sad poetry

The cathartic nature of poetry makes it one of the best outlets to channel feelings of sadness, emotional turmoil, grief and despair.

Bloom Without Permission
I kept waiting for a sign a green light, a gold star, Someone clapping from the sidelines like: yes, you may now become yourself.
By Milan Milic8 months ago in Poets
Man Who Lives in the Mess
He calls himself a perfectionist but his house tells another story— clutter stacked in corners, an odor choking the air,
By Tina D. Lopez8 months ago in Poets
The Servants Who Suffered in 1854
The Servants Who Suffered in 1854 They rang the bell, the silver tray, their names unknown to history’s say Hands rubbed raw by soot and starch
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 8 months ago in Poets
The Sad Clown
The Sad Clown He paints the smile a little wide to hide the ache he holds inside the children laugh, the crowd leans near
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 8 months ago in Poets
Do Not Look Through the Keyhole
Do Not Look Through the Keyhole He told me once, never peek Not when it’s quiet, not when it creaks That door’s not locked for safety’s sake
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 8 months ago in Poets
Villains
Villains aren’t born; they’re made— shaped by old wounds, often forged in heartbreak, certain their cruelty is self-preservation.
By Tina D. Lopez8 months ago in Poets
Static
I learned early that love has a sound. It is doors closing softly— or more often, slamming shut, wrapped in chains and barbed wire.
By Bailey8 months ago in Poets
Who hurt you?. Content Warning.
Time: 7:02 pm "Who hurt you?" ... "Was it your ex?" No "Was it your parents?" No "Was it a friend?" No "Who hurt you?"
By Chxse8 months ago in Poets
I'm Not Angry. Content Warning.
🄸’🄼 🄽🄾🅃 🅁🄴🄰🄳🅈 I am groping in the darkness I’ve been chained and left to rot in. I am the keeper of the whispering beginning and spectacular end. I can rewrite the path in every color and scent. Still, it abruptly ends again and again.
By K.B. Silver 8 months ago in Poets
Freedom
They say if you love someone you should set them free. I didn't ask to be freed. A hand let go and called it mercy like I was a wounded animal
By Tina D. Lopez8 months ago in Poets
Jumbled Thoughts And Fractured Emotions. Top Story - February 2026.
Listen... I know that you don't really know me but we've connected in the dirt, upon his floor Yeah... I know that you don't owe me
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden8 months ago in Poets
Normalized Abnormal
Protests in the streets Pepper sprayed by armed masked goons My TV sounds mad ಠಿ_ಠ ↯ ___________________Bolt ⚡
By Lightning Bolt ⚡8 months ago in Poets