sad poetry
The cathartic nature of poetry makes it one of the best outlets to channel feelings of sadness, emotional turmoil, grief and despair.
The Spark Within
In every heart, there lies a spark, A flame that glows, even in the dark. It burns with passion, it burns with light, A beacon of hope, in the blackest night.
Wheezie Triptych
I. Grandma Bitter body full of tar and insulin I don't want to become you but have I already taken my first step?
Violet LeStrangePublished about a year ago in PoetsDear Readers and Supporters and Fellow Creators
Dear Readers and Supporters and Fellow Creators, I haven’t forgotten you It’s just been a bit of a to-do You see, I fell off a cliff
Reconciliation
All tears have fallen My heart has emptied All the hurt, all the suffering Enduring what one shouldn’t Death should have come
K.B. SilverPublished about a year ago in PoetsTHE HEART THAT BREAKS
The heart that breaks, it knows no peace, It bears the scars that never cease. It weeps and bleeds, it cries in pain, And longs for love, but all in vain.
RISE UP AND ACHIEVE
Here is a poem I hope will inspire you to achieve great things in life: Life is a journey, we all must walk, A winding path with twists and turns that often shock.
LOVE, UNCONDITIONALLY
Love, oh love, how sweet thy name! The very thought of thee sets hearts aflame. Thou art a force that knows no bounds,
Broken
unravelling and damaged ah ah ah ah ah ah i’m broken and even if i wanted to i don’t think i could change and even if i had to
The Yearning for Freedom
Oh, the desire for freedom, a flame that burns, A yearning for liberty, a wish that turns, From political and social freedom to the imagination's call,
Mutahir AhsanPublished about a year ago in PoetsBeautiful Dead Things
They shower with insatiable curiosity. It's too dark in here, she said, turn on the light. But he didn't want to see the spray-painted figure
Stevi-Lee AlverPublished about a year ago in PoetsAdvice on how to enhance your enjoyment of reading poetry, Part 1
Regarding my enjoyment of reading poetry, I've always followed Jacques Derrida's advice that il n'y a pas de hors-texte. You're probably thinking, I'm glad you can speak French Giuseppe, but what does this mean in anglais, s'il vous plait? Simple: there is nothing outside the text or [in our case] the poem to consider.
Giuseppe BartoliPublished about a year ago in PoetsThe Lonely Road
The lonely road stretches far and wide, Its dusty trail seemingly endless to ride. No travelers in sight, just solitude and space,
educa earnPublished about a year ago in Poets