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 Are What You Are
You Are What You Are You are what you are, Not shaped by them, Not carved by fear, Not bent by noise. You walk your path,
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
Never Give Up
Never Give Up The night drips slow, Through broken dreams, Where silence hums, In endless streams. The walls are cold,
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
I trusted you
I trusted you I trusted you Do you hear me? God, I trusted you I opened myself like a wound. Showing you locked doors I would never open
By Skippie Petrova3 months ago in Poets
Rise Now Oh Winter Winds Rise!
Rise now Oh winter winds Rise! send forth your frosty vanguard drain the moisture from the air before it ripping the breath
By Matthew J. Fromm3 months ago in Poets
Fragments of a Heart Left Behind
Journal Entry Day 229 I thought we were building something real once. My heart feels heavy again, and I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t. I carry the weight of the love I hold so dearly for her — or maybe it’s just loneliness trying to fill the gaps of her carved into my thoughts. No matter what I do, I can’t extinguish the light I hold of these memories. I can’t stop the gripping ache in my chest, as if my heart is beating its last beat.
By Logan Halverson-Bergez3 months ago in Poets
Roots of My Own Heart
Roots of My Own Heart I feel the roots break, Inside my chest, Reaching for moments, Never at rest. They twist through memories,
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
Ashes that Remember Our Names
By evening, the room has that orange hush that makes the smallest sounds important— the grate clicking as it cools, the soft sift of ash making snow of the rug’s edge,
By Milan Milic3 months ago in Poets
Litany of the Cooling Hearth
The fire learns our names in vowels of heat, then forgets them, syllable by syllable, as if unspelling a blessing. ༺ _ ༻
By Milan Milic3 months ago in Poets
My Soul in Pain
My soul is in pain — a sorrow I cannot share with you. My heart is heavy with the weight of feelings I suppress. I need to cry — to cry so hard it could tear the world apart.
By Reshma Rosy3 months ago in Poets
1982 Pontiac. Content Warning.
On a hot summer day, a day like any other, Gleeful urban youth, run and chase one another, hydrants cracked open to cool melanin skin,
By Ezekiel Xander3 months ago in Poets
The Orchard Where Hearts Broke
The Orchard Where Hearts Broke We met in shade Fruit hanging low Your smile warm My heart open Joy circled us Light on the path
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
Voice of Death
It speaks when the world is silent. Not loud, not soft, but certain. A murmur beneath the pulse, a truth the living refuse to hear.
By James Anderson3 months ago in Poets