before the day is done.
Daily tasks are like a mountain to climb
But it seems we are always short of time.

Waiting time is by no means wasted time
If we use this time our life’s pump to prime.
A pump that is not primed will soon run dry
Those always on the run soon fall and die.

Waiting provides time for much-needed rest
So, we can always perform at our best.
Use the time to meditate while you wait
and you will walk life with a steady gait.  

Patience, an essential character trait,
can only be formed as we learn to wait.
So, stop the chase, get out of the rat race,
and live life with gratitude and grace.

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.

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