sad poetry

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

My Mother’s Comb
I found her comb upon the shelf, its teeth still lined with silver strands — each one a whisper of her care, a lifetime braided in her hands.
By Saqib Ullah12 months ago in Poets
Remnants
Lurking in shadows, The spirits of past mistakes. Always behind you.
By Taylor Inman12 months ago in Poets
Behind the Mask
Behind the mask I wear , waits another mask and behind that, a grim fate I dare not name. If I stripped them all away, If I stood here raw and faceless,
By angela mckendrick12 months ago in Poets
A Villanelle of Private Hell
I should have clasped you ere the darkness fell That single hour returns to haunt my brain And what I lost becomes my private hell
By Tim Carmichael12 months ago in Poets
The Pain
If I do not change I only have myself to blame For I am who I am Because of the pain Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
By Atomic Historian12 months ago in Poets
How Long?
Why is it still a struggle? How long am I going to suffer? When will I have more highs than lows? Can I get more sleep at night?
By L.I.E12 months ago in Poets
Weighted Blanket. Runner-Up in The Sonnet of Shadows Challenge.
For B . This weighted blanket you gave me lessens the sting of light though it no longer holds the scent you wore Christmas night, cut primrose.
By Justin Keeling12 months ago in Poets
Maestro of the Lost
The child within me yearns for justice, the young woman she's become longs for peace. The anger bubbles over and burns us,
By Lizzy Rose12 months ago in Poets
Troubling Relationships
UN-conscious, must protect oneself at all costs, So as not to be seen for all they truly are - The other remembers who they were, but can’t pull them back,
By Grz Colm12 months ago in Poets
Contrary Survival Mechanisms
The narc can-not show who they really are, or else their egregious mask would split – the poisonous vitriol smatter far, ignorant of all sides, will not submit.
By Grz Colm12 months ago in Poets
Indian Summer
whispering spirits dwell within the solemn winds of mercy, crossing vast prairies and deep canyons, returning to a source.
By Lamar Wiggins12 months ago in Poets
No Escape. Top Story - October 2025.
It surrounds like a warm blanket in the cold of a winter night Clinging onto it provides some comfort Then to awaken as if due to some horrid fright
By Jason Morton12 months ago in Poets