"cryer" poems
Here's to the...
Calorie counter
Long sleeve wearer
Excessive water drinker
Mirror believer
Professional over-thinker
Clever liar
Hair puller
Tongue biter
Thigh hater
Toilet bowl hugger
Magazine lover
Belly fat ****
At home cryer
Bedroom hider
Internet follower
Social stink bug
One sided therapist
Friend loser
Terrifying truth
Reality dodger
Space-brained
Nicknamed
Love rejector
Anxiety collector
Roller coaster rider
Personal antagonist
Perfection chaser
Hopeless dreamer
Nothing achiever
Unnoticed angel
Silent rainbow
Blood seeker
Soul-searching rebel
Wilting rose
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
liar liar heart on fire
let me clip this one last wire
then youll fall down, ******* cryer
hang the noose
it'll be our truce
give me one more chance to roll a deuce
loving isn't hating
and promising isn't faking
please stop my heart from breaking
liar liar heart on fire
as it swings to stop the dyer
beat again and take me higher
look with those beautiful eyes
stop telling all of these lies
quit trying to deny
loving is whats made for you
you know me, i love you too
hating me just isn't true
liar liar heart on fire
give back in, to your desire
with a truth i will admire
Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 12:23 AM UTC
You treated me like I was your toy,
I had plans to become your boy,
I thought of what all,
But never imagined this fall.
The fall of our love,
The fall I will serve,
This isn’t what I deserve,
I thought our love could preserve.
Yet we are standing here,
With eyes full of tears,
We could have been peers,
If you had kept me as your dear.
Instead, you asked me to help you,
I thought this was to grow closer,
But you were just my player,
and your game ---a love slayer.
I would give you that,
You are a very good liar,
And I am just a cryer,
Now start finding your new buyer
Wrong is what I am not,
for even after your plot
My heart still loves you,
All it is perceives blue.
Are you happy now,
After treating me like a cow,
Is your personal vendetta complete,
can I find someone else to please.
But I will still ask you,
Why did you choose me,
What made me a key,
What is that you plea?
When I see your photo,
Tears fill my eyes,
my hairs start to rise,
While my mind still ask---
“Why me?”
My love for you was true
But you treated me like your crew
Now I need something strong to brew
To forget that you ever flew
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 2:47 PM UTC
You saved me in your moms car the other day
holding my hand just in time to stop tears exploding out from my eyes. Because I'm very claustrophobic and I ******* hate small Hondas.
You let me hold you when we watched Steel Magnolias with your mom crying in the back saying Im sorry I walked in on your movie, I'm such a cryer.
We went into your room to listen to vinyl and even though it wasn't what I expected, I love it all.
You answered all my questions about things in your room, and showed me your best fiends angry poetry on your wall.
You answered every question as if every item was a priceless antiquity, even the bottle of Mardi Gras beads and how you watched a documentary about the people in factories who made them, and how you just can't bring yourself to throw them away.
I don't even know if this is a poem but I'll put it up anyway. It may not be poetic but ever word that passes your lips it's Hemingway and Emerson to me.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC
im a jumper
im a thumper
im a bear
im a pear
im a hopper
im a stomper
im a eater
im a steamer
but i am not a screamer
im not a cryer
nor a laugher
not a surgeon
not a garbage man
but i am me
and thats all that matters
me
Dec 4, 2010
Dec 4, 2010 at 10:09 PM UTC
I have to hold back my tears. No one can see me like this, vulnerable and not in control.
They think that i can fend for myself, what do they know? Truth is im in need for their help, for their opnion and inspiring words.
For a long time it was me in the middle of the sandwhich. My older sister covering me, and i protecting my ypunger twin.
Its funny how the sandwhich turns into how my life is today. My older sister takes up all the spotlight, claimig it allfor herself. Absorbin all the attention until there is none left. I shake at the words she wont utter, like a simple please or thank you. How she would never help my mother how she leaves my mother fighting so hard, as she sits on the couch and jist watches. When my mother asks for her help she will make it more like a burden then helping out of respect. I will do any of those thigs in a heart eat just to take the stress off of my moms shoulders. But again thats how we differ...
As for my twin the one that i had felt the need to protect since we had been in the wound together 16 years ago. How can i put in words all the feelings she leaves on me? She is so irritable yet i yearn to watch her succeed. She is as slow as a turtle, yet sometimes shes as sharp as a knife . Some nights ill catch her talking to herself, it pains me to see her over think things. After so much effort of tryin to help her all i can do now is make beleive im sleeping, pull the covers over my head and let the tears roll down my cheek, burning it under their touch. She has this problem and the tendency to ovetthink thongs from the stipidest things to the most important. She lays them all on the same scale not considekg the dfferences betwene them . As muh as she overthinks , when she has an idea she lets it cloud her judgement.l
I remember thst one time in our cribs its blurr but i still feel it in my blood. Diane had my moms attentiom absorbed for she was alsay a cryer even when her head hutt a lottle bit. Michelle was sick with strep having my moms also and my dads granparents. Then my head throat and whole body was killing .. All i remmeber was keeping my mouth shut. And waitig for someone to come ask me how i was feeling. Which no one did.And still as i cry typing this no one will ask me how im feeling, for i have middle child syndrome
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 6:29 PM UTC
There has always been my family...
And My Family.
Day 1
I was born.
This girl was born to her parents not knowing anything. Living her life through school and music with her sisters and little brother, this is her life.
This is her family.
This is my family.
9th Grade
I meet a girl, and she is the definition of deafening headphone music and larger than life punk rock music. These types of instantaneous connections are too strong to ignore.
I knew right away, we would be friends.
She introduces me to her friends and I find myself in a group hug of my new friends, people who decided to accept me.
This is her family.
This is my family.
10th Grade
The same girl is my closest friend. But I am not her closest friend. I feel her pull away to be somebody else, and that is okay. I will often run to her crying and sad and she will do her best to pick me up. And she does.
The friend group we have is more like home than the house I sleep in. I forget about my parents and find comfort in the arms of my friends.
I feel conflicted about which family means more to me.
I tell her, "I know blood is thicker than water."
She tells me, "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."
...I have never heard that before.
Is this her way of saying that we are more family than anything?
Maybe we are.
Or maybe we were.
We walk together knowing that we are never giving up on each other.
This is her family.
This is my family.
11th Grade
I meet another girl. A friend of a friend. Jealousy builds. Attention is a fight nobody wants to lose, I have become the 3rd party nobody asked for.
Families are supposed to fight. But now my family is not one that will fight for our happiness back.
But I want to.
I always have.
But I cannot fix this because I am not the only person involved.
Why are we fighting?!
Day X
I wish I could take back my mistakes.
One friend describes her life connected to 4 people... one of which is no longer talking to her.
And that one friend is also part of my family. And if losing 1 of 4 people you love is a tragedy, than for me...
It is losing 1 out of the 2 people I have left.
The two people I care for most will not talk to each other. And I am the biggest mediator the world never needed. But I cannot let go of either of the two people I love and care about.
I initiated the disaster. I started the dominoes. And I will pay for it.
I have to.
Nobody expected this catastrophe to affect me, or her, or the boyfriend, or the girlfriend, or the best friend, or the lost friend...
The victim
The aggressor
The manipulator
The cryer
The coward
Me
I cannot fix this with my own two hands.
I look at the two people I care for most.
They will not talk to each other.
And to a point, it is my fault.
I look at them.
We all had to suffer and bleed for this covenant of friendship and family.
This is their family.
This is my family.
This was my family.
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 9:07 PM UTC
I am a liar,
At least that is the truth,
I tire myself with endless fire that burns within me every time I lie,
So I say to you,
You who defend me,
I may be a liar,
But I am not a cryer,
I hope I will retire from this hole,
But it gives me an endless desire,
To continue feasting on the warmth,
I am a liar,
And liars will never get higher then the ground,
Where we feel dryer than being higher,
I am a liar,
I liar to be,
I liar forever,
I will always be the liar.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
I'm a lyer
I'm a cryer
I'm a sigher
I'm a lyer
One thing about nature is
You cannot lie.
Unlike history books in front of us
they're simple like the mind.
One might question the simplicity
that controls us everyday.
The mind means well this I know
in every possible way.
No matter who you are
or what you might have done.
I believe our mind
it is simple in it's one.
Spend some time outside
and soak it all in.
Let the wind possess you
and take it's words within.
Love is a thought
that possesses my mind.
I pray and hope every night
to find one of my kind.
Outside makes me happy
even in this winter weather.
I know I will find a man
comforting as my winter sweater.
So today I will praise this grey sky
because it is true as can be.
The birds are chirping loud as loud
and still I think about Steve.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
I want to go away.
Lay me in the Earth
And let my body decay.
My mother isn't a cryer,
She would rather fold my body up
To lose it to fire.
Would they sprinkle my ashes somewhere-
Or place me in a jar,
Leaving me on a shelf without a care?
I would rather be put in a box-
Placed underground
To be covered in a mold frost.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC
An ugly cry they call it.
What is so ugly about something that brings such relief.
As if all your problems fly away for a certain time.
You are limitless,
You can feel everything you tell yourself not to.
Tears are the cleansing of ones heart,
The dusting of ones soul.
Without those drops of water,
Everything seems hard and cold.
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 10:12 AM UTC
How come every
Sick
Abusive
Dark
Love song i hear
Reminds me
Of you
The fear
The essence
You hold
In
Me
It's not beauty
It's disgusting
Im disgusting
Stop
You say I'm not
*** you know
It's ******* disgraceful
It's not tasteful
You inside me
But i take it
Burning
Whisper my name
Surround me
Scream in shame
Noones to blame
You're a demon
Crawling about
My skin
Swim skin deep
Keep me warm
You hold me down
With a frown
I'll sing a song
To honor your name
So lovely
Am i keeping you
Or do you keep me
I thought i was a fighter
In the mirror a cryer
To others a lighter
Within it's burning
Empty
Oh but of course
I see it now
You arent me
You're just the terror
And screeching
That rests within
M e
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 12:01 AM UTC
Hello poetry
Is a place
For dreamers, realist's, believers, trolls, soul's, spirit's, tarot's, screamer's, bleeder's, laugher's, cryer's, want's, desire's haiku's, free writing, anger, love inviting, all enticing, all poetry, Shakespearian's, poe-soul's, lord of the ring readee's, fashionista's, prophetic poetry, weirdies, goofies, strange one's, disgusting things....
All real
All MAKE BELIEVE...........
This is a place
Called hello poetry.......
And as for me
I'm just writing for mine queen....
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
A HUMAN IS CRYING
The dog is dreaming
under the piano
asleep across
its foot pedals.
The clock announces
the seconds
in a loud hear ye hear ye
town cryer's voice.
A bumble bee is arguing
furiously with the glass
of a cracked
window pane.
Time is defeated.
A human is crying.
Time is different
for the clock, the bee and
the crying human.
Time ceases to exist
lost in his grief.
His brother is dead.
Somewhere in the journey
around the sun
he has left the planet.
Earth continues on
without him.
He sees his brother
everywhere.
Strangers
wear his face.
Walk with his gait.
He almost expects
to hear
his voice in the dark
at the turn of the stairs.
He sees him many times
in many mirrors.
Or in the back of a spoon.
His face trapped
in a cobweb.
It always appears
as if...as if
he has just left
the room and
will be back
any second now
but: he isn't. . .
The dog is still
asleep under the piano.
The clock has run
out of time.
The silence is terrifying.
The bee it seems is
dozing on the window ledge.
The human
is crying.
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
A HUMAN IS CRYING
The dog is dreaming
under the piano
asleep across
its foot pedals.
The clock announces
the seconds
in a loud hear ye hear ye
town cryer's voice.
A bumble bee is arguing
furiously with the glass
of a cracked
window pane.
Time is defeated.
A human is crying.
Time is different
for the clock, the bee and
the crying human.
Time ceases to exist
lost in his grief.
His brother is dead.
Somewhere in the journey
around the sun
he has left the planet.
Earth continues on
without him.
He sees his brother
everywhere.
Strangers
wear his face.
Walk with his gait.
He almost expects
to hear
his voice in the dark
at the turn of the stairs.
He sees him many times
in many mirrors.
Or in the back of a spoon.
His face trapped
in a cobweb.
It always appears
as if...as if
he has just left
the room and
will be back
any second now
but: he isn't. . .
The dog is still
asleep under the piano.
The clock has run
out of time.
The silence is terrifying.
The bee it seems is
dozing on the window ledge.
The human
is crying.
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
the glorification of the city
as if in its midst we can find some hidden truth through the smoggy abyss of lost humans
that we. you. lonely tired bags under your money maker eyes broken in this way and that. and i. crumpled arms insecure cryer
//let me keep this to myself.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 4:36 PM UTC
She's a troubador, singing for love,
Like a town cryer you will surely find her,
Down in the precincts, sat at the ice rinks,
Sculpting and showing off her soul's fire,
She's a troubador, singing for love,
Like a preacher, she's a beseecher,
Down in the precincts, sat at the ice rinks,
Sculpting and showing off, her skills as a teacher.
You can tell her from her song,
A divine ditty,
It sings true and pretty,
That lifts itself above the throng,
Singing to the children,
As the adults go blithely by,
Like they do when they hear a bird in the sky,
The adults are absent minded,
Spiritually blinded,
Playing games,
But the children are kindred,
They see her flames,
And dance in its fire,
To the adults' shame,
They dance along to her lyres,
Who among us can say they came?
To witness her fitness, suffice to inspire,
Love and eternal desires.
She's a troubador, singing for love,
Like a town cryer you will surely find her,
Down in the precincts, sat at the ice rinks,
Sculpting and showing off her soul's fire,
She's a troubador, singing for love,
Like a preacher, she's a beseecher,
Down in the precincts, sat at the ice rinks,
Sculpting and showing off, her skills as a teacher.
She's writing alone,
Typing madly in to her iPhone,
Catching snippets of her mind's moan,
With inspiration at the fingertips she foams,
Half-assedly rolling smokes,
******* hard when she's taking tokes,
Finding ways to crack jokes,
Taking aim, cussing blokes
Taking wide and long strokes
That *** a whole in one,
She's not serious she's real fun,
A sizzling, smoking gun,
Who runs with the sun,
All at one,
Says it all yet there's so much more,
Can tell she feels it raw,
To love, pity and adore,
She begs the children and implores.
She's a troubador, singing for love,
Like a town cryer you will surely find her,
Down in the precincts, sat at the ice rinks,
Sculpting and showing off her soul's fire,
She's a troubador, singing for love,
Like a preacher, she's a beseecher,
Down in the precincts, sat at the ice rinks,
Sculpting and showing off, her skills as a teacher.
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 12:10 AM UTC
I looked into an hourglass
And watched the sands of time
Racing on their downward trip
And blowing cross my mind
With each falling grain
That mountain grows higher
Time remains the same...
...Don't believe it
I'M A LIAR!
Time is an old man
With a sturdy cane
His body bent with age...but
His eyes remain the same
Those eyes
Have seen everything
In so many different ways
To flash by all ..that he has seen
WOULD PUT YOU IN A DAZE
I'M A LIAR ...WHEN I SAY...
TIME...REMAINS THE SAME..
every second is
a different link upon the chain
I'M A LIAR...A VILLAGE CRYER
SCREAMING
In the night
Carrying a message and a light
The MESSAGE is to guide your steps
The LIGHT,Is to guide mine
If we walk together
There no telling
What
We may find
The hourglass is empty now
The sands have blown away
Time like everything else
Was not.....
......HERE ...TO ... stay.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 2:31 AM UTC
I'm the cryer that
Cries
And cries
And cries
Until I become exhausted
And I fall asleep
And hope I don't wake up
So that I don't have to feel that way
Ever again.
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 1:58 AM UTC
I'm not a cryer...
Much worse has happened in my life...
Yet here I am crying over you..
I'm good...
Don't text me in the morning.
I have unrealistic expectations...
Excuse me... I mixed up lust with love...
You are beautiful and I am broken...
It's ok... you owe me nothing.
I'll be fine..
I'll be cold...
Don't worry about it.
It's just my heart.
That ***** can take a beating...
Sorry that I interfered in your life...
It won't happen again.
You've got me crying.
Some 28 year old strong, determined, beautiful you made me cry...
I'm harder than that... harder than this..
maybe I thought we had something.
Apparently we don't.
And who am I kidding?
This would never have worked.
But I'm still crying, by myself, to myself and part of me might be breaking for you...
you'll never know..
I'll just be gone...
I can't keep doing it...
just know it's all I wanted...
be happy.. because that's what love is.
you made a choice, and I can read between the lines.
E.J.M.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 9:44 PM UTC
In the proud of the night
(well past the community allowance of social mirth)
curfew has been ignored on mass
The town is flooded with its near full population
on the streets
A tension
Intelligence is lost in the mob formation
all tender that something is frowning
that a ‘big thing’ is about to happen
How do you speak out in this field ?
Town Cryer
An old fashioned post but still held
Professional,
he strikes out a pound against the atmosphere
Might I hold your attention Good People
Gods People may I bend your ear ?
Upon my authority
Mark my words
And
As Goodly subjects of our fare town
I ask that you return to your abodes
Account for your household
Barrier your threshold
Tend a warm hearth
And wait out this night
Praying as family
As unit bond
And union under Gods kind eye
The Cryer has given direction
Repeating to all the gatherings he comes upon
By his office he has told them to swear off
The public move
Infected by the nights vibration
Addled and inflamed
Disperse
Crowds coward together
And relax apart
Walking foal, new to footfall
Unsecured
Sparks in the dark
Unguided and untested
Weapons into the criminal night
New spawned characters
Fused
Laughing giddiots,
scolders,
prancers
Diners, not surgeons
Fledded on venoms
Sense riders
As their individual monsters grow they distance one another
They pepper
Repeating the town
Strays of mess opportunity
Few go straight home
A remattered night is made place
An unpracticed costume horror
No dress rehearsal here !
A remattered night is made
Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 5:13 PM UTC
I'm not a cryer...
Much worse has happened in my life...
Yet here I am crying over you..
I'm good...
Don't text me in the morning.
I have unrealistic expectations...
Excuse me... I mixed up lust with love...
You are beautiful and I am broken...
It's ok... you owe me nothing.
I'll be fine..
I'll be cold...
Don't worry about it.
It's just my heart.
That ***** can take a beating...
Sorry that I interfered in your life...
It won't happen again.
You've got me crying.
Some 28 year old strong, determined, beautiful you ....made me cry...
I'm harder than that... harder than this..
maybe I thought we had something.
Apparently we don't.
And who am I kidding?
This would never have worked.
But I'm still crying, by myself, to myself and part of me might be breaking for you...
you'll never know..
I'll just be gone...
I can't keep doing it...
just know it's all I wanted...
be happy.. because that's what love is.
you made a choice, and I can read between the lines.
E.J.M.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
One day exploring I came across a soul
About as famous as one could in life be
Alone as that what she wished at the tie
To escape the prying eyes and to feel free
After talking just awhile trust was born
And with my vow never to mention a name
I spent the longest time knowing her
The full moon shone the dawn sun the same
Longer deeper trusting honesty became one
Just so to be themselves first time in ages
Almost impossible for them not to be so
Famours but lonely personal book many pages
To relax undress disguise by candle and fire
Simply to be with another no autographs desire
Not young deeply sublime a soul became the cryer
Abandon trust release of feelings in public brier
My word remains as is still untill I one day die
A soul so very known yet lonely as could ever be
To love such a precious gem as I did back when
To have known the release love as deep as the sea
terrence michael sutton
copyrght 2018
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 10:12 PM UTC