He's a lone wolf afterall
Silvered fur
Not giving a pur
Known to many
But doesn't needs nannies
Packless
Fearless
Weaponless
Alone he stood
Not in the dark
Not out the cold
But out in society
Dramas they just keep coming
And there he stood
Watching alone
Related quotes
Just Because
Just because you did
Doesn't mean that you should
Just because you can
Doesn't mean that you could
Just because you are able
Doesn't mean you would
Just because you sat
Doesn't mean you should‘ve stood.
Just because you spoke
Doesn't mean that you thought
Just because you looked
Doesn't mean that you sought
Just because you argued
Doesn't mean that you fought
Just because you dreamed
Doesn't mean that you wished not.
Just because you cried
Doesn't mean that you wept
Just because you had
Doesn't mean that you kept
Just because you cleaned
Doesn't mean that you swept
Just because you said yes
Doesn't mean that you accept.
Just because you gathered
Doesn't mean that you own
Just because you gave up
Doesn't mean that you were alone
Just because you saw
Doesn't mean that you were shown
Just because you expiate
Doesn't mean you should atone.
Just because your old
Doesn't mean that you have flaws
Just because you won
Doesn't mean you have to applause
Just because you waited
Doesn't mean that you paused
Just because you were you
Doesn't mean anything, because.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Bike Ride
Jim's younger sister
Followed you everywhere
and stood watching
as you rode the old car
around the field
or whizzed around
on their motorbike
to the cheers and shouts
from the fence
Monica why don't you
go off and play
Jim said
yes
said Pete
her other brother
go play with your dolls
go take a run and jump
she said
and still stood watching you
her eyes fixed on you
like wasps on a jam jar
I want to watch him ride
she said
and stood with her hands
on her hips
waiting until you stopped
the bike and got off
and wandered over to you
and said
I like the way you ride
like how you sway
and swerve on the bike
and you smiled at her
and took in
her short stature
her dark eyes
her determined expression
and as Pete rode off
on the bike
and Jim stood
on the fence
calling to him
Monica put her hand in yours
and said
wish you were my brother
I know you'd let me ride
the bike or car
and not tease me
or bawl me out
I guess I would
let you ride the bike or car
you said
and sensed
her small hand in yours
her thumb rubbing
against your skin
but seeing
as you're not my brother
she whispered
maybe you could
marry me one day
and we could ride off
into the sunset
like they do in the movies
in Jim's old car
yes sure maybe
you said
knowing inside
that'd be a bridge too far.
poem by Terry Collett
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For In Ages Past As Knights Did Toll
for in ages past as knights did toll
onward came the night
the darkness of fear
alone they stood
alone against the dark
the fear
alone against there greatest fear
and at their darkest hour
did one stride forth
one of might and valor
alone amongst his kin
alone against the dark cold fear
against his might did the dark attack
with fang and claw
with wing and beak
yet still he stood
alone in the dark
against there greatest fear
even as his back did break
his shield rent and sword asunder
did hope come to him
a simple smile
a simple voice
of hope
for even in this great dark
this greatest depth of his fear
he knew
alone
he was not
poem by Dragon Heart
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She's One of The Fearless Ones
Reminiscing with old friend about the past.
she is another one of those fearless ones.
Courage against it all.
Waging a sentimental war against world.
living by a means to an end.
a great sacrifice so others can have a better life.
She is one the fearless ones.
Braver then i could ever be.
no hypothetical bull. do or step back.
no hesitation in a moment of desperation.
no time to wait for the collaboration.
what is best must be done.
Oh yes most definitely she is one of the fearless ones.
preach what ever you want. but she will.
it doesn't make any less real. giving it all up.
all i can say to haters and debaters is shut up and get out of her way.
No time for all this talk
when none have walked that path in
which a great sacrifice must be made of course
she is one fearless ones.
how could that ever be doubted listen me
as i shout it oh yes she ones of the fearless one.
the walk of angel, the pain from plenty of demons,
proud enough to tell you off,
but humble enough to give her shirt off her back.
she is one of the fearless ones
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Over The Falls
They broke out in laughter again,
His lip beaded with sweat as they strapped him in,
And he stood by and waited to be called.
The talk was of times that had gone by
And the quantity and quality of women they lie.
His eyes welled with wet and his mouth had gone dry.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
He got up and tried it again.
For lack of persistence is surely a sin.
As he stood by and waited to be called,
He looked to the lightning with glee
And admired his vessel for its symmetry,
Feeling twelve units shy of a bachelors degree.
As he stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited to be called.
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trains Make Me Lonesome
I was 5 years old
When daddy started packing
And I stood there by my momma
As she cried
And the next thing that we knew
Some old train came passing through
And daddy got on board
And we aint seen him no more
Chorus
I wonder why trains make me lonesome
It happens everytime that engine moans some
And when I hear that whistle blow
It makes my heart sink low
And I wonder why trains make me lonesome
It was a cold dark night
When I drove her to the depot
There were tears in my eyes
And a ticket in her hand
And as we stood there by those tracks
I knew she wasnt coming back
So I turned and walked away
But I still miss her today
Chorus
Those ink spots look engine no. 9
And this couch on which I lay
Suppose to haul my blues away
That old pipe you keep toking
Is like an old cold enging smoking
Chorus
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hedgehogs In The Garden
I went outside to retrieve the washing one night;
It was dark, apart from a glimmer of moonlight.
Suddenly, I was aware of a very strange sound.
Feeling rather worried, I began to look around.
To my surprise, I saw two hedgehogs there;
Busy searching for their food, without a care.
Gone were my former feelings of anxiety and fright;
They were swiftly replaced with joy and sheer delight.
I stood and watched the two hedgehogs in total awe,
As I’d never been that close to a live hedgehog before.
I had absolutely no idea that these creatures roamed,
Unseen by me, each night, so very close to our home.
Of my presence, I’m not sure that they were aware,
But my close proximity, they seemed happy to bear.
To us, they were extremely welcome guests,
As, hedgehogs are known to eat garden pests.
I stood in the garden, dressed in my cosy PJs,
Watching them both there, snuffling away.
I stood there watching for quite a while;
On my excited face, I wore a joyous smile.
From them, I struggled to tear my excited eyes away,
And I really hoped that they would return the next day.
They visited us for a few weeks, then disappeared,
But, the memory of their visits, to me, is still dear.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold Hands From New York
I came down from albany to new york to find what Id been missin
I looked across the river to the city where the windows all stood glistenin
I stood listenin
Into a tunnel I did rise, like a grave inside, but I was young and able
When I came out the other end, ah through the smoke the winter light was feeble
Unreadable
I was optimistic though, a cabbie told me where to go
I thanked him
A face of white a face of brown, here a smile, there a look of danger
For a stranger
It was too unreal for me
I found no one who trusted me
There was no man could offer me
A cold hand from new york
Cold hands from new york
A voice within you cries wont someone please help me
Ill do the same for you one day
If you should ever pass my way and need me
I came down to live alone in new york the city of the living
There were fortunes at my feet but most of men were taking, none we giving
Or forgiving
Children ran and children played and roses grew in alleyways
I saw them
There were men who lived in style and others who had died where no one knew them
cause they couldnt win
There were parks where old men slept and dingy rooms where babies crept unwanted
Till I began to ask myself if there was hope or if it mattered what the did
Or if they lived
It was too unreal for me
I found no one who trusted me
There was no man could offer me
A cold hand from new york
Cold hands from new york
A voice within you cries wont someone please help me
Ill do the same for you one day
If you should ever pass my way and need me
I came down from albany to new york to find what Id been missin
I looked across the river to the city where the windows all stood glistenin
I stood listenin
There were prophets in the squares and people there who smiled and said forget it
There were lovers in the park and there was danger in the dark, I felt it
So afraid of it
There were preachers of the word and poets who were never heard
I heard them
There were those who would not try to learn the measure of the lie
Theyre livin
I heard a young musician play in a place where they paid you not to listen
I heard a woman scream for help while men stood by and offered their best wishes
Thats how it is
It was too unreal for me
I found no one who trusted me
There was no man could offer me
A cold hand from new york
Cold hands from new york
A voice within you cries wont someone please help me
Ill do the same for you one day
If you should ever pass my way and need me
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Picture
I strolled last eve across the lonely down;
One solitary picture struck my eye:
A distant ploughboy stood against the sky—
How far he seemed above the noisy town!
Upon the bosom of a cloud the sod
Laid its bruised cheek as he moved slowly by,
And, watching him, I asked myself if I
In very truth stood half as near to God.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Another Dark Day
ANOTHER DARK DAY
From the arrays in the sky
eclipses another bright star
A curtain is drawn
A life, to an abrupt end
A flower once blossomed
now withers away.
Far away in Pakistan
A lone voice is cut in its prime
A life which stood against oppresion
A life which stood for justice
A life which stood for equality
A life which stood for democracy
Snuffed out in daylight
How bizzare
How cowardly
How cruel
This life now withers away
Adieu Benazir Bhutto
A life that counts
Better to die a hero
Than live an unsung life
The world mourns you
In our hearts, you live on
Till we meet again
Good night Mama
poem by Olumide Familusi
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A Night Poem
Last night
Staccato stride
Of silent thoughts
That occupied the vacant mind at sleep
Threw me into a strange state
Thoughts I couldn’t identify
Kept hitting at the fluid brain-walls
Like small pebbles hurled by
A little boy into a stagnant puddle just like that
Each ripple catapulted me into
An indescribable state of nightmare
At some corner of the blank space
A faceless you stood there
Watching me break into a cold sweat
And running and running in vain
I stood there vulnerable and fixed
In spite of my running endlessly…
Through the abstract images
Of rocky cliffs, tree-tops, curling seas
Of bizarre faces, broken stairways
That flashed on the dark canvass
Echoed the two letters of your name…
06aug2010
03.22hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To You My Lord
I hurt alone I wept alone
I fell down then I stood alone
Were You there watching me?
Why did then i felt alone?
It was grey down here
I called your name
I thought of You
And called your name
Were You there hearing me?
Why was then I left alone?
I hurt alone I wept alone
I fell down then I stood alone
Were You there watching me?
Why did then i felt alone?
poem by Kalpak Kaplash
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hidden
From all I've done and all I've said
let them not seek to find who I've been.
An obstacle stood and transformed
my acts and way of my life.
An obstacle stood and stopped me
many a time as I was going to speak.
My most unobserved acts,
and my writitings the most covered --
thence only they will feel me.
But mayhaps it is not worth to spend
this much care and this much effort to know me.
For -- in the more perfect society --
someone else like me created
will certainly appear and freely act.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Unicorn
As I wandered through the woods one night,
I stumbled upon a most magnificent sight.
It was an hour or so, before the break of dawn,
That, in a moonlit clearing, I spied a Unicorn.
Hidden behind a tree, I stood and stared;
To reveal myself to him, I did not dare.
In the grassy clearing, he stood and grazed,
As I stood there watching him, in a daze.
Of the Unicorn’s beauty, I was in total awe;
He was the most majestic creature I ever saw.
His coat was as white as freshly fallen snow,
And, it had to it, a pearlescent, luminous glow.
His flickering ears were alerted by every sound;
At the tiniest whisper, his head turned around.
His golden, spiral horn stood at least a foot long;
Heaven help the creature who does him wrong!
The moon shone in his large, dark, reflective eyes.
Although he seemed so gentle, he seemed so wise.
His long, soft, shiny mane was just like ‘angel hair’;
Curled around his neck and shoulders, it flowed there.
His hooves, like his horn, were of burnished gold.
He really was the most beautiful sight to behold.
Suddenly, he galloped off into the surrounding mist.
Now, having seen a Unicorn, I know that they do exist.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just think of what Woodrow Wilson stood for: he stood for world government. He wanted an early United Nations, League of Nations. But it was the conservatives, Republicans, that stood up against him.
Watching The Crows
A bushman got lost in a scrub in the North,
And all the long morning the searchers went forth.
They swore at the rain that had washed out the tracks
And left not a trace for the eyes of the blacks;
But, trusting the signs that the blackfellow knows,
A quiet old darkey stood watching the crows.
The solemn old blackman stood silently by;
He stood like a statue, his face to the sky.
Black Billy was out of the bearings—we thought—
If he looked above for the bushman we sought;
For we rather suspected the spirit would go
In—well, quite another direction, you know.
Most bushmen on solemn occasions will joke,
And unto Black Bill ’twas the super who spoke.
He asked, as he cocked his red nose in the air—
“You think it old Harrison sit down up there?”
“I’m watching the crows. Where the white man lies dead
The crows will fly over,” the blackfellow said.
The blackfellow died, and long years have gone round
Since the day when old Harrison’s body was found;
But still do I see, in my vision at night,
A faint figure come like a shadow in sight,
And nearer and nearer it comes till it grows
Like the form of that blackfellow—“watching the crows”.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Still Silently
I see a shadow
shining through the moon
there is a reflection
and it's coming through
I hide my face
a silhourette
in my window
pitcures burning of you
It's just a memory
passing me by
in the midnight sky
after a pouring rain
with troubles I can't forget
still silently
I'll wait one more day
I hear the sound of the wind
howling through the trees
with echoes of your voice
that whisper to me softly
just like jasmine
it was such a sweet smell
but it was just the pain
that took your place
still silently
I had to walk away
Their was a teardrop
that fell from these eyes of mine
as I stood on that montain top
watching ghost dance
off in a distance
as we died
still silently
we had to try
But what would it matter in time
when their was no other choice
I changed every direction
to escape your affection
such an addiction
still silently
I stood alone on this stage
I hear your name
still in the breeze
but I won't be coming home soon
sickened by your disease
turn yet another page
for a new destination
still silently
we feel the same
(spiritwind-2000)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Watching Mother
Your mother is peeling apples
for the apple pie
and you stand watching her
and say can I have some peelings?
Sure she says
it’s probably the best part anyway
and you notice she has tears in her eyes
and wonder if the old man
has had a go at her again
like that time over the camera
and her saying jokingly
you look like some tourist
in upstate New York
and he thumped her one
and her lip bled
and you stood watching
keeping your mouth shut
but wanting to go at him
but you being too small
stood still
and as she peels the apples
you watch her hands
go over the apples
with a skill of years of experience
and you watch as the tears
run down the side of her nose
and fall like raindrops
on to her busy hands
and you focus like some artist
at the way that they land.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Love In A Mirror
She stood there
looking at herself...
at the beauty God bestowed on her
in front of this mirror
I stood behind her, wrapping my soul around her
my dark brown arms against her pale skin,
covering her nakedness
in front of this mirror
Our bodies stirred, feeling the fire
remembering our lovemaking earlier,
and previous times we have stood here
in front of this mirror
Like this very moment, her eyes
arresting me, her soul possessing me,
the warmth of my body against hers
in front of this mirror
poem by Pablo Loves Life
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alone in grief, alone in thought, alone
[The Pieta’]
alone in grief, alone in thought, alone
the mother stood, the mother wept,
small, silent, tearless tears at the brim
that never came:
The Pieta’
Around the gloom, around the dark, and hopelessness
She held her son a piece of flesh
Alone in grief, alone in thought she stood
The Pieta’
She saw him hit, she saw him fall, his eyes
She closed herself; hers the last kiss
Hers the last touch, farewell:
Alone in grief, alone in thought she stood
Pieta’
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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