sad poetry

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

Missed cue
I wanted to be right so badly I always got it wrong. Made the wrong step stumbled over and twisted my ankle on the same crack in the pavement
By Alyce Willow3 months ago in Poets
Miller's Clown
Sing clown, sing. For no one knows the pain you feel. Face so white, cheeks so red. Green hair, plaid suit, little hat. The sound of laughter is your tragedy.
By Dean Traylor3 months ago in Poets
Across the Sky
Watching the sky turn blue And then crimson, Leaking through the branches of old trees. - In a dark room The Light blue
By Reece Beckett3 months ago in Poets
Middle-Age Loneliness
Middle-Age Loneliness The house stands quiet after dark, The television softly glows. A silence settles in the rooms, A silence only loneliness knows.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
Block
Block Unblock Waited for text Nothing came Fighting the urge to text Block again Unblock Text Waiting Waiting Not read
By L.I.E3 months ago in Poets
The River of Forgotten Dreams
Beyond the hills of silver mist and beyond the valleys where wildflowers danced with the wind, there flowed a mysterious river.
By Kamal ali3 months ago in Poets
The 4 F's. Top Story - June 2026.
I used to live my fear in freeze Face it with a front of fawn But I was just thinking today While sitting in the humid aftermath of rain
By Lolly Vieira3 months ago in Poets
The cake, the snake and the custard. Content Warning.
My beauty was the icing on the cake, my ignorance being the custard that smothered it. Like a snake in the grass, hidden in plain sight, you waited to strike-covertly chauvinistic.
By Dotty Fairweather3 months ago in Poets
A Poor Man's Child
The poor man's child is born owing debts he never made. Before he learns to write his name, life has already written a sentence for him.
By Nelo3 months ago in Poets
You said that yesterday too.
I was carrying this sadness today and I couldn't even point to why it showed up. I did all the usual things, meetings, smiles, small talk. But inside it all felt like walking on a sprained ankle, every step reminded me that something wasn't right.
By Annam M Gordon3 months ago in Poets
The House with No Windows. Content Warning.
When I first crossed that weathered threshold, young and bright with borrowed spring, I thought that shadows that draped in corners were but harmless, slumbering things.
By Amber3 months ago in Poets
I'm Not Done Yet. Content Warning.
Life... it always begins somewhere. A single breath, a first cry... A tiny hand wrapped around a finger, trusting a world it has never met.
By Amber3 months ago in Poets