sad poetry
The cathartic nature of poetry makes it one of the best outlets to channel feelings of sadness, emotional turmoil, grief and despair.
Why It Hurts so Badly?
It was supposed to be a simple goodbye but the residue will never divide from my mental state to my physical aura It's like voodoo and a forbidden potion What can I do in this situation Huh? I could leave everything behind and try to find you
By Thomas Benson2 months ago in Poets
Downstream Thoughts
The phone is a bomb in my hand, A portal all the connections I never Wanted to make in the first place. I wanted to live in a creek bed, you know. Tucked away like a salamander only to Pitter-patter through the shallow water And turn my eyes up to the full moon. Nothing good buzzes like that, On/off, on/off, on/off. Alive out of nowhere. Then Dead. I wanted the creek to be filled with cool, Crystalline water and I'm even okay If there's little gemstones of glass Buried in the rocks. Glass cuts open my palm with images. Pretty little pictures of pretty lives. Songs for problems I don't have. The glass would turn into river glass While the Water munched on my bones. The moon, the moon, the moon, the moon Would sing me lullabies until I floated... Downstream.
By Silver Daux2 months ago in Poets
The Unspoken Goodbyes
When two stubborn souls fall in love and break up, the damage cannot be mended easily... Living in a generation where it is considered weak for the men to reach out first, and so-called desperate for the women to reach out, we end up going into our own dark holes for a while, ultimately living out a lie until something so-called better comes along...
By Armand Slayer2 months ago in Poets
Tish
Beautiful mistress of the night A dark soul burning in the light Cutting roses for your glee Making husband and children happy Twisted, sinister, delightful Engaging, sociable, insightful A paradox within one heart From your Gomez you will never part Oh! Gorgeous Tish, what did we do To deserve someone like you? A darkness so vast, so deep Out of it anything could creep: The most splendid horrors Crawlers for your adorers A leviathan from ancient times The hand of a man hanged for his crimes You are truly wicked, sinful indeed But you never forget your most precious creed: Love thy family and thy husband true And they will surely love you too
By Stephanie Hoogstad2 months ago in Poets
