sad poetry

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

You Can Be Innocent
Nothing is truly what you see it as being. Only reflections of what your mind tells you. You'll try your best to get an answer to a thousand year old question, and when you finally get the answer, it's never enough.
By Morgan Rice9 years ago in Poets
Spinning
Spinning. People come in, look around. Stay a while, bring a friend. The more the merrier. Spinning. Everything here sparks a fire in your soul.
By Yesenia Arias9 years ago in Poets
The Fog
The fog is dense as it engulfs her she has no where to go but forward though the path is covered the uncertainty is lurking
By Stevie Phillips9 years ago in Poets
Depression
It's odd you get into a routine the rut or dark cloud that hovers over you killing you slowly from the inside seems to become enjoyable. The twisted masochist in me loves the feeling of despair it makes me feel alive when it seems the work can come crashing down at a moment's notice. It seems to be the one true constant in life so much so that positivity becomes poison I don't want to be cured because the poison has slowly become my very own blood. You learn to live off of negativity. I thrive from it and that's what scares me the most.
By Marcus Smith9 years ago in Poets
Closed for the Night
Curled up in a ball To close the space between My body and the Universe, Pull the sheets above my head, To block out the Sun,
By LJ Chaplin9 years ago in Poets
The Ballad to My Youth
Youth and innocence are two precious things in our lives that we desperately cling onto as we get older. Age is a blessing and curse - a bittersweet moment in our history. We long to become wise and free, but when it's not as we expected we wish to turn back the hands of time to our naive and tiny minds.
By Sarah Misa9 years ago in Poets
Within the Flowers
I lock my door and turn off my lights, dirty tears run down my face as I smear mascara with my shaky hands. I sit alone, numb, thinking why couldn’t it be me. I whisper to her looking for a response, “Mom, I miss you, I love you, you didn’t deserve this…You were my world. I’m so sorry I was mean to you before you left us, I didn’t mean it;” there was no response. I spoke to her every day for months, I wondered why she hasn’t replied, does she not love and miss me back?
By Victoria Hartley9 years ago in Poets
Heroin Confused for Her Heroine
Blank faces, empty spaces. No trace of life left behind blue eyes, Yet she is unable to cut the ties, Bound to lifestyle she was addicted.
By Emily B9 years ago in Poets
I Am Not the Next Diagnosis Victim
I self-suffocate. My soul is baited and trapped, seized inside a stranger's body. I sprawl in bed as darkness creeps around me, squirming and chafing through my heavy cold sheets, clenching for freedom. The self-suffocation shoots a bullet through my thoughts, lodged in my brain for a lifetime. I blame these moments on my frame of mind, trying to desperately climb back up a dark spiraling abyss of depression that has lasted five heart ripping years.
By Victoria Hartley9 years ago in Poets
Wishes
Screams of my name at the friday night games. With an enormous dinner afterwards. Trips to disneyland, six flags, and seaworld.
By Nigel Fulmore-Smith9 years ago in Poets
Living Among Someone Else's Dream
Always a smile on your face, never a hint of dismay. Yet there are those lurking beneath, to lead you astray. Mocking your success, taunting your friends.
By Morgan Rice9 years ago in Poets
'99 to '17 Blues
Somehow too big AND too small for your boots Waiting for dreams to come true that Haven’t been dreamt yet Placing bets On how to become an overnight success.
By Eimear Devlin9 years ago in Poets