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 Man Who Can't Dream
Verse 1 He had hands that held but never reached Eyes that saw but could not seek He spoke in facts, not in fire And never thought about what his heart desired Pre-Chorus I tried to paint the sky in his shade But he only saw the lines I made No hunger for unknown tides Just comfort on the safer side Chorus Never fall in love with a man who can’t dream Who won’t chase the wild or dive into unknown seas He’ll cut off your wings, He'll dim your light He'll Trade your sunrise for a silent night But Love needs vision, Love needs flight Not just a heartbeat, but loving insight Never fall in love with a man who can’t dream Or you’ll soon forget what dreaming means Verse 2 He built his life with measured steps But he never danced, He never wept He feared the fire, He feared the fall So he never ever truly lived at all Bridge Give me a soul that dares to lose That sees the world in divine truth A man that speaks in poems, not just plans And gives me the stars with his trembling hands Final Chorus Never fall in love with a man who can’t dream Who won’t believe in what can’t be seen He’ll love your body, but will put out your flame And leave your spirit cold and shamed Love needs wonder, love needs grace A man who dreams will give your dreams space Never fall in love with a man who can’t dream Or you’ll forget your sacred divinity You’ll forget your sacred divinity
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warrior7 days ago in Poets
Haunting
I feel you lingering in my shadow, the wisps of your specter billowing like smoke in my iris within the mirror as a cold grazes along my spine to settle within my hollowed chest. You always return, in tandem with the steps I take somehow always following close behind. I hear you echoing in my laughter, the melody of your voice harmonizing with my baritone sound as I remember the joy we shared before the flames were blown out. You always write, in words you have spoken familiar yet, somehow always change the tune. I see you possessing all in my life, the faces of strangers resembling yours with the hardships they fall into as comes a point my feet can no longer run from the memory of you. You always appear in the same vision as in the past somehow always clinging to your youth. I grieve the loss of you, the woman I once knew and loved with the naïvety of a teenage girl as she had once wished to be like you but was instead left in the grave beside you.
By Krystyna Kwiatkowska7 days ago in Poets
