Lonliness Is An Option
Loneliness is an option.
One we all often choose.
Running away from what is good.
In the end you only lose.
Afraid of closeness and true love.
This option turns you to a slave.
Bitterness, heartache, hell incarnate.
Never sharing of yourself.
From fear of losing what you love.
Instead alone you will remain.
Choosing your own form of pain.
You want to love.
You want to give.
You're too scared of what you fear.
So this is the option you have choosen.
Alone without your true love spoken.
Loneliness is an option.
It leaves your life incomplete and barren.
Wishing all the time you could share your tender loving careing.
You're afraid, who's to blame?
It truly is a shame.
This option you may feel is best.
Remember though there's always happiness.
poem by Michael McParland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Happiness Is An Option
It is not easy
It is not easy
Looking from a window
At the edge of a house
At the edge of a town
Its grey like the day
When I lost it
Clouds overhead
I talked to a flower
That was almost dead
My body a prison
Why did I do it
Someone want me not to
But I still went through it
(living it upside, you gotta remember, that happiness is an option)
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(but happiness is an option)
Needed somewhere to clear my head
Find some strength a warmer bed
Maximum love in a minimal world
Id never achieved it
But then I believed it
So when I lost it - how
Im not sure - now
It was a strange feeling
Like a law repealing itself
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(but happiness is an option)
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(giving it up, if you are giving it up, if you are giving it up)
I can wake up in the morning
And not believe what I see
Look in a mirror and think
If thats really me
I dont think I suit my face
Its not a catastrophe
Its more a philosophy
Like the russians wondering why
Were born under a blue sky
But die in a dark forest
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(but happiness is an option)
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(but happiness is an option)
This is neither old nor new
Its always forever
Somewhere between sense
And ambition
Pleasure and decision
We have to make a choice
What do we want
Everyone singing
war, what is it good for?
While planning the next one
I dont need to win
You dont have to loose
We can choose
Happiness is an option
(you can choose)
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(chris: happiness is an option)
It is not easy
(no, it is not easy)
The war within us
(so war within us)
(so dont give up)
But it gets easier
(but it gets easier)
The more we learn
(the more we learn)
I dont need to win
(I dont need to win)
You dont have to loose
(you dont have to loose)
So dont give up
We can choose
Happiness is an option
(happiness is an option)
(chris: happiness is an option)
It is not easy
(no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no)
But dont give up now
(dont give up now)
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
(it is not easy)
Happiness is an option
(happiness is an option)
(if you are giving it up, if you are giving it up)
You dont have to loose
(you dont have to loose)
(if you are giving it up, you gotta remember)
We can choose happiness is an option
(we can choose happiness is an option)
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ows, You Opted To Be Free?
hmm, ok after a careful
analysis i believe you.
your option to be free
remains to be an option.
open ended and just like
any open ended question
it needs a very serious
presumption:
you know what prison was.
and you opted. you exercised an option.
i guess you were free
from the very beginning, otherwise
how can you ever have that option
to be free.
explain within
24 hours, why are you free
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you are choosing between bad company and loneliness, choose the second option.
That Time As We Know It
I wish there was another process,
To approach...
To go about this.
But there isn't one as an option.
There are those awaiting,
For that right time to come.
That right time to do as one wishes,
To put off to do and get those things done.
That right time to collect,
What it is that is needed believed to perfect...
A happiness surrounded with,
An exactness to accept.
Dictated and controlled as one expects!
I wish there was another process,
To approach...
To go about this.
But there isn't one as an option.
Yet...
That right time that begins for them,
Is as elusive as promises anticipated and made.
When God gives us time,
None of it can be saved.
Nor does that time God gives,
Contemplates in hesitation waiting.
I wish there was another process,
To approach...
To go about this.
But there isn't one as an option.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do we have option?
No one knows me and my feelings,
They smile at me as if I were happy,
When I smile back out of courtesy,
The burden of the mind is gone easy.
No one knows me and my feelings,
I am worried about everything,
That I can think about and feel,
Drowsy I am, with punishment conventional.
I'd want to do what I like,
For each of my likings, there is a hurdle,
I have been confused since young,
With lists of good and bad, long.
When I try to buy a hand phone,
They ask whether I want original or cloned,
When I try to buy the car tyres,
They ask me whether I want imported or rethread.
When I pour the oil for the engine, brake and steering,
They ask me whether I want synthetic or recycled,
Wherever I go, whatever I do, I have options,
Even when I pray, they ask me which God I pray to.
when I was born, I think that I didn't have the option,
when I am ill, I don't have the option to choose the germs,
when I lie on that bed, I don't have the option of,
picking up the right time, after many years,
after fulfilling all my desires, dreams and duties.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Tell Me The Name
Tell me the name
the flower you like most.
Option you may choose
Capejamine, Champak,
Cherysanthemum, chinarose
canna.
Tell me the name
the fruit you like most.
Look option below
coconut, cashewnut
cucumber, carambola
cubebs.
Time allowed five minutes
Then you missed the train
that has timeframed.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Violence is always the last option, but if that time comes, it is the ONLY option.
quote by John Gilmour
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Giving Up
Giving up will never be an option
in my life anymore.
I did it once before,
but will never do it again.
For years, I walked in limbo
after giving up on something I loved.
It got to a point where I lost myself
and travelled down many lonely roads.
Never will I do it again
and cheat myself that it was right.
Giving up will never be an option
as long as my body has life.
I have travelled down that road,
and know where the heartaches lie.
I have felt the isolation
and the lonely tears you cry.
Giving up will never be an option
and it should never be to you.
Where I have returned to life
so it can happen to you too.
A fire is never out
as long as one spark remains.
We should always remember that
in whatever we want to do.
20 June 2010
poem by David Harris
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Offer That As My Option
Why should I drain from exhaustion,
To maintain gains in a campaign?
Or be bombarded by others,
Complaining about their aches and pains...
To remain sustained in an unnamed game?
If I can avoid this,
Offer that as my option!
Why should I be grouped in a herd,
To leap collectively in a chase over hurdles.
Give me those tools as you promised you would do.
And I will do what needs to get done...
Without standing in line,
Waiting for someone's stamp or sign of approval!
If I can avoid this,
Offer that as my option!
Why should I drain from exhaustion,
To maintain gains in a campaign?
Or be bombarded by others,
Complaining about their aches and pains...
To remain sustained in an unnamed game?
If I can avoid this,
Offer that as my option!
And if that is not the case...
I'll make the choice to sit out this race,
Paced...
To slow my steps,
With those who choose just...
To 'Hang-in-there' as if for them,
This swinging in the wind,
Is an honor!
And for me,
Hanging anywhere is not an option!
Or a request to be approved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Being True
A person is good, as well as bad since these two qualities are in every person. Feelings have variations which can sometimes turn into positive and even negative. Being our best even when times are highly not in favour of us can be the best option. It even is an issue of adjusting oneself. Life and the world will never change, however attitudes can always change. That is basically life as being true, is always the right option.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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No one will be forced to take the public option. The word option means choice.
quote by Valerie Jarrett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Redemption
Mercy is an option-
unredeeming in
my attire of pain.
Lashed by bitter
storms of accusations
my honesty is
poor protection.
My armour
I thought-
never knowing
it would show
my Achilles Heel.
Opening myself
in all my
rawness-
in all my
lack of beauty-
in all that
I have ever been-
My honesty
is my undoing.
(Hasn't it always been?)
Mercy is an option.
Not one I'd choose
though.
I'll wait.
And Hope.
Because I know
it's my honesty
that will stand
guard-
When the demons
of doubt
are vanquished.
As they must be.
As they will be.
For,
Though pain be its gift,
Love never fails.
1 July, '07
poem by Usha Pisharody
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If ask 100 Arkansans about the phrase, 'the public option,' or 'a public option,' you'll get 100 different impressions about what that means.
quote by Bill Halter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Attachment Level
I never gave thought for degree of attachment
How can one think of it and offer comment?
It is real feeling from inside depth
It remains till the time of the death
It is God gift that prompts you to go very close
World would have gone barren if we had no option to choose
It is unknown attraction that pulls us near
We address them affectionately and call dear
You think of good and give fine support
It is one kind of loose attachment with good rapport
Human beings are made of sensitive fiber
Never forget a close friend but always remember
You can do two things in life all the times
Miss some one and cry or offer smile sometimes
There is no third option with you to be called nice person
As everything is out of our ambit with certain reasons
The body stretches fast when you burst into laughter
You may come to know the effect soon after
Some thing freshen up to remain in good mood
As if energy is abstracted from the fresh food
No one regrets friendship if it is genuine
Some friends prove as bitter as quinine
They leave behind bitter taste to last long
You may feel sour about being with the company of wrong
We may not come to know about the end of the journey
Nothing may accompany us including assets or money
Some of the close friends may miss the company
Your absence may not invite the attention of many
It is difficult to weigh in terms of any degree
We feel certainly relieved and very much free
It is closeness and love that keeps us in good spirit
We are always eager to meet friends and lovingly greet
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Shakespeare's Sister
Chidinma, she's Shakespeare's sister
For she also has the beauty of Juliet.
She shines more than a rising star
Gave light to my dark;
And brought love back to my heart.
Wonder if I could beat Paris in a duel,
And give her a ride to the sky,
Fairy creatures on our every side.
Romeo was too impatient,
Suicidal was no option for Juliet,
And the families now they are reconciled
Too late did they realised there's nothing
to be gained from the fight.
Let us kill the feud early enough,
And allow our children live happilly in love,
For Romeo was too impatient
And suicidal was no option for Juliet.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Lonely Traveler...
I see the lonely traveler,
Why is he so quiet?
Maybe he's in passion,
Maybe he's in fear,
Maybe sheer happiness,
Something to control in silence,
Without telling anyone...
To walk through the jungle trees,
Stare, climb and then sing,
A song, one happy, scary, so heartfelt,
I started to cry,
A mixture of feelings,
Something to divine to share,
Only with the invisible shadows,
That travel with him...
But I followed him,
For no real reason at all,
His gentle side as well as fierce side,
All in one,
All in control,
But still he walks alone,
Never to be confronted,
The Highwaymen fear him,
And those people are fearless,
Stealing money, for that you have to be...
But still, people kept away,
From this man, who sang his heart out,
Fear, despair, the quality of happiness,
This lonely traveler meant,
He spoke in a gentle voice,
When taken aback he changed his tone,
Rapidly to say,
He played his guitar on and off,
Sang to it, played to it,
Until he once met a cat,
No ordinary cat though,
A cat like him,
With feelings...
He understood,
Placed his loneliness away,
For he then took the cat,
Stroked it, Matured it, made it Free,
From the bounds of its old master,
He now only had his bag,
His guitar and many other
Instruments he picked up along the way,
As well as his cat, the only one that can breathe,
The same breath and feelings,
People don't know how,
For once the traveler stroked the cat,
The cat became lonely...
One of quality, one of defense,
One to never fail,
With only the man to lead,
Nobody else, may feelings rule,
We rely on nobody else,
I realized that this man was rich,
He never however used this for expenses,
For nature to take and give,
For his feelings to rule,
But his nature to stop him,
The cat too, took all it needed for good health,
Nothing more or less...
This is unity,
One so precise and profound,
The Heavens couldn't tear it apart,
I took the chance to go up to the man, the traveler,
And say hello,
He replied, in a gentle voice,
No man of fear, only emotions,
Ones of type and quality,
We talked, he wasn't lonely now,
But when I left him,
I carried on following,
And he remained even until I died...
And there I still remember that,
That person that controlled his emotions so well,
That loneliness was the only option,
And there he is on my memories,
Pressed, like a scar,
Walking through those woods,
Those jungle trees,
Humming with the bees,
Controlling his emotions so well,
Just so well...
Loneliness was an option,
He placed that option first,
Never to stop,
Never to cease,
For he is the one to travel,
Alone, with only his cat,
One of which to he talked was me,
I don't know since,
But the Highwaymen still stay away,
From that Lonely Traveler of Feelings,
And I refer to him as this,
For he was everything in this name,
In this emotion world,
It sounds like a game,
But he was the one,
The one of only ones...
The man himself with his cat,
His majestic, playful guitar,
His bag,
His free, pure emotions,
The Lonely Traveler of Feelings... that was his name...
One to never forget...
It resides as a scar in depth memory,
Sheer memory of feelings...
(these were my feelings when I wrote this poem)
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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__________Autumn Leaves And A Cruel Breeze___________
Daddy pays for all the jewelry dangling from her neck,
Her beauty allows her everything she can get,
Pride stands between her and the girl she use to be,
She looks in the mirror enjoying what she sees,
A feeling of invincibility glows like a sphere,
Every girl wishes they can be her,
A dream she lives in without care,
Without foreseeing this nightmare...
Autumn leaves falling to the ground,
Cruel breezes are holding her down,
Innocence is clearly not an option on this day,
A beautiful scene turns to black and gray,
Autumn leaves crashing down,
The smell of shame lingers around...
Walking in a different way,
Head held low this feeling of prey,
Just a touch makes her feel in danger,
Whether from a friend or from a stranger,
She seems so distant so unaware,
Of the people around her and the way they stare,
Not the same no longer daddy's little girl,
Just a girl alone living in fear...
Autumn leaves falling to the ground,
Cruel breezes are holding her down,
Innocence is clearly not an option on this day,
A beautiful scene turns to black and gray,
Autumn leaves crashing down,
The smell of shame lingers around...
Twisting and turning unable to sleep,
The screaming and clawing keeps her awake,
Lonely nights dreams she couldn't keep,
Forced to the bed and mouth covered with tape,
Smell of disease she cannot escape,
Escape from the room,
Escape from the rape...
Autumn leaves falling to the ground,
Cruel breezes are holding her down,
Innocence is clearly not an option on this day,
A beautiful scene turns to black and gray,
Autumn leaves crashing down,
The smell of shame lingers around...
Just a perfect girl in a perfect world,
Blaming herself for looking so good,
A temptation lasts like a flower,
She lost it all the night he had the power...
poem by Poetic Crisis
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Dieing Is Not An Option
Dieing is not an option,
When one is upset with life.
I like to think of it as a request,
One makes...
When a darkness begins,
To shield one from the light!
We all are born receiving gifts,
To experience our lives as we choose...
And like.
Some refuse to believe they have chosen,
To follow another on a path.
Instead of selecting,
A happiness grabbed for them that will last.
And that is not easy when variety,
Appears to confuse the mind of some.
Especially when discipline and devotion,
Seem to compete with those who have more fun.
But...
Dieing is not an option,
When one is upset with life.
I like to think of it as a request,
One makes...
When a darkness begins,
To shield one from the light!
Desiring with wishes!
Assisted by dreams one wants fulfilled,
Keeps one motivated to achieve and accomplish.
Experiencing the adventure...
Of acquiring skills.
And doing what one likes...
Is a thrill no one consciously,
Wants to see end or kill!
Dieing is not an option,
When one is upset with life.
I like to think of it as a request,
One makes...
When a darkness begins,
To shield one from the light!
'Excuse me,
I know you have decided...
To take your own life.
However...
Do you mind,
Taking it eleswhere?
And away from my sight?
Over there feel free to complain.
And do as much of it as you like!
But doing it around me,
You see...
For that I have no appetite.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Perfect For Me
Perfect For Me Reprised
Written by: Wilfred Mellers some time ago
So you’ve gained an extra pound
It doesn’t really mean I don’t want you around
So the close you wore might fit you tight
It doesn’t mean a thing when we turn out the light
I get your point of view
There’s no one I love more than you
You fit me to a tee my guide
There’s no place I’d rather be than right here by your side
I thank God above, for you are the one I love
I thank my lucky star, just because you are
You may not be perfect, but you’re perfect for me
You may not be perfect, but with you I want to be
Sometimes we may argue, fuss, and fight
I will always be your shining Knight
We may not agree on everything
Only you can make the flowers bloom in spring
Joy is what you’re make of
You’re the only one I love
And for every felt heartache
You’re still every breath I take
While making love I feel my body shake
Each time we kiss I feel the earthquake
When I’m with you my soul is so awake
Loving you could never be a mistake
From the day you were born you are perfection
Beauty true incarnate from conception
I have found my satisfaction
With you love is my only option
Any fool that’s ever had a heart can see we’ll never part
To measure my love it would be off the chart
Finer you are than symphonies by Mozart
You’ve always been to me a work of art
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Trapped
Alone with my thoughts that's how it should be
I loved this man and he said it's only me
But of late I'm not sure
If we are just friends or could become something more
He makes me so angry
And at times I'm unhappy
On days like these I think about what it's like to be alone
Life after Sheldon is my true question
One time I said me or her as I proceeded to give him an ultimatum
He said "see ya" because she was never an option
But he didn't choose me
Now I'm enraged filled with jealousy and thanks to him, I'm thinking differently
I feel as if I'm between the devil and the deep blue sea
It's either him rather than choosing me
poem by Anita Khelawan
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