by Rachel Prett 4 months ago in sad poetry

A poem

Photo by Denis Oliveira on Unsplash

I try so hard

To be stone.

To be a volcano.

To give the illusion

Of an ocean.

But I know

Every stone must crack,

Every volcano erupt,

That every ocean

Is not vast.

I try

To be a bottle,


Let my feelings show

And yet I know

Every bottle

Loses its lid.

And yet

I hold it in,

Controlling the burst.

Ask me to speak

To tell you it all,

But my heart

Was ripped to pieces,

Torn and abused,

And all that is left

Is a black hole,

Dark and vast

And deep.

My soul was long ago

Carried away

Swiftly and sure

On a devil's wind,

Cold and unfeeling.

I am here

Yet I am not


I am cold, hard


Blank and smooth,

Steadfast and strong,

To be shaped

As you would perceive me

Never giving up

The inside.


Am stone.

sad poetry
Rachel Prett
Rachel Prett
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Rachel Prett

I'm a poet and a fiction writer. I can write quite decent essays, but I'd rather tell stories of the heart and speak with my whole soul.

See all posts by Rachel Prett