sad poetry
The cathartic nature of poetry makes it one of the best outlets to channel feelings of sadness, emotional turmoil, grief and despair.
Bleeding Flowers: Part 1
Poem 1: The faint scent of rain A quarter past three Should I wait in vain Longing for the lost part of me This poem captures a haunting sense of nostalgia and longing. The "faint scent of rain" evokes a memory, something distant yet lingering, much like a feeling that won't fully fade. The specific time, "a quarter past three," feels deliberate—perhaps symbolizing a moment of realization or a time tied to a memory of loss. The line "Should I wait in vain" speaks to the uncertainty of hope, the inner conflict of holding on versus letting go. Finally, "Longing for the lost part of me" suggests that what's missing isn't just a person or event but a part of the self tied to that memory or experience. It could symbolize searching for identity, healing from a loss, or yearning for a past version of oneself. It’s beautifully melancholic, conveying the complex human experience of waiting for something—or someone—that may never return.
By Itsuki Writes2 years ago in Poets
Echoes of Silence
He sat on the bench by the window, where he and she had often talked. This place, which used to be theirs, now felt empty and lifeless. Here, in this old park, he had found her gaze, her laughter, her warmth. Now everything had changed. She was gone, leaving a gaping hole in his heart that he couldn’t fill. Every evening, he returned here, hoping to see her smile, hear her voice. This place held everything: their meetings, their conversations, their dreams. Now it all felt foreign, unreal.
By with love Ashley 2 years ago in Poets
How Do You Feel Happiness?. Top Story - February 2025. Content Warning.
Good Doctor? How do you feel happiness? Like a fishhook in the cheek, The tell tale BANG of gasses rapidly exiting a barrel, a trick of the hand before the sting. Like the first inhale of a joint— sharp, electric, a little bit holy, until the burn kicks in. How do you feel happiness? Like a goddamn joke, the punchline always landing too late, the laugh track rolling before I catch the setup. Like a house built on sand, like a sugar-spun web, like the taste of something sweet just before your teeth crack. How do you feel happiness? I used to fake it— Jesus Christ, I was good. Could tap dance bare—footed on broken glass with a smile, could wear it like a well-cut dress, tits juicy in a push up bra. I could make you believe I bled glitter and shit confetti. How do you feel happiness? I don’t, not right away. Not until it’s a fossil, a relic white poop from some mutt in the 90s. not until it’s run it's course in half-lifes. The isotopes seem to say: yes, I was happy there, yes, it was real, yes, it didn’t bite me back. How do you feel happiness? I double down on nature, on dirt-under-the-nails ,honesty on things that don’t lie. Red skies, storm warnings, a bird that shits on your windshield— no fucking illusions, no bait-and-switch. How do you feel happiness? Maybe I don’t. Maybe it’s all a carnival trick, a baited trap. But maybe—just maybe— it’s not a house of candy, not a witch’s laugh, not a trick at all. Maybe it’s just a fleeting thing that doesn’t need to last to count. Maybe I don’t have to believe in it, to let it in. XoXo some woman, somewhere, probably.
By L.K. Rolan2 years ago in Poets
