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Poems about Sad
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There's an open door in the dark, / but this barrier makes it hard to move any closer, / and time seems to be trickling away, / I can feel each second pass, / and my thoughts have taken to disrupting themselves. / / There is a warmth on the
by RoisinDubh
121 words, 1 comment,
on Nov 6 10:03 AM 2008. In Sad, Dark, Spiritual, Angst, Thoughts, Anger, Perception, Depression, Anguish
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a poem about loosing yourself....
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Why do you still affect me so / Why do I call when my weaknesses show / You have nothing to offer me / Never did never will / No words of c
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And all the men who built Big Ben
The time that they all took
by kep
105 words, 11 comments,
on Nov 2 3:41 PM 2008. In Love, Life, Sad
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This voice cries out / From within / Pleading for / A special place / inside another / / This voice cries out / "I'm weak, hold me" / Lo
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a poem about second chances and learning from what life hands you
by gingerhall1976
629 words, 24 comments,
on Nov 1 8:57 PM 2008. In Personal, Sad, Life, Pain, Death, Depression, Sadness, Loss, Anguish, Family
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I am an actress. / I can hide my feelings / My thoughts, / My emotions. / I can paste a fake smile / On my face. / I can act happy / And ca
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Here I am. / My bridges burned to the ground / and all around me is the fire of constant grief; / a fire unquenchable. / It turns to ash the things I love so dearly / and consumes the things I knew. / I sit and watch the flickers of hope / d
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My place of retreat / When my strain takes its toll / Is in the patchwork of fields / Which settles my soul / Amongst the mounds in the lan
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You told me to decorate this cookie / Based upon how I feel / With Reese’s peanut butter cups / And candy corn, and frosting, and sprinkles
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She lies there like a broken doll / She took her life to stop the pain / The pain far to much for her to bare / Life is gone but the body's still here / / Her parents sit there, faces grim / They had no idea she hurt so bad / They had no id
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Sweetly she haunts, / a toothless ghost. I catch her / hiding in smoke from the old stove; / a scent like toasted chilies in sweet oil
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nevermind. / look at this place. / the upsettings in the sink / and all of your disclaimers on the door / bottles and bottles of differences to drink / and you spill your silent treatment / upon the floor. / look
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Forbid the young to read no farther. / This is a tale of some ones father. / If the faint of heart should still be reading- / Please just l
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The girls with white washed faces / Stagger through the lamp lit street / Into the seediest embraces of / Someone they’ll never meet. / Th
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I look outside to see that, / Its raining on a tree / I climb outside / And look around / While rain is pouring on me / / I love the rain
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A poem about my father.
by gingerhall1976
287 words, 17 comments,
on Oct 12 8:12 PM 2008. In Life, Veterans, Personal, Sad, Society, Thoughts, Pain, Death, War. Reward
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There’s a little girl / With spiders in her hair, / With grimy, yellow teeth / And a sullen sorry stare. / / There’s a little girl / With
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/ The years no doubt, my friend, have changed me less / Than those moments with you which nurtured my mind; / And so right now I feel I must confess / To unformulated thoughts now refined, / Distinguished and concentrated on you. / / You f
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What happened to you, my darling? / That I didn't see / To replace your laughter / With bitter tears / And pull you away from me / I saw
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A youthful aspiration- / in the hand of a society, / stifled and confused- / by unethical propriety. / A once exuberant dream- / has been t
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September was a somber month, / It lingered in the past. / Still hung the constant memory, / like a haunting ever last. / We braved the try
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Sun split are the lips of this tired soul.
Too young yet too fly but too old to grow.
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My complacency tears away my progress. / Layer by layer I see it all, / Falling and disappearing from existence. / / Sine-like my life wo
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Words tumble over what came before
tripping over what comes next...
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Glory fills my soul, / God's mercy and forgiveness, / The flame for my coal. / / As if floating up, / High upon the ethereal palm, / I fee
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So tired of the struggle, I am exhausted from this fight / There is more of an ease pushing others away, then in trying / Residing in a l
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When he was a baby / he'd just start to cry. / There was nothing wrong with him. / He's mad's the reason why. / / When he was a toddler / he was prone to fits. / He seemed to like to stomp around / with tendencies to spit / / When he
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