sad poetry
The cathartic nature of poetry makes it one of the best outlets to channel feelings of sadness, emotional turmoil, grief and despair.
A tragedy
Mooni had a heart, She really did, But listening to those kids Made her hate herself, And everything else, Until consumed with rage
Shahid AliPublished about an hour ago in PoetsThinking in the dark room
I was thinking in a dark room The room was dark And my thoughts were dark too The light was off in the hall The light was off in my brain too
Shahid AliPublished about 2 hours ago in PoetsTrapped In A Cycle Of Dysfunction
I feel so trapped. Dead end job, dead weight on my back. Work full time but still can't pay my bills. Ask for a raise, they give me a few free meals.
Hajii BrownPublished about 2 hours ago in PoetsIn July
In July, I can't stop the ranting inside Let me clear my throat before the silence Chaohu, I stand in your cloudy eyes
dear twin flame
" You are here, by my side fragments of you in everything I see, I try to be happy to feel satisfied but how can I ? when half of me is still incomplete
Simran ChimaniyaPublished about 2 hours ago in PoetsIn your arms, I fly farther
In your arms, I fly farther People in the distance, tearing the dark night with bonfire, and you Tear apart my gloomy mood with your song
griffinbrooksPublished about 3 hours ago in PoetsThe smiling face of snowflakes
The north wind rushes through the night A snowflake Why didn't Come with the wind These ice-skinned women
In to the black forest
Into The Black Forest I can't withstand this pain any longer. I try to hold the monster within, but the torment's growing stronger.
kd HoccanePublished about 4 hours ago in PoetsIn a dark time
In a dark time, the eye begins to see, I meet my shadow in the deepening shade; I hear my echo in the echoing wood-- A lord of nature weeping to a tree.
Shahid AliPublished about 4 hours ago in PoetsHistory of the night
History Of The Night Throughout the course of the generations men constructed the night. At first she was blindness;
Dujana ChakirPublished about 4 hours ago in PoetsThe whipping
The Whipping The old woman across the way is whipping the boy again and shouting to the neighborhood her goodness and his wrongs.
kd HoccanePublished about 4 hours ago in PoetsWidowed bride
Widowed Bride You kept me waiting in the rain That lashed out at me like a cane Soaked to the bone I still remain Ignoring the chill and pain
Dujana ChakirPublished about 4 hours ago in Poets
