sad poetry
The cathartic nature of poetry makes it one of the best outlets to channel feelings of sadness, emotional turmoil, grief and despair.
Love Found, Love Lost
In fields of green, they met in spring, A love so sweet, a wondrous thing. They laughed and danced beneath the sun, Two hearts entwined, their love had begun.
Dear Grief
Dear Grief, Her floral sheets wave in the wind like hoisted sails broken free from masts, and with them wafts the smell of laundry,
R.C. TaylorPublished about a year ago in Poets- Top Story - April 2023
Lies upon lies
Warning: dark content ~ Dear John, - I told you I hated you today. I breathed that wicked thing to life In hushed words and resignation
Heather HublerPublished about a year ago in Poets You Are
You haunt me every waking day Always there in my way You surround me with open arms And I can’t resist your charms
Dear Sally...
Dear Sally, Send the dates There’s a longer way to get there Trust me on this I know I’ve been fatal
Aaron MorrisonPublished about a year ago in PoetsTo My Mother
To my Mother, At the beginning, you were there Also, perhaps at the end Time will tell. My sickness will be present
Logan de ArmondPublished about a year ago in PoetsUnwavering Love: A Tribute to Parents
In a world that's constantly changing, Parents face struggles that are so challenging, From sleepless nights to endless days,
Dear love.
Hey, it’s me. I know you’re wondering how we ended up here. We use to paint these ideas of growing old together but now it’ll just be you. I’m sure at this point you can’t fathom how I could’ve ever done this. You painted this pretty picture of me, but deep down inside your painting was wrong you didn’t use the right colors. You didn’t know my color palette and you always too much light in my painting, the reality of it all, I was very broken my paint dried and cracked. My canvas was coming apart at the seams, and there wasn’t enough paint in the world to fix me. I was so scared, and no one not even you could help me. I hate to admit that I was a lost cause. I must’ve made this decision years ago long before I met you. Please don’t take credit for my death. This was 110% my choice my doing this was the one thing in my life I had complete control over. I’m not bragging as though it may seem.
My Name Too
Dear Nicole, your name and mine, It writes itself here line by line. When we were both still married to men Love erupted, flame-burnt cayenne.
Nicky FranklyPublished about a year ago in PoetsOne Friend
Trigger warning: self harm, suicide. I do not condone what is said in the poem. Dear third wheel, I have one friend and he’s trying to Leave me.
Daniel FreemanPublished about a year ago in PoetsHow to Find Poetry in Objects
Dear Backpack, It's been a while. I'm writing you now to see how you're holding up. More so now than ever before, poetry is the only form of madness that renders me sane. Below is our past, as I recall. Perhaps your memory is in better shape. I thought you could help keep me honest.
Stevi-Lee AlverPublished about a year ago in PoetsLost Luggage
As I took my first step out the door, The world beckoned me to explore, To see the sights I've only seen in books, To live and learn from different nooks.