sad poetry
The cathartic nature of poetry makes it one of the best outlets to channel feelings of sadness, emotional turmoil, grief and despair.
Somewhere to Die
I want to find somewhere to die Somewhere to lie down Somewhere to laugh and cry Somewhere For just you and I Somewhere to settle
Atomic HistorianPublished 7 months ago in Poets00:59
00:59 Sitting at the bottom of the glass, I listen to the tinkling grains of sand, as they rain over top of me Slowly, they are filling the bottom
Hayley StokesPublished 7 months ago in PoetsAh, But You Left
Ah, but you left too early Before the toddler you'd become arrived Who would have babbled at the table Or leaned upon your mother's breast
Judah LoVatoPublished 7 months ago in PoetsThe Deepest Blues
Lost in deepest blues From one to another One extremity to another Life's river flows From tranquility to disquietening despondency
Paul StewartPublished 7 months ago in Poets- Top Story - October 2023
Bury Me
I thought we were done, you and I. I thought I had you overridden, locked out and tied down, gagged and beaten -
Amanda StarksPublished 7 months ago in Poets Whispers of Wonder
In a world of whispers, where dreams take flight, Beneath the canvas of the starry night, I'll weave a tale with words so bright,
As Death came for me
The angel of death came for me I switched out My body for one Much like mine Sadder and wiser 🌘 I'm older than you were
Unwell
My family the point zero one percent the folks you stop saying get well to because you know it only aches Auntie M
K.B. SilverPublished 7 months ago in PoetsUnoxygenated
I stored my anger under the floorboards, choosing to close my eyes. In darkness, it grew like mildew, coating every surface,
A Letter to Grandma
I vividly remember the warm caresses, sweet kisses, and tight embraces that comforted me whenever I felt sad, anxious, or lonely. I still carry your advice with me, guiding me through times of hopelessness, distrust, and solitude.
velasco liamaPublished 7 months ago in Poets"5 years old"
My last day of highschool was yesterday. I left the last 4 years of my life in a room I'll probably forget in a few years.
The Lungs
Kelly was her name a small girl sitting by a small lake surrounded by a open field. Her hair was white, a pure bleach color that blended with the sun as it flowed into the blinding view she would always dip her muddy feet in not that it helped much she cleaned herself at home for that.
Artist of procedurePublished 7 months ago in Poets