Sad

Sad poems are filled with universal sadness and tart bitterness. But sadness has hundreds of different shades and halftones in every poem. Sometimes it is an unbearable feeling that overwhelms the lyrical hero. Sometimes it’s comparable to a prolonged depression without any hope for a future. But in most cases, sad moments in the past will bring a smile to your face after a while.

«A Bit Of Sad, A Bit Of Grey» by Constance J. Livernois

A bit of sad, a bit of grey
sorry for myself today

Not sure why, yet!, here it is
a bad day that doesn’t fit

Its off kilter, out of sorts
don’t quite know the cause

Can’t let it take me down
time to lift off the ground

More aggressive, but not mean
talk more and be at peace

Trust with caution, quell tears
when there are trials to bear

Never give up, don’t walk alone
sustain an inner calm at home

sorry for myself today
a bit of sad, a bit of grey

***

«A Dog Has Died» by Pablo Neruda

My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.

Some day I’ll join him right there,
but now he’s gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I’ll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.

Ai, I’ll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.

No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he’d keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.

Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea’s movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean’s spray.

Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.

There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don’t now and never did lie to each other.

So now he’s gone and I buried him,
and that’s all there is to it.

***

«A Dream Within A Dream» by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone? 
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

***

«A Fairly Sad Tale» by Dorothy Parker

I think that I shall never know
Why I am thus, and I am so.
Around me, other girls inspire
In men the rush and roar of fire,
The sweet transparency of glass,
The tenderness of April grass,
The durability of granite;
But me- I don’t know how to plan it.
The lads I’ve met in Cupid’s deadlock
Were- shall we say?- born out of wedlock.
They broke my heart, they stilled my song,
And said they had to run along,
Explaining, so to sop my tears,
First came their parents or careers.
But ever does experience
Deny me wisdom, calm, and sense!
Though she’s a fool who seeks to capture
The twenty-first fine, careless rapture,
I must go on, till ends my rope,
Who from my birth was cursed with hope.
A heart in half is chaste, archaic;
But mine resembles a mosaic-
The thing’s become ridiculous!
Why am I so? Why am I thus?

***

«A Hero» by Robert W. Service

Three times I had the lust to kill,
To clutch a throat so young and fair,
And squeeze with all my might until
No breath of being lingered there.
Three times I drove the demon out,
Though on my brow was evil sweat. . . .
And yet I know beyond a doubt
He’ll get me yet, he’ll get me yet.

I know I’m mad, I ought to tell
The doctors, let them care for me,
Confine me in a padded cell
And never, never set me free;
But Oh how cruel that would be!
For I am young – and comely too . . .
Yet dim my demon I can see,
And there is but one thing to do.

Three times I beat the foul fiend back;
The fourth, I know he will prevail,
And so I’ll seek the railway track
And lay my head upon the rail,
And sight the dark and distant train,
And hear its thunder louder roll,
Coming to crush my cursed brain . . .
Oh God, have mercy on my soul!

***

«A Legacy Of Love» by Anna Mckenzie

As darkness slowly seeps into the air
The September Sun sinks further into the pillows
That are made of mountains
I feel drawn to the night
Which I once so fiercely fought.

Velvety soft wings envelop me
And my heart is full of you.

If tomorrow comes without me
If the darkness should carry me softly away
If I have heard my last dawn chorus,
Seen my last bright sunrise, lived my last sweet day

Wrap my love around you like a blanket
When winter comes, to keep you warm.
And forgive me that I am not with you.
Let my love carry you through the storm.

***

«A Letter For Michael» by Misty Rayne

Our lives were shared
Until our teens
And later, too,
Our lives had been
Intertwined and crossed
The proper moves you taught
A gift of defense you gave
To save me from naivete’
Golden Gloves you once were
Made you full of spunk and sure
The boy you were, the man you became
We shared our lives then, but not the same
Know forever the love we shared
Did not die when from us you erred
The boy we knew and adored
Lost to sadness we abhorred
The choices of life open to all
The paths we take, to rise or fall
My heart is heavy for what is lost
The road you took has been the cost
For, the one I knew in memory
Is now forever gone from me
The life of the child is held within
I ache for the life that should have been
Now in your Mother’s embrace once more
Unconditional love for you she bore
Her beloved child without the pain
She has taken you home to Heaven’s lane.

***

«A Place That Rekindles A Sad Memory» by Francis Duggan

The deep, deep emptiness of solitude
That drives one to a melancholy mood
I stand here on green bank of riverside
With thoughts on recent victim of suicide.

A month ago on evening bright and cool
He came here to this deep dark river pool
And jumped in knowing well he couldn’t swim
And not a soul around to rescue him.

He’d lost the will to live he chose to die
In this lone place far from the public eye
Depressive mood cruel form of mental pain
For one so young had proved too much a strain.

Due to his crave for heroin and cocaine
He’d brought upon himself unwanted shame
And a life of crime the man was forced to lead
And from others he stole for to satisfy his need.

I knew him well which makes it all more sad,
He was good type in him there was no bad
But far too many perverse types at large nowaday
And drug pusher sent him going the wrong way.

A broken hearted widow still in tears
For her only son who died aged twenty years
But though heavy be the burden of her cross
The passing of time will ease her pain of loss.

***

«A Sad Child» by Margaret Atwood

You’re sad because you’re sad.
It’s psychic. It’s the age. It’s chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.

Well, all children are sad
but some get over it.
Count your blessings. Better than that,
buy a hat. Buy a coat or pet.
Take up dancing to forget.

Forget what?
Your sadness, your shadow,
whatever it was that was done to you
the day of the lawn party
when you came inside flushed with the sun,
your mouth sulky with sugar,
in your new dress with the ribbon
and the ice-cream smear,
and said to yourself in the bathroom,
I am not the favorite child.

My darling, when it comes
right down to it
and the light fails and the fog rolls in
and you’re trapped in your overturned body
under a blanket or burning car,

and the red flame is seeping out of you
and igniting the tarmac beside your head
or else the floor, or else the pillow,
none of us is;
or else we all are.

***

«A Sad One Sided Story» by Guarded Heart

I am honored to have been your one and only
To have been the love of your life
But your so unfocused lately, that all i am is lonely
Your busy with other things in your life
And no matter where i stand, i’ll always be supporting
But it’s all so hard on me, and it affects how you treat me
The tone in which you talk to me and the way you ignore me
Yes i still care for you, but right now i need someone who
Can focus on me and appreciate me
This all feels so strange, for we don’t part on bad ways
And if you could only see the tears coming down my face, feel my pain
If you walked into this room right now, i would forget it all
And melt into you, take you away with me
But your not here, and you can’t help it
And we have a problem that may be beyond our solving
I’m not mentally stable to take it all again
Better stop now, while i’m beginning to go numb
There are so many things here that remind me of you
That old brown blanket, the strawberry incense, that sexy little outfit
Eventually i’ll stop crying, i want you to be happy
To many songs remind me of you or us
The memories are overpowering
I can still picture your face, when your sleeping
As my tears splash on the page
I know what is happening, i can feel my heart break
Into a few more pieces, and i want you to know that you always had me
And should have trusted me, because i was always there
And i was always loving, always in love with you

***

«A Sad Return» by David Harris

There are many sad tales
of trains taking people away,
either to fight a war
or just to runaway.
As the train pulled into the station yesterday
there disembarked a passenger
who had been for a long time
on far distant shores.
Coming home to see his family
after years of being away.
He ran along to his door,
tried to inser his key into the lock,
but the key no longer fit.
He knocked on the door.
Strange faces answered it
of people he did not know.
He asked about his wife and son
who used to live there
not all that long ago.
The couple looked at each other
and offered him in for a cup of tea.
When he was comfortable,
they broke the sad news to him.
His wife and son were no longer living
because she could not live without him
she took her own life and their son as well.
He would find their graves
in the cemetery at the bottom of the hill.
As he places some flowers on their graves,
he said a little prayer
for God to look after them
until he too would meet them
at heaven’s door.

***

«A Sad Story» by Joyce Hemsley

The river flowed through meadows green
I saw the wild rose, pink and serene.
There came a voice from beyond the blue,
An angel from heaven said – it was you.

Resting beneath the rays of the sun,
I gazed at the sky to talk with my one.
The breezes blew sweet whispers to me
Across the mountain and waves of the sea.

The hymn you sang was ‘O Love Divine’
I heard your dear voice and you heard mine.
But as the sun went down in the evening sky
There was no sound…just your last goodbye.

***

«A Terrible Pain» by Janice M Pickett

Your Pain is really showing
I have felt it in my heart
I have something good to tell you
although we’re worlds apart
Please listen to this message
I know my words are true
Here they are so read them
they are especially for you

Strength comes from within you
Happiness is your right
you do NOT have to feel the pain
you do NOT have to fight
Just hold your head up and be strong
To yourself be true
inside there is another girl
the one you never knew
She’s strong and really gorgeous
She’s the one you need to see
Remember to look and find her
she will set your spirits free

Don’t forget to greet her
and say a warm hello
let her out and free her
let your spirit grow
She waits there in your being
dormant for so long
believe in what you’re seeing
and sing a freedom song

The guilt you carry with you
is holding you in chains
it’s not your fault
forgive yourself
for the problem still remains
you need to find your children
you can’t do it if you’re low
so lift yourself from the hell you feel
You have to let it go
Positive thinking and a plan
will make your days feel better
come on girl you can do it
a fighter, a true go-getter
for in that fight is victory
something you have yet to learn
then you will have the happiness
for which you truly yearn

***

«Acquainted With The Night» by Robert Frost

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night

***

«All I Have Ever Known» by Ashley Bahr

It’s time for us to leave,
But I wish that we could wait.
This has been dreaded for too long,
And I’m not ready for this pain.

But before we leave each other,
Before we have to go,
There’s something I must say,
Some things you need to know.

You’re all I ever wanted,
The one thing I needed,
The only one who could find
The very best in me.

The only one who saw
My empty, broken heart
And worked your way right in
To fix the broken parts.

You are my everything,
And I hope that you can see
You’re everything I asked for,
Just what I needed you to be.

I hope you’ll always know
There is a special part
Saved up just for you
Right here in my heart.

Deep down, we both knew
This ending would come at last,
And now that it is here,
It’s happening way too fast.

Everything we had
Will soon be lost in time.
The memories will fade,
But I’ll remember this goodbye.

It breaks my heart to know
I won’t see you ever again.
These are our last moments,
And they’re coming to an end.

If you don’t remember this,
Then just before you go,
Get this one last thing.
This you have to know.

You’re the first one I let in
And the first I’m letting go.
I will love you always.
Your love is all I’ve ever known.

***

«Alone» by Edgar Allan Poe

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ‘round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—

***

«Alone» by Maya Angelou

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don’t believe I’m wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can’t use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They’ve got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I’ll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

***

«Alone In The Dark» by Gillian Craig

I’ve never felt so alone.
The tears stream down my face.
I only want to feel you
And lie there in my space.

I sit here in the darkness
And long to hear your voice.
There’s nothing I can do now;
Perhaps you’ve made your choice.

My heart will always love you;
You’ll always be the one.
I won’t ever forget you.
What more could I have done?

You used to call me Angel
And comfort me while I’d cry.
That is all I wanted.
Instead, I heard goodbye.

***

«Among the Tranquil Graves» by Aaron Barth-Martinson

You walk among the tranquil graves
To take away a piece of their peace,
Swirling cheap but colorful wine,
Sipping it thoughtfully quaint quite quietly.

I know you have songs sleeping deep in your heart,
When you were young you wrote beautiful poems;
Though I never read one, your steadfast gaze on your goals
Says to me, just to me, soon you will slow down.

To envelop what you alone can engrave,
To be present when you steal by those stone faces,
To remove the golden stillness from their houses,
To paint windows in the clouds with their silver etchings;

View the rain, before it pours—while it is stored.
Witness thunder prior to the boom,
Can you see the soundless scene within that room?
Where everything you’ve done comes back to prove

The sequences of this world are not making you.
Tell me you have not written a word since your neglected youth,
But laugh with a smile stained red with wine, when you learn the truth.
You are writing as you walk among the tranquil graves.

***

«An Irish Airman Foresees His Death» by William Butler Yeats

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

***

«Angel Teardrops» by Kathleen Sheppard

My guardian angel, once careless and free,
flew into the clouds and lost touch with me.
Her tears were cold and wet, falling on my face.
Her smile had left us without a trace.

Her angelic lips quivered, frozen and scared,
I felt rain clouds visiting, and had to prepare.
I knew that angels, often content,
were very special presents that God had sent.

To see one so sad,
so afraid,
so alone,
had made me weep while the cold winds had blown.

Her wings lost feathers,
comforting and soft,
falling from the stars,
floating aloft.

Her pain was felt throughout the land,
to feel true misery is impossible to stand.
I prayed so that when her hurting stops,
I’ll be able to taste the angel’s teardrops.

***

«Be A Memory» by Joanna Fuchs

My life is different now.
I like it; some of it.
Much more time, lots of freedom,
but you
keep wandering into my thoughts.
I feel a pang, a little stab of pain,
when I think of the good times,
even the  not-so-good times.
I really want to own this new life.
Could you just be a memory?
Please?

***

«Because» by Ron Carnell

I write of love and loneliness,
Amidst my years of emptiness,
And wonder where the wonder went,
Because these things I know.

I pen lost words of happiness,
Found in the arms of loveliness,
And wish my wish were never sent,
Because she told me no.

I kneel below the loftiness,
Enraptured by my dizziness,
A victim of my swift descent,
Because I fell so low.

My rhymes have all turned venomous,
To twisted words of dreariness,
I hate the hate I never meant,
Because I hated so.

Yet still I write in artlessness,
Of feelings felt in happiness,
Of times past time I never lament
Because I can’t let go.

***

«Believing» by Tess Templer

How could you think that l wouldn’t know,
When we’re so close?
The lies – The deception.
How could you think they wouldn’t show?

So you want to live in a fantasy world?
Go Ahead – I don’t care.
Say the words you said were just for me,
When some other girl is there?

Someone told me, but l didn’t believe it.
Just bitchin’ – Wasn’t true.
Discontentment and jealousy talking,
Of the love l had for you.

So go on with the pretense, Babe.
World’s a stage. We’re actors too.
Go on believing your illusion,
While l believe in my dream too.

***

«Bereft» by Misty Rayne

Within this burdened breast
lies a heavy saddened heart,
this weight tortures rest
of it you were a part.

Now torn from my grasp,
forever it would seem,
this loneliness to never lapse
so empty have I been.

Once more, your embrace I need
to dispel this wretched grief.
From it I must be freed,
with your compassion my relief.

Come back and take my hand
to comfort and to hold,
end my devastation, if you can,
and soothe my aching soul.

***

«Bored And Sad» by Mikhail Lermontov

It’s boring and sad, and there’s no one around
In times of my spirit’s travail…
Desires!…What use is our vain and eternal desire?..
While years pass on by – all the best years!

To love…but love whom?.. a short love is vexing,
And permanent love’s just a myth.
Perhaps look within? – The past’s left no trace:
All trivial, joys and distress…

What good are the passions? For sooner or later
Their sweet sickness ends when reason speaks up;
And life, if surveyed with cold-blooded regard,-
Is stupid and empty – a joke…

***

«Broken» by Debbie Dixon

I see me sitting sadly in the corner
Knees drawn up tightly to my chest.
Mind and body wreaked in sorrow
As tears course down my face.
I pray to a God I don’t believe in
Yet I curse him in the same breath.
I look at me with narrowed eyes
Pitying the sorry creature I have become.
I look into my wretched soul
Cursing the emptiness inside.
Emptiness put there by my own stupidity.
As I stand over the huddling form of myself
I see I have gotten what I deserved from life.
I had no right to the beautiful love we shared
When the love rightfully belonged to her.
Sadly I watch the shell of myself slowly cracking
Oozing out all the pain and misery within my soul.
There on top of all the shattered pieces
Lay my beating heart, all alone.
I gently pick it up and place it where it belongs.
May it rest in peace forever.

***

«Cheating And Lies» by Meagen Deitz

Would you care if we quit talking?
Would you care if I went walking?
I need to know how you feel
So I know how to deal.
I like it when you’re by my side.
I hate it when you try to hide
All the cheating and the lies
Bring me one step closer to saying goodbye.
I know the cheating is a fact
because I’ve caught you in the act.
I wish I had more trust in you,
but it’s kinda hard when I busted you.
Seems to me you wouldn’t care
even if I weren’t there.
I always wonder who you’re with,
hoping it’s not another chick.
I’m not saying I don’t believe you.
Too many people have told me to leave you,
but you are everything to me,
which is why I want you me to always be.
Believing you may be a mistake,
but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
I really love you; always know I do,
and remember there will always be a me and you.

***

«Circus In Three Rings» by Sylvia Plath

In the circus tent of a hurricane
designed by a drunken god
my extravagant heart blows up again
in a rampage of champagne-colored rain
and the fragments whir like a weather vane
while the angels all applaud.

Daring as death and debonair
I invade my lion’s den;
a rose of jeopardy flames in my hair
yet I flourish my whip with a fatal flair
defending my perilous wounds with a chair
while the gnawings of love begin.

Mocking as Mephistopheles,
eclipsed by magician’s disguise,
my demon of doom tilts on a trapeze,
winged rabbits revolving about his knees,
only to vanish with devilish ease
in a smoke that sears my eyes.

***

«Complete Emptiness» by Amanda Rae M.

I had once thought
that maybe this was life.
No love, no hate, no feelings.
My deepest feelings would never be shared.
I was so frightened,
I didn’t know what to do.
Scared of this one man all my life.
Face my fear, I told myself!
But it’s so hard, so confusing.
Do you know what it’s like
to wonder in darkness?
It never stops, never ends.
It goes on like a story with no ending.
Do you know how it feels
to be afraid of something
that you can’t do anything about?
That you didn’t ask for or even think about?
Do you know what it’s like? Do you know how it feels?
It’s complete and pure emptiness.

***

«Confessions Of A Broken Heart» by John Laset

Pain… Tension… Fatigue…
Depression…
Anger, Aggression, Frustration.
All these unwanted sensations –
Burning, hurting, tearing.
My heart alone, cold and fearing.
Why won’t you let me sleep, let me rest,
Let me forget
To eradicate, eliminate, destroy all my regrets?
These memories inside, swirling, twirling,
unwilling to reside in the corner of my mind.
Repeating, resisting, insisting –
Refusing to be denied its recognition
Of its position in my
Frustration, Confusion, Delusion.
Ah, to close my eyes and let time fly by,
Because there’s so much to gain
By forgetting these dreams driving me insane.
Unfocused, unclear, out of control,
My world spinning, spinning, spinning,
My sanity flying through the door.
My reason, my logic, oh, it’s tragic,
Like fine sands running through my hands,
I’m losing my mind.

***

«Daddy’s Indifference» by Amber Victoria

I thought I saw the child in you, Daddy.
Don’t you know what it’s like to be all alone?

I got my first bike today.
Oh, the stitches in my mouth…I’ll be okay

And did you know,
I really like Patsy Cline.

About what that man did to me, Daddy..
Don’t you worry, I’ll be strong.

You never told me that not everyone would like me, Daddy.
But, I guess I should have learned that from you

***

«Diving into the Wreck» by Adrienne Rich

First having read the book of myths,
and loaded the camera,
and checked the edge of the knife-blade,
I put on
the body-armor of black rubber
the absurd flippers
the grave and awkward mask.
I am having to do this
not like Cousteau with his
assiduous team
aboard the sun-flooded schooner
but here alone.

There is a ladder.
The ladder is always there
hanging innocently
close to the side of the schooner.
We know what it is for,
we who have used it.
Otherwise
it is a piece of maritime floss
some sundry equipment.

I go down.
Rung after rung and still
the oxygen immerses me
the blue light
the clear atoms
of our human air.
I go down.
My flippers cripple me,
I crawl like an insect down the ladder
and there is no one
to tell me when the ocean
will begin.

First the air is blue and then
it is bluer and then green and then
black I am blacking out and yet
my mask is powerful
it pumps my blood with power
the sea is another story
the sea is not a question of power
I have to learn alone
to turn my body without force
in the deep element.

And now: it is easy to forget
what I came for
among so many who have always
lived here
swaying their crenellated fans
between the reefs
and besides
you breathe differently down here.

I came to explore the wreck.
The words are purposes.
The words are maps.
I came to see the damage that was done
and the treasures that prevail.
I stroke the beam of my lamp
slowly along the flank
of something more permanent
than fish or weed

the thing I came for:
the wreck and not the story of the wreck
the thing itself and not the myth
the drowned face always staring
toward the sun
the evidence of damage
worn by salt and away into this threadbare beauty
the ribs of the disaster
curving their assertion
among the tentative haunters.

This is the place.
And I am here, the mermaid whose dark hair
streams black, the merman in his armored body.
We circle silently
about the wreck
we dive into the hold.
I am she: I am he

whose drowned face sleeps with open eyes
whose breasts still bear the stress
whose silver, copper, vermeil cargo lies
obscurely inside barrels
half-wedged and left to rot
we are the half-destroyed instruments
that once held to a course
the water-eaten log
the fouled compass

We are, I am, you are
by cowardice or courage
the one who find our way
back to this scene
carrying a knife, a camera
a book of myths
in which
our names do not appear.

***

«Do I Know You?» by Kathy Michael

Hi Grandma, How are you today?
Hello Honey, Do I know you?
Yes Grandma, it’s me.

This is how we start each conversation and end it too.
I’m sorry, do I know you?
You used to ask about school.
Now it’s, do I know you?

We use to discuss my future plans
or the trips you and gramps would plan.
Now I talk and on your response I can depend.

You were so active and full of joy.
Now you seem sad and angry.

For my visits you were so glad.
Now for the distraction you seem mad.

I too am mad at this disease that has us all so sad.
I’m sorry I disturbed you. I’ll be going now.
Excuse me, do I know you?
Isn’t it sad?

***

«Do You Know» by Michelle Boyd

Do you know a life of loneliness and one filled with pain,
living a life with nothing to gain,
Surrounded by darkness, overwhelmed with shame.
A life without peace with no one to blame.

Do you know of a place unseen,
A place that holds only shattered dreams,
A place filled with sorrow with no end in sight,
I am given this gift each and every night.

Do you know of a place so cold,
This is the place I call my soul,
A place without hope or comforting dreams,
A life not worth living wouldn’t it seem.

Do you know of a life that should have never been,
And the feeling that today this life has to end.
One more day of sadness is much too hard to bear,
I am tired of living a life of heartache and despair.

Do you know a person with so much pain inside,
Or the feeling of loneliness when no one hears your cries,
Maybe when the tears are gone and I can clearly see,
The only question left will be…
DO YOU KNOW ME

***

«Don’t Be Sad My Darling» by Victoria Hughes

I woke up one day
And you were gone.
The clouds had turned to grey,
I woke up and found
You had moved on,
No longer bringing sunshine my way.

I got up to a call
At the news of your passing
My breath caught in my throat,
I answered the phone
And heard you laughing
‘Don’t be sad my darling, don’t.

I am happy,
the old gang’s back together,
We are all as one,
And when the time comes
We’ll be there
When it is time for you to move on.

***

«Each Passing Moment» by Simon Agamemnon

All at once I must return
to the blue water,
before so comforting and yet
now strangely insufficient.
The knowledge of you,
too much to bear with
you so far away.

I dread the leaving,
and hate the coming distance,
the start of the grieving
for your love, for your love.

I return to our stars,
my link to you
and all they represented
of you, and me, of ourselves.
The scent of you
incensing me further, with
you not here today.

I dread the leaving
and hate the growing distance,
the start of the grieving
for more love, of your love.

The time is almost upon me
and leaving for even a moment,
tears my heart in two
with no hope of rejoining.
The thought of you
brings tears to my eyes,
stinging, streaming down my face.

I dread the leaving
and hate the cold distance,
the start of the grieving
for all of you and our love.

It’s here now, the time
I now die a little inside.
Like a flower denied his sunshine
I cower in the shadow of hopelessness
Waiting……Waiting for you.
The thought of your warmth
regenerates my petals
anticipating your touch,
your kiss and your grace.

I dread the maddening night,
I hate the cloudy skies
that deny me our stars
and, the look of love from your eyes.

***

«Ephemera» by Hazel Hall

THERE is a woman who makes my eye
A place of shadows, as now and then
I see her dimly going by,
And faintly coming back again.

She moves as many others move;
There is no uttrance in her tread
To tempt an echo, nor to prove
What other footsteps have not said.

As often as she comes and goes
She is forgotten, as now and then
The wind is forgotten until it blows
A blur of dust down the street again.

***

«Expectations» by Liza Marie

The burning feeling in my throat
The pain almost amounts to what I feel in my heart
But this time I inflicted this upon myself
Hoping at the same time I’ll improve all my flaws that turned you away
from me

I look upon myself in the mirror
I still don’t like what I see in front of me
I see the residue of you around my mouth
The remains of your kisses on my cheeks

I can feel your breath whispering across my face
It sourly reminds me of the harsh winter wind that struck my face the day
you left
The irritating memory of the scent of your clothes burn my nose
They sting like the fumes that float off a just stricken match

I can still feel you uncaring arms around my waist
I feel myself wrapped around your finger by your words
Bound and tied down by the deceiving lies you spoke
Paralyzed by the sweetness that captured my attention without a second
thought

I can sense your presence over me
Like a shadow that won’t go away
I feel as if I have no way out
No light to guide my path

I know that this won’t last forever
Just until the day that I’m ready to let you leave my mind
Obviously I’m not ready yet
For you have lingered in my thoughts ever since the day you left

I still dream of the day where I can live up to what you want me to be
The angel I never was
The angel I’m determined to be
Even though I know the day you’ll want me again is just a faint hope
inflicted by my imagination

Until then
I’m going to do my best, which might even be the worst thing I could ever
do
To become what I think that I am not, what I hope that I’m not
Which is something I’ll later regret

***

«Failure» by Shawn Pearson

To try and try and yet come up short,
to hang my head while giving report,
not able to make anything right,
turns brightest day to darkest night.
Amidst thoughts of strength to find myself weak
brings a gut-wrenching pain of which my heart cannot speak.

Failure has never been part of my plan.
I curse times I don’t, when I know that I can.
My standard, my goal, my hope is perfection,
yet I am met with regret, rebuke and rejection.
Failure is a companion I have grown to despise,
its taunts and its laughs are not found in your eyes.

In you I can see love, understanding and more.
You think me a winner regardless lifeis score.
When Iive nearly given up, drowning in failure,
you life my life, my sight, my plight to the Savior.
A loving like yours in this life is most glorious,
although I’m imperfect with you and Christ I’m victorious.

***

«Faithful, Unsure Love» by Shana Worthen

Through all the storms and struggles-
All the fights and tussles,
All the disrespect, and abuse,
My love was always true.

When you made me cry, made me feel unloved,
I was always there by your side.
No matter what you did or what you said,
I was proud to be your girl.

My love for you is greater than anything in this world.
You know that no one can love you like I do.
Everything we have been through,
I was faithful to you and only you.

I was your girl, your boo;
But all you ever did was treat me like garbage.
You said, “Baby, you know I love you.”
But true love doesn’t break my heart.

I tried and tried to look past it,
But the more I tried, the more I saw the real you.
All the lies, all the deceit,
You must have thought you were slick.

To love you more than anything
Would be ignorant on my part.
I can’t image my life without you,
But I can’t image my life with you.

I deserve more than what you give me,
Better than what I have now.
Growing up is something that you need to do.
My love for you is always there….
But my heart is moving on to better things.

***

«Fallen Warriors» by James W. Richardson

What ghosts walk these hallowed hills,
Where once the cry of battle reigned?
Who are these smoky misty forms that
By their blood this ground was stained?

Their cry of pain floats on the wind.
Echoing from the ridge,
Calling for aid and comfort, but alas,
The spans too wide to bridge.

Only God can help these souls who have
Fallen at the line,
Build no monument to these men, this
Ground shall be their shrine.

Let angels hover above the trees and
Guard these men of yore,
Kiss their cheeks and soothe their brow,
For death shall be no more.

***

«Farewell My Love» by Joanna Fuchs

Is it really true our love is over now?
Can it be time for us to say goodbye?
Too soon, it’s much too soon, my love, for me;
You smile with ease, but I can only sigh.

We’ve shared our lives and given so much love;
I can’t believe we’re really going to part;
You’re moving toward a new life without me;
I’m left with scars upon my broken heart.

Go on now, if you must; I’ll get along;
How much it hurts, I don’t want you to know.
I’ll set you free without inducing guilt,
But as you leave, the silent tears will flow.

I can’t be mad; I love you way too much;
I’ll hide my sadness now, so you can’t tell.
Sweet happiness is what I wish for you;
Farewell my love, I hope that you fare well.

***

«Feeling Sad Ineptitude» by Margaret Alice

Anne Fine is my favourite author of
all time, the way she explains life in
“How To Write Really Badly”

Where a mentally impaired child, with
only one exceptional gift for model-
making, suffers through school

The way I did, having been born into
a musical family; yet being unable to
play musical instruments

Hating lessons, feeling inferior, never
mastering the art I had to conquer
to be acknowledged in our family

The permanent feeling of failure, the ever-
present fear, knowing whatever I did would
never be good enough

The feeling still with me even though giving up
music ages ago – the feeling of sad ineptitude
never leaving again…

***

«Flash» by Hazel Hall

I am less of myself and more of the sun;
The beat of life is wearing me
To an incomplete oblivion,
Yet not to the certain dignity
Of death. They cannot even die
Who have not lived.

The hungry jaws
Of space snap at my unlearned eye,
And time tears in my flesh like claws.

If I am not life’s, if I am not death’s,
Out of chaos I must re-reap
The burden of untasted breaths.
Who has not waked may not yet sleep.

***

«For Love’s Sake» by Susan Christensen

I’m so tired of this empty feeling.
I’m so tired of being alone.
I lay here staring at the ceiling,
Waiting by the phone.

I jump when the phone rings.
It brings a smile to my face.
When he hangs up my heart stings,
And I sink back into my lonely place.

I wish and I dream
That we’ll be together soon.
I can’t wait until we can look up hand in hand
At the stars and at the moon.

I yearn for his kisses
His touch – His embrace.
I can’t wait for Thursdays
When I get to see his face.

I’m flooded with thoughts of him
In my heart, soul, and mind.
I imagine his touch,
So gentle and kind.

I try not to weep.
I hope he doesn’t hear my cries,
But I can’t stop the tears
Falling from my eyes.

I cry a thousand tears
And think – how much more can I take?
But in my heart I know I’d wait a thousand years
All for love’s sake.

***

«For my achondroplasic child» by Luciano R. Mendes

Your mother died of cancer, my child.
She died slowy, without drama
but with great agony.
That’s the answer I gave you when
you asked me why I never
finished writing my first romance.
You took your tiny
and deformed hands
to my face and touched my eyes
with love
and violence.
I stood, I went away: it was
time for your injection: growth
hormons from
men that are even more
dead
than me.

***

«Going To Be A Mother» by Ruwaida Van Doorsen

I face the future
Already planned for me
No nothing for me to expect
There is nothing to wait and see

For my destiny has been mapped out
I shall have no more youthful days
I shall never feel the thrill again
Of raucous, rebellious ways

I shall rear a child for eighteen years
Maybe even longer
For although I’m still a child myself
I’m going to be a mother

***

«Gone Forever» by Dane Yule

I miss the times when you were here,
Telling me to have no fear.
To hold my head up high and strong,
Add happy notes to my sad song.

I miss the way you look at me
As if I were too blind to see.
The path I’m on might hurt and scathe,
But all goes well if you just have faith.

I miss the sound of your sweet voice,
Through bitter times a saving noise
That told me what was right and wrong
But rang in my ears for far too long.

A caring person, you were such
Who helped and hurt me, oh so much.
You’d guide and mislead me through the day
You left me lonely when I’d rather you stay.

Over things like that you had no control.
A rock set in motion will continue to roll.
No matter how hard you tug and heave,
You were always pushed and forced to leave.

Then one day you never returned,
My tears so hot they almost burned.
Aware now about what I lack,
But crying and mourning won’t bring you back.

For me to let out what I need to say.
I can’t do much more than pray.
No longer am I weak; my heart’s quite strong
From adding a happy chorus to a sad, sad song.

***

«Good-Bye My Love» by Michael Beals

A thought we shared
A life we lived
A love we had together

Good times
Bad times
Nothing lasts forever

A broken heart
A tear I shed
Love can have much pain

For knowing you
For loving you
So much I have gained

God’s fairest child
An angel I have known
My soul you have touched

Good-bye my darling Cindy
It’s over but always remember
I had loved you so very much

***

«Happy & Sad» by Sumita Datta

Happy and Sad – never come together
They are very different in nature,

Happy is very cute, always smiling
Sad is just opposite, very depressing….

Sad is very jealous of Happy
The moment sad is in, Happy feels unsteady…

When Happy is with me, I am also very happy
But the moment Sad is in, I feel scared and shaky…

I just want to be alone, when I am with sad,
Though I know that he is very bad….

I know I can’t escape from sad
If I try to run away, I will go mad…

So, I try to react normal, irrespective of each other
I know that one is going to come after another…

***

«Her Kind» by Anne Sexton

I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.

***

«Hope From Heart» by Tara Ong

I write this poem for you to read,
with heartache that will forever bleed.
I wish things were so different.
Sadly, this is what you’ve made of me.
I sit here alone day by day,
realizing my life is better off this way.
I admit I still hurt from all your lies,
yet you’ll never hear my cries.
You once made my world stand tall and proud.
Now what’s left has crumbled down.
Something good has come of this,
One more chance to find true happiness.
I guess this is goodbye, and so it shall be,
wishing for your love was foolish of me.
I will move on, which was too easy for you.
I wrote this poem hoping you’d feel heartache too.

***

«How It Used To Be» by Melanie Edwards

I remember how it used to be
when nothing else matter but you and me.
Music, country roads, and future dreams.

I miss you, I wish you could see.
Although you are here, I miss you and me.

I remember when you said how happy I made you,
and you really meant it…now, it’s just a phrase
you say without thinking.

I miss those days when you’d call just to say, “Hi,”
or, “I love you.” Those days it was so hard
just to say good-bye for a while.

I remember how wonderful it felt the first time
you held me in your arms, and how after all those
years you still made my heart melt.

I miss the old you and the old me,
The old us that could just sit and talk for hours
and never run out of things to say.

I remember when time simply stood still,
when in each other’s arms was the only place
we wanted to be…forever.

I miss us as I remember how it used to be…
when nothing else mattered but you and me.

***

«How Sad» by Barry Van Allen

Away from me she runs,
and after her I go,
as reminders of the past are found again.

Sometimes it’s worth the walk,
to stroll down memory lane,
but mostly, it is just not worth the pain.

The loves my life has known are not forgotten,
‘nor are the lessons taught to me by those once dear,
I have never known a love that’s just gone rotten,
but, I’ve had many loves just die from simple fear.

So, who’s afraid today?
is it you or is it me?
or… is it both of us,
and both refuse to see?

Within the recent past we’ve known the laughter,
and now you know a slice of me that even I don’t,
and yes, we ask ourselves ‘ Is this what we were after? ‘,
and in the asking, have we doomed the love we’ve known?

It does not grow, so then we know it must be bad,
we have misplaced the love that once we truly had,
in a way we are together going mad,
… Oh! , Dear – – – How sad!

***

«How Sad Can Be This Life» by Francis Duggan

I’ve often thought how sad can be this life
The man is separating from his wife
And she in hospital not feeling well
For some ’tis rough and living can be hell.

Their little boy is only three years old
And he’s autistic so i have been told
And social workers of him taking care
If there’s a God then he’s not always fair.

And it’s been said the mother well may die
And if so what’s going to happen to the boy?
He needs his mum more than he needs his dad
Just thinking of it seems so very sad.

A little boy with blue eyes and blond hair
Of sadness that surround him unaware
He smiles and takes the social worker’s hand
‘He’s lucky he’s too young to understand’.

I often think how sad this life can be
And sadness all around me i can see
On a hospital bed an ailing young mother lie
And worry for her baby as she die.

***

«I Cry» by Susan Christensen

I’m sitting on the porch,
Wind blowing through my hair.
The ducks are frolicking in the pond,
But I just can’t seem to care.

Life goes on around me.
I don’t participate.
I go through all the motions,
But what I really do is wait.

I dream about the day
That you’ll come home to me.
Nothing else is important.
Why can’t people see?

I don’t want to go out.
I don’t want to have fun.
I don’t want to do a thing
Until all is said and done.

They took you in the summer.
Now fall is almost finished.
Winter will be here very soon,
And then the year will have diminished.

You have no idea how much I cry.
I never let you know.
It’s so hard out here without you,
But I’m not allowed to let it show.

I must pretend all is fine.
Everyone thinks all’s okay,
But what I never ever tell them
Is that I cry for you every day.

***

«I Dreamed That I Was Old» by Stanley Kunitz

I dreamed that I was old: in stale declension
Fallen from my prime, when company
Was mine, cat-nimbleness, and green invention,
Before time took my leafy hours away.

My wisdom, ripe with body’s ruin, found
Itself tart recompense for what was lost
In false exchange: since wisdom in the ground
Has no apocalypse or pentecost.

I wept for my youth, sweet passionate young thought,
And cozy women dead that by my side
Once lay: I wept with bitter longing, not
Remembering how in my youth I cried.

***

«I Hide To Cry» by Veronica Ann Cech

I hide to cry
because I have no where to call my own
and “happily ever after” is a land too far away,
just after once- upon- a- time; just this side of the rainbow

and no one really cares anyway

I hide to cry
because I know I will never leave this place
and dreams don’t really come true
its just all make- believe

and it really doesn’t matter

I hide to cry
because my weakness brings my tears
and I have no one to hold me close
no one here who loves me

and no one really cares anyway

I hide to cry
because I embarrass the moon
and she is my only friend
but she’s too far away to hold my hand

and it really doesn’t matter anyway

I hide to cry
because no one really cares anyway
and is this pain even real
it really doesn’t matter

and no one really cares anyway

I hide to cry
because no one validates my pain
and no one really cares
so why should I

and it really doesn’t matter anyway

***

«I Love You And Goodbye» by Nadine Sandalo

Not once did I expect this to happen.
Never in my wildest dream have I’ve fallen,
For a boy who wasn’t my prince charming
Nor to someone who is my friend.

It must have been your sweetness that melted my heart
Or your gentle smile that could be the start.
Whatever the reason for me to feel this way,
One thing I know – this strange feeling grows stronger everyday.

All this time I’ve been praying
For you to see and look at me as a lady.
Every now and then I woke up dreaming
That I could be your girl, not just a friend.

Then reality broke me into pieces
It wounded me badly as it came to my senses
That you belong to someone else,
And I’m left alone with all this heartache.

A few might have a clue,
But nobody knows the pain I’ve been through.
They can’t guess the sleepless nights
Nor count the tears I’ve cried.

My friends see me smiling and laughing,
Yet deep inside there’s no place for denying.
I know I have to surrender and let go –
At least to cease and ease the misery.

Still I’d be happy,
Because happiness means seeing you being one.
And let me say this for once, I love you!
But I love you more, so goodbye…

***

«I Measure Every Grief I Meet» by Emily Dickinson

I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, eyes –
I wonder if It weighs like Mine –
Or has an Easier size.

I wonder if They bore it long –
Or did it just begin –
I could not tell the Date of Mine –
It feels so old a pain –

I wonder if it hurts to live –
And if They have to try –
And whether – could They choose between –
It would not be – to die –

I note that Some – gone patient long –
At length, renew their smile – 
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil –

I wonder if when Years have piled – 
Some Thousands – on the Harm – 
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm – 

Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve –
Enlightened to a larger Pain – 
In Contrast with the Love – 

The Grieved – are many – I am told – 
There is the various Cause – 
Death – is but one – and comes but once – 
And only nails the eyes – 

There’s Grief of Want – and grief of Cold – 
A sort they call “Despair” – 
There’s Banishment from native Eyes –
In sight of Native Air – 

And though I may not guess the kind – 
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary – 

To note the fashions – of the Cross – 
And how they’re mostly worn – 
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like my own –

***

«I Saw You» by Jodie Scheitel

I saw you last night
With a girl
In your car.

Did you see me?
I wonder
Did you see?

She was beautiful –
Long, straight blonde hair
Thin, beautiful.

As I stared into your car,
Your eyes fixed on her,
I prayed.

I prayed
God would make a switch –
Replace her with me.

Did you see me?
I wonder,
Did you see?

I knew, though,
That God
Would not answer that prayer.

I was not alone.
I wished I was;
I wished he would go away.

Did you see me?
I wonder
Did you see?

As the light turned green
I took another look;
I laughed uneasily.

I wished again
For God to make a switch;
To replace her with me.

Did you see me?
I wonder
Did you see?

I wished you would look at me
The way you looked at her;
I wished you still loved me.

I wished you would touch me
The way you touched her;
I wished you still loved me.

Did you see me?
I wonder
Did you see?

I know now –
I guess I’ve always known;
It’s over.

I’ll never feel your love;
I’ll never feel your touch;
I’ll never hold you in my arms
The way I want to so much.

So, again I wonder
As I sit here all alone,

Did you see me?
I wonder
Did you see?

***

«I Sing A Sad Song» by Dorothy Holmes

I sing a sad song for the cold, lonely
Moments no one will admit to aloud.

I sing a sad song for all of the broken
Promises,
Wrought by circumstances beyond
Anyone’s control.

I sing a sad song for the faces pressing
Against the window panes in longing.

I sing a sad song for wild anticipation
Of days that never come.

I sing a sad song for the telephone
That never rings enough.

I sing a sad song for dreams woven of
Hopeless illusions.

I sing a sad song for all of those who
Waste time, singing sad songs!

***

«I Sit And Look Out» by Walt Whitman

I SIT and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all
        oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with
        themselves, remorseful after deeds done;
I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying,
        neglected, gaunt, desperate;
I see the wife misused by her husband—I see the treacherous seducer
        of young women;
I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love, attempted to be
        hid—I see these sights on the earth;
I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny—I see martyrs and
        prisoners;
I observe a famine at sea—I observe the sailors casting lots who
        shall be kill’d, to preserve the lives of the rest;
I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons upon
        laborers, the poor, and upon negroes, and the like;
All these—All the meanness and agony without end, I sitting, look
        out upon,
See, hear, and am silent.

***

«I Still Miss You» by Angela Craig

This yearning in my heart
This confusion in my mind
The words left unspoken
Haunts me all the time

Everyday I watch pass by
With an emptiness in my life
And a hole in my heart
Where only you belong

There are nights I wake up crying
And wishing you were here
To hold me in your arms
And kiss away my tears

There is something that keeps me holding on –
What I’ll never know
But one day things will go my way
And I’ll have you in my arms

***

« I Tried So Hard» by Whitney Barton

I tried my best.
I gave you my all,
And now there’s nothing left.

You stole my heart
Then tore it in two.
Now I’m falling apart
And don’t know what to do.

Divided by decisions,
Burned by the fire,
Confused by your words,
Tempted by desire.

I’m living in the present.
My mind is on the past.
Not knowing what I’ll lose,
Not knowing what will last.

Blinded by fear,
Drowning in doubt,
Struggling to be free,
Looking for a way out.

***

«If I’d Never Met You» by Joanna Fuchs

If I’d never met you,
I wouldn’t feel the pain
Of losing your sweet love;
I wouldn’t feel insane.

But if I’d never met you,
I wouldn’t know the pleasure
Of ecstasy’s warm gifts
And memories to treasure.

Now moving on with life,
I force a wistful grin,
Questioning what went wrong,
Wondering what might have been.

***

«If Only» by Joanna Fuchs

If only I had done the things
That keep true love alive,
I wouldn’t have to acknowledge now
That our love cannot survive.

If only I had described to you
The joy you brought to me,
Instead of bringing you complaints,
You wouldn’t have set me free.

If I had touched you, kissed you, Love,
If I had loved you stronger,
If I had appreciated you,
We would have lasted longer.

If I had often said to you,
“It’s you whom I adore,”
Perhaps you’d still be with me now,
If I had told you more.

If only I had treated you
As if we were best friends,
I wouldn’t be alone in grief,
As our faded love finally ends.

If only I didn’t have to say,
“If only, my love, if only,”
I wouldn’t be all by myself
So sorry, sad and lonely.

***

«If Raindrops Were Tears» by Joanna Fuchs

If raindrops were tears
And it rained every day,
The rain couldn’t wash
My heartache away.

You’re still my ideal;
My love never dies,
But it cuts to the bone–
What I see in your eyes.

You want me to stop;
You want to be friends,
But you’ll be my true love
Until breath and life ends.

***

«If These Walls Could Talk» by Christelle Duvenage

If these walls could talk,
you’d know my body is dead,
my mind has been taken over,
that’s why I am so scared,
I can’t control it,
anger is making me blind,
I’ve been left here on my own
chained to a hate of some kind.
If these walls could talk.

If these walls could talk,
you’d know about my fears,
about all those nights I screamed for help,
about all my fallen tears.
You’d know about the demons
haunting me at night,
you’d be able to help me
keep my fire alight,
if these walls could talk.

If these walls could talk
they would say that it’s all right,
God sends His angels
to look over me at night.
They’d encourage me,
say though I am alone
it doesn’t mean I’m on my own.
He watches me, from above
and showers me with all His love,
if only these walls could talk.

***

«In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad» by Alfred Edward Housman

In my own shire, if I was sad,
Homely comforters I had:
The earth, because my heart was sore,
Sorrowed for the son she bore;
And standing hills, long to remain,
Shared their short-lived comrade’s pain.
And bound for the same bourn as I,
On every road I wandered by,
Trod beside me, close and dear,
The beautiful and death-struck year:
Whether in the woodland brown
I heard the beechnut rustle down,
And saw the purple crocus pale
Flower about the autumn dale;
Or littering far the fields of May
Lady-smocks a-bleaching lay,
And like a skylit water stood
The bluebells in the azured wood.

Yonder, lightening other loads,
The seasons range the country roads,
But here in London streets I ken
No such helpmates, only men;
And these are not in plight to bear,
If they would, another’s care.
They have enough as ’tis: I see
In many an eye that measures me
The mortal sickness of a mind
Too unhappy to be kind.
Undone with misery, all they can
Is to hate their fellow man;
And till they drop they needs must still
Look at you and wish you ill.

***

«In Valid Feelings» by Lloyd Klumpp

Within you was a burning need
I could not satisfy.
My broken seed would not allow
The joining of our essence.

So we turned to science
To find a way to mimic
Or bypass natures tools,
And give us new life.

High with hopes and full of love
We learned of methods used.
Of ova, sperm and embryo,
Of ultrasound and drugs.

But soon reality crushed us.
There was no excitement here.
Instead of flesh and pleasure
There was cold hard steel and pain.

I can’t erase the etching
Scraped into my mind,
Of the needles given to you,
Some driven by my hand.

Your tears of pain were echoed
In every part of me.
Each stab a mortal wound
To our unity once strong.

The spark was then rekindled
When under the microscope
We saw groups of cells,
Clumped together,
Fusions of you and I.

An agonizing wait,
A nervous phone call made.
Soaring hope came crashing down.
Those tiny threads of life were no more,
Lost,
Gone.

Emptiness invaded us
Shattering dreams of if.
Grief pervading every breath
Despite the briefness of that flicker.

We mourned the passing
Of those tiny lives made of us,
Then buried the remains
Of all that once was ‘we’.

Your need remains unfulfilled.
My guilt is justified.

***

«Is It Enough?» by Joanna Fuchs

When we converse, it’s just surface stuff;
We say some words, but is it enough?
We get along; we rarely fight,
But where is the spark, the joy, the delight?

We’re settled into the same routine;
Sometimes I’d like to flee this scene.
Everything’s easy; we don’t have it rough,
But sometimes I wonder: Is it enough?

***

«Is This What Love Is?» by Joanna Fuchs

Is this all we have together?
Is this what love really is,
Yelling through a quarrel
And making up with a kiss?

Why can’t we get along?
Why do we have to fight?
We starve true love by day
And feed lust all through the night.

I wish we’d settle down;
I wonder where peace went.
Why do we pick at each other;
Why can’t we be content?

If this is what love is,
If tenderness has flown,
I’m thinking more and more,
It’s better to be alone.

***

«It’s His Fault» by Amanda Grey

Why do you beat yourself up
because you had the courage to love,
gave all of yourself in hopes that he was the one?

Why do you beat yourself up
when it was his choice to be unfaithful,
his choice to hurt you?

Why do you beat yourself up,
knowing that you had done everything for him,
supported him, comforted him,
loved him more than you loved yourself?

Why, after his lies and deceit,
do you still love him and want him to love you?
Why, after the repeat of hurt and trust being lost,
do you think that he deserves a love as pure as yours?

Why do you beat yourself up
over what you could have done better
when you know deep down there was nothing?

What makes you search for answers as to why
when they will not change the past
nor mend your broken heart?

Why, when a man decides to cheat, do we blame ourselves?
Why does it make us question every little detail about who we are,
make us think that we are not worthy of love?

Why, when a man cheats, do we still long for him to change,
realize how wrong he was, and fall in love with us again?

Why do you beat yourself up,
when you deserve more,
when all that you have done is loved someone completely?

Give yourself time, and the pain will subside,
and the mourning will cease.
You will see that you are still you,
still wonderful, beautiful you

Nothing has changed except your experience in love
and your determination to share love with another.

As you can never truly love someone
until you learn to love yourself.

***

«It’s Sad How Things Come To An End» by Chanel Jackson

It’s sad how things
Especially good things come to an end
But they must
So that we may start a new beginning
Learn new lessons
And enforce old ones
Change the things we can
And accept the things we cannot
We need to move on
In order to see
The great things that may become of me
And of you
Trial after trial
Error after error
It is how we become anew
Yet remain the same
Because it is ourselves we stay true
So although we may be sad to see it leave
We must let it go for it has done its part
And greet the new that will strengthen our heart

***

«January’s Sad Refrain» by Teresa Dearing

Gone, the last holiday,
Another year passed away.
Now our taxes we must pay,
Cold and gray marks the day.

Barren trees and icy ground,
Not much pleasure to be found,
Winter holds us in its grip,
As icy winds howl and rip.

Move with caution all a-round,
Train whistles a lonly sound.
If only I was half my age,
I’d ride to warmth, with my wage.

But for now I will light the fire,
And spin warm dreams as I retire,
To dream of sun that burns like fire,
Of heat and sweat that I’ll soon tire.

Oh, please just let the winter pass,
For now I long to mow the grass.
Human nature’s a fickle lass,
We long for what we can not grasp.

We may wish this time to past,
But life’s time moves much too fast.
So look for joy, ignore the cold and pain,
We all know January’s sad refrain.

***

«Let the Past Die» by William Ellery Leonard

Friends tell me (friends in life and books well read):
” Let your Past die with all its grief and riot. ”
Let the Past die! — The past is never dead!
Not at high noon! Not in the starry quiet!
My Past is gesturing in this limp you pity,
And whitens in this scar against the blast,
And not a tree, a book, a song, a city,
But has to-day its meaning from my Past.
There is, good friends, scant wisdom in this ” letting ” ;
I am my past so long as I am I;
And in a brave reshaping, not forgetting,
Is my one hope and action not to die:
The Past that might have killed me if it could
I sternly mold to art and hardihood.

***

«Letting Go» by Judy Burnette

How do you walk away from someone you love
And take the road of friend;
Can you reroute the course you have taken
And start over once again?

I don’t really want to let you go
But inside me I know I must;
The times we’ve loved . . . the times you’ve left
My heart says stay . . . but it’s my mind I must trust.

We have shared so much together
Laughter . . . fun times . . . tears;
Yet sometimes we can’t turn back time
We must walk away, and allow ourselves to heal.

I know one day you will be happy
And your soulmate you will find;
I know we each have one out there
Even if for now . . . only in our minds.

May life be gentle with you
May God’s best come your way;
And on some quiet tomorrow
You will realize things were better this way.

***

«Lies» by Stanley Naber

Lies hurt more
than the truth
why do I live
in self pity
and expect disappointment
more then optimism
or does enjoyment
lead me to new
worlds which I can not
live on
the air is getting
thin and I want to
stay for some time
too bad I can not
live in my dreams
for then utopia would be
reached wouldn’t it

***

«Life Can Be So Sad» by Joyce Hemsley

More handsome than a movie star
Your sepia portrait stands apart
Affecting my life each morn and night
imprinted upon this aching heart.

Silver hair caressing your face
Eyes alive with magical glow
Charm that could launch a thousand loves
You were my darling. I loved you so.

Adored even more than you were before
In the hidden gallery of my heart
Where nobody goes ~ nobody knows
That you are my secret work of art.

Your beautiful portrait will ever be
Here at my bedside comforting me.
But deep in my soul, I will always be
Crying a river because I lost thee.

***

«Life Must Be Very Sad For Her» by Francis Duggan

Life must be very sad for her so feeble, old and gray
From her bed helped to her wheelchair her life’s hours tick away
A drive in the nursing home bus once a week with her elderly mates she does look forward to
She can only live for as long as she can but then that’s all we all can do,
In her mid nineties she must be near the twilight of her life
For fifty years to a hard working man she was a devoted wife
He died some twenty years ago soon with him she will lay
In the old graveyard by the hill just a short drive away
From the nursing home where she now reside and though she knows her end is near
Her husband she is going to join so death she does not fear
Her daughter even growing old she now is seventy one
And her grandson in his early forties with a teenage daughter and son,
In her mid nineties and in need of care and her better days long gone
And only her great love for life it keeps her keeping on.

***

«Lonely Tears» by Angela Pilant

First I shed a single tear because we are apart,
wanting nothing but to be with you,
to make a brand new start

The 2nd tear I shed is a lonely tear indeed.
My mind goes wild, my body goes numb,
and my heart begins to bleed.

The 3rd tear I cry wanting to feel your touch,
to taste your kiss and lips on mine,
I want so very much.

The 4th tear I cry thinking of you at night,
wanting you to hold me
as I grip my pillow tight.

The 5th tear I cry stains my pillowcase.
My mind drifts off in la la land
as I take us to that place.

The 6th tear I shed my thoughts go very deep,
simply dream of me and you
as I drift off fast to sleep.

***

«Lost Souls» by Sweet Madness

In this heartless creation
It is hard to understand
Why some souls choose to wander
Forgetting

Yet I am lost without wandering
My love is a ghost
Ancient – with wisdom
Vital – with tears
Not able to move on
Unable to let go

It’s hard to remember a love
You don’t recognize in this life
Yet the memory is without thought
Agony – without knowledge
This love – is without mercy

Passing through eternity
Life to the next
Forever searching
In a labyrinth of whispers
For a blissful love
Lost

Longing for the touch
I’ll sense when I feel
Whispering to my heart
Comforting this stoned soul

Our love burns within me
But I am lost in the shadows
This entity of dreams
Forever killing me

I believe this love is eternal
The flame will not relinquish
Forever circling me
The very matter of my existence

But for now I simply breath
Awaiting your rescue
Music – bonding our souls
Pain – stirring the memories
While silence shouts out this melody

***

«Lost… » by John Laset

My Angel…
Where are you?
I’m lost, confused, alone…
I cannot see you…
There is darkness around me;
The fire has died, my light blown away
By an unwanted breeze…
I am wandering, going around and around
in circles…
Is there no end to this loneliness?

My Angel…
Where are you?
My heart is sad, it cannot hear your songs.
All I hear is the echo of your love,
Its melody fading…
Fading…
Fading…

Now there is only silence, maddening silence.
It is suffocating, draining my heart of your songs…
Is there no escape from this madness?

My Angel…
Where are you?
I am cold…
I cannot feel your wings around me,
Cannot feel your loving arms to embrace me…
There is only emptiness…
Emptiness that pulls, and pushes, and shoves…
The emptiness is within me, devouring me whole,
Leaving nothing left but an empty soul…
Where are you, my Angel? Come to me, fill me up with your love… Make me
whole again…
Do not leave me in this pit of despair…

My Angel…
Where are you?
I cannot see you, hear you, feel you…
Have you gone away from me? have you taken away my heart…

… My Angel,

… where are you?

***

«Masquerade» by Nicole Sotelo

As I sink into the shadows,
the music begins to fade.
The people have all left me,
and so ends this masquerade.

The food has all been tasted,
bits thrown upon the floor.
My reality sinks in now.
This illusion is no more.

As I look into the mirror,
I cannot give myself a name.
Through all these lies I’ve hidden,
and lost myself in shame.

The doors will never open
to this castle I have built –
set aside is my pain,
so remains this saddened guilt.

***

«Memories» by Ruqaiya Curmally

Haunt me,
Dimensions of dreams,
Swirl by,
Colours of sorrow,
Merge the past,
Into my today,
Play with my mind,
Steal away my tomorrow.
Desert me,
Images of what might have been,
Relinquish your hold,
On my heart’s shattered being
Taunt me ,
Memories of yesteryear,
Take away ,
My corroded soul,
Within the drop of a single tear.

***

«Mirror» by Sylvia Plath

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful,
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

***

«Miss Rosie» by Lucille Clifton

when I watch you
wrapped up like garbage
sitting, surrounded by the smell
of too old potato peels
or
when I watch you
in your old man’s shoes
with the little toe cut out
sitting, waiting for your mind
like next week’s grocery
I say
when I watch you
you wet brown bag of a woman
who used to be the best looking gal in Georgia
used to be called the Georgia Rose
I stand up
through your destruction
I stand up

***

«My Everything» by Dean Coombes

You’re my love, my life,
The air that I breathe.
You’re my soul, my happiness,
The all that I need.

You’re my light, my dark,
The stars in the sky.
You’re my ups, my downs,
The reason I try.

You’re my strength, my weakness,
The love from the start.
You’re my heartache, my pain,
The beat of my heart

You’re my tears, my joy,
The love that you bring.
You’re my world, my galaxy,
You’re my everything.

***

«My Own Bed Of Roses» by Leigh Anne Dawson

To lie in a bed of roses,
To feel the silkiness against my skin,
The fragrance
How it comforts me,
Though feeling so alone,
Once again.
There was a time
When skies weren’t cloudy,
And it seldom ever rained,
But as the clouds begin to rumble,
Once again there’s so much pain.
So I’ll lie in my bed of roses,
And wait till the storm subsides,
And use the petals from my bed,
To wipe away the tears I’ve cried.

***

«My Sad Captains» by Thom Gunn

One by one they appear in
the darkness: a few friends, and
a few with historical
names. How late they start to shine!
but before they fade they stand
perfectly embodied, all

the past lapping them like a
cloak of chaos. They were men
who, I thought, lived only to
renew the wasteful force they
spent with each hot convulsion.
They remind me, distant now.

True, they are not at rest yet,
but now they are indeed
apart, winnowed from failures,
they withdraw to an orbit
and turn with disinterested
hard energy, like the stars.


Submitted by Andrew Mayers

***

«My Sister Buried in a Trunk» by Aaron Barth-Martinson

I was around—
Every night
I called up to her window
Emily—Emily, don’t die alone…

I was there
As close to serenade
I tried to make my voice sound,
When I sung out to her:
Come down Emily, Emily come take a walk with me—
Put your feet on solid ground!

I was confined to come each eve,
I cried for her to glimpse my sight,
I saw but a lonely light;
A discomforted form at work.

I swear I came even on wild nights,
Where now I think the rain tried
To provide me with some future incite,
Though I was unaware of what she wrote
I knew that she did write,
I thought she would retire soon from sowing,
The window was high,
With candle light still glowing,
I whispered, Emily—Emily
Please stop what you are doing,
Just for a moment— come walk with me
Emily—Emily, don’t die alone…

I heard a pace, I heard her rise,
I heard her heart— it was racing,
I thought I could hear her feet on the steps–
The upstairs window flew open—
The door below stayed closed—
I should have known it was her life that was going…

There was no light in the window anymore
Later nights when I did call;
My life without her had little answer…
It was strange how I kept facing
Returning to where she went departing
Without a care at all.

But when I broke the rules
So sick with love from calling,
I found a trunk full
Of slanted verse
And I was no longer falling.

Yet after I made your work immortal,
You died again, in my grief.

Now often nights I still come by,
Sometimes I think I see,
A shadow pass over your room;
I shed a tear for Emily.

***

«Never Asked» by Jessica Camp

I never asked you to call me,
Never asked to go with you that day.
That one night was perfect. We were one, but I
knew I’d be the one to pay.
I never asked you to make me feel good,
Never asked you to look my way.
It takes two to do what happened that night, so
there’s nothing more you can say.
I never asked for you to care,
Never asked to be the only one.
I knew she was in your life too,
But still I thought I’d won.
I never asked for promises,
Never asked if I could put my trust in you.
I always though I could handle the things
you “so often” like to do.
I never asked you to turn away,
Never asked you to make me cry.
You go on with your life like nothing ever
Happened while I slowly start to die.
I never asked for this loneliness,
Never asked to be the one to blame.
You tried putting all the guilt on me while you
Were the one playing the mind game.
I never asked for this empty feeling,
Never asked you to be there.
While I sit here confused in my own little world,
All you can do is stare.
I never asked if you loved me,
Never asked you to take something special away.
I can’t think straight and my heart aches, all
Because of that day.
I never asked for an explanation,
Never asked to be on your mind that day.
Even though I never asked you anything,
I’m broken hearted either way.

***

«No One Should Be Sad» by Carl Johnson

When ever life’s too much for me,
I stop and think a while.
I dream of floating of to sea,
This always makes me smile.

Far away from all my fears,
My mind is free at last.
No more upsets, No more tears,
A future with no past.

My boat it shifts through waters calm,
With sails all puffed up wide.
I feel relaxed and far from harm,
As my boat so smoothly glides.

I stand up front with Oceans bare,
By this I mean no land.
No soul in sight to make a pair,
My boat is just one manned.

So on I go, Alone I thought,
Until I looked aside.
I was surprised what Nature brought,
Two dolphins at my side.

By now I’m truly far away,
In mind and distance too.
The dolphins lead me far astray,
They also could take you.

We reached a place far out to sea,
That looked like heavens door.
For all around my boat and me,
Where dolphins more and more.

They swim around these waters blue,
They sometimes jump up high.
You could see these visions too,
When things are hard Just Try.

I have these dreams Most of the time,
As life too much for me.
They take me away from all the grime,
Just try it and you’ll see.

***

«Nobody Knows» by Azumi Zaima

Nobody knows it’s empty,
The smile that I wear.
The real one is left behind in the past
Because I left you there…

Nobody knows I am crying.
They won’t even see my tears.
When they think I am laughing,
I wish you were here…

Nobody knows it’s painful.
They think that I am strong.
They say it won’t kill me,
But I wonder if they are wrong…

Nobody knows I miss you.
They think I am all set free,
But I feel like I am bound with chains,
Trapped in the mystery…

Nobody knows I need you.
They think I can do it on my own,
But they don’t know I am crying
When I am all alone…

***

«Now That You’re Gone» by Joanna Fuchs

Now that you’re gone, I realize
How much you meant to me.
My loss is wide as a starless night sky,
And deep as a stormy sea.

I miss the comfort of your sweet love,
Your absolute devotion;
Now I’m a fountain of endless tears,
A pool of sad emotion.

They tell me I should move on with life,
That time will heal my pain;
I smile and nod and agree with them,
While I slowly go insane.

***

«Ode To You» by Carl Sinclair

Every morning I see your face,
And for that fleeting second I’m in a different place,
A place where we smiled, laughed, and talked,
A place where we could hold hands wherever we walked,
I’m reminded of this each and every day.
Then the sleep clears and it’s all blown away.

Realization sets in and I’m all alone.
I quickly have to check my phone
In case you’ve called or sent me a text.
Then it hits harder as what come next
Is the empty screen with your smiling face
And the emptiness of this forsaken place.

I wither up inside as all my hopes disappear
And the burn in my heart really starts to sear.
I sink back in my bed and think of you
And wonder if there’s anything I can do.
I’m knocked back every time I try to get through,
And now the decision is up to you.

Leave me out here in the cold and the rain,
Leave me to choke on the tears and the pain,
Missing you every minute of every day,
Loving you more and more in my way.
One day, my love, this will all be like a dream.
I just hope we can dream it together in our place so serene.

***

«Odysseus to Telemachus» by Joseph Brodsky

My dear Telemachus,
The Trojan War
is over now; I don’t recall who won it.
The Greeks, no doubt, for only they would leave
so many dead so far from their own homeland.
But still, my homeward way has proved too long.
While we were wasting time there, old Poseidon,
it almost seems, stretched and extended space.

I don’t know where I am or what this place
can be. It would appear some filthy island,
with bushes, buildings, and great grunting pigs.
A garden choked with weeds; some queen or other.
Grass and huge stones . . . Telemachus, my son!
To a wanderer the faces of all islands
resemble one another. And the mind
trips, numbering waves; eyes, sore from sea horizons,
run; and the flesh of water stuffs the ears.
I can’t remember how the war came out;
even how old you are–I can’t remember.

Grow up, then, my Telemachus, grow strong.
Only the gods know if we’ll see each other
again. You’ve long since ceased to be that babe
before whom I reined in the plowing bullocks.
Had it not been for Palamedes’ trick
we two would still be living in one household.
But maybe he was right; away from me
you are quite safe from all Oedipal passions,
and your dreams, my Telemachus, are blameless.

***

«Of Sad Eyes» by Taher Shemaly

Hello how are you?
my dearest friend that I ever had
How’s everything going on with you?
missed your old days that with you I had
Ye my friend of the sad eyes

I remember how you used to play
your harp and flute in gay
The fun we had and the happy memories
away from troubles and the tragedies
Not like now my friend of the sad eyes

I wonder where did you go?
and where you are hiding?
scared of this world of ego?
or maybe you are on your bed dying?
Where are you, my friend of the sad eyes?

Here, we have a moon with light
and a sun that is so bright
But not easy life to be engaged
and nothing to you to be compared
Ye my friend of the sad eyes

And though they are beautiful
the plenty of roses that we have here
But destiny and hearts are so harmful
in the world we are living here
Really missed my friend of the sad eyes

My thought and soul are longing
to know to whom am I talking
But after many trials to know
who is the ghost that I would never know
It was but me, the one of the sad eyes

***

«On Another’s Sorrow» by William Blake

Can I see another’s woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief,
And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow’s share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow filled?

Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no!  never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird’s grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear —

And not sit beside the next,
Pouring pity in their breast,
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant’s tear?

And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
Oh no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
He doth give his joy to all:
He becomes an infant small,
He becomes a man of woe,
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not near.

Oh He gives to us his joy,
That our grief He may destroy:
Till our grief is fled an gone
He doth sit by us and moan.

***

«One Art» by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied.  It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

***

«One Sad Bobby In A Panda Car» by Amy Kerswell

Ten little bobbys in a panda car.
One got fryed for bacon.
One went to market.
One got shot.

The other 7 chasing me
In their cattle wagon.
Chasing me but cant find me.
They found a mud puddle Instead.

Farmer confused one for a pig
Then there was 6 left in the panda car.

I led them to a pig sty
Led them back home.
Farmer took them to be sluatered.

Oh shit there all dead

***

«Out Out» by Robert Frost

The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behind the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.
Call it a day, I wish they might have said
To please the boy by giving him the half hour
That a boy counts so much when saved from work.
His sister stood beside them in her apron
To tell them “Supper.” At the word, the saw,
As if to prove saws knew what supper meant,
Leaped out at the boy’s hand, or seemed to leap—
He must have given the hand. However it was,
Neither refused the meeting. But the hand!
The boy’s first outcry was a rueful laugh,
As he swung toward them holding up the hand
Half in appeal, but half as if to keep
The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all—
Since he was old enough to know, big boy
Doing a man’s work, though a child at heart—
He saw all spoiled. “Don’t let him cut my hand off—
The doctor, when he comes. Don’t let him, sister!”
So. But the hand was gone already.
The doctor put him in the dark of ether.
He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath.
And then—the watcher at his pulse took fright.
No one believed. They listened at his heart.
Little—less—nothing!—and that ended it.
No more to build on there. And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.

***

«Overcast» by Ash Daniels

song, my tempest angel
ring through my clouded breath
tones carry the lyrics of life
to bring the passage of death

oh, sweet melody rapture
i beseech you in respect
bring solitude to its end
with your holy dialect

tear tone notes of chant
blackens the once blue sky
softens my restless spirit
to ease me where i lie

words from unknown gods
sung through sirens lips
enchant this weary soul
buried in death’s own crypts

so long, too long ago
was when i heard it last
a tender sorrow tale
that accompanies my past

but now i will sing
and release my heavy chains
so i can live in harmony
beneath the pouring rains

***

«Pain, Pain, Go Away» by Kari Johnston

Pain, pain go away!
Please do not come back another day.
Tears falling down my face.
Oh, how I wish for his warm embrace.
Wonder if he cares about me.
Wonder if this is supposed to be.
How can he stand there and break my heart?
How did we allow us to grow so far apart?
My dreams of us being happy is not going to come true.
All I am feeling is down and blue.
Pain, pain go away.
Bring me back to another day
where he loved me and
we thought we were meant to be.
I will not stop loving you; that much is true,
but I will be stronger in time
and not feel so blue.
You will always be in my heart,
even when we are apart.
One day I will have that warm embrace,
and tears will stop flowing down my face.
Pain, pain go away.
Leave me alone and do not stay.

***

«Please Dont Be Sad» by Amy Louise Kerswell

Please dont be sad.
Yes I took my own life.
Becuase it was to much strife.
My pain I couldnt bare.
At least now you dont have to watch me killing myself.
It’s all done and over.
I’m sorry really I am.
But please just remember this.

Please dont cry for me mummy.
I am right here.
Although you cant see me.
I see your tears.
I visit often.

And when its time to close your eyes.
On your pillow is where I lay.
I hold your hand and stroke your hair.
And whisper in your ear.
If you sad today mummy.
Remember I am here.

***

«Please, Dad» by Michael Anderson

As soft winds sweep away the days
I look back on life through a haze.
Remember playgrounds, parks and friends,
In childlike gaze that never ends.
The laughter in a game of catch,
Shall memory ever attach…
To innocence in youthful eyes,
Catching the ball to Dad’s surprise.

I recall my first bike, first wreck,
Who picked me up, said, “What the heck?”
Convinced me to give one more try,
While, knees skinned, I forgot to cry.
Just the joy knowing he was there,
Making him proud my only care.
There was nothing I couldn’t do,
My heart held fast that to be true.

Though teenage years were kind of rough,
I sure wasn’t too big or tough.
You taught me to defend what’s right
And never back down from a fight.
So I learned the hard way to stand,
Still, with each lump, I found your hand.
Drawing from you an inner strength,
And stubborn pride of equal length.

But there the line of fate was drawn,
As though I blinked and you were gone.
I found myself facing the sun,
Not man, not boy, fatherless, one.
Eyes blinded by a void inside,
I could not live that you had died.
Alas finding it to be true,
I could do nothing without you.

Please, Dad, today just hear my call,
I’m sorry that I dropped the ball.
My life is wrecked, my knees are skinned,
My emotions undisciplined.
I can’t get up although I try,
Please don’t be upset if I cry.
Though I can’t fight what I can’t see,
Please, Dad, say you’re still proud of me.

***

«Poor Sad John Clare» by Francis Duggan

As a poet of Nature writing in the English language few with him to compare
But life it was awful for poor sad John Clare
In Northampton asylum he was locked away
And there sad and abandoned he lived his last day
In his poems he glorified Helpston where he lived as a boy
And Worldwide lovers of Nature poetry his poems do enjoy
In his life unsung and though back to Nature long gone
His poems celebrated and his fame living on,
The Thrush’s nest and the Badger and the March nightingale
And the Quails Nest he found whilst walking in the vale
Forgotten in life but now a major poet
And in the World of literature seen as one of note
His Nature poems a literary breath of fresh air
Yet in his life he knew of heartbreak and despair.

***

«Richard Cory» by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good-morning,” and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich – yes, richer than a king –
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

***

«Sad» by Cristina Geanta

sad for all the time my embrace was empty of you
sad for being stubborn to be sad
sad for touching objects baring your presence
sad for not touching you…

sad for re adi ng your name everywhere i turn
sad for all the blue jackets other men should not have worn
sad for all my weak spots left to be weak
sad to open my eyes in the morning

sad for a cruel truth not even dreams can survive
sad without dreaming
sad of nothing to hope for
sad for still seing beautiful things worth for you to know

sad…
just what she is not

***

«Sad» by Miranda Overton

I am sad when your around you,
I am sad with you,
You always make me sad,
will you ever make me feel more than sad?
do I make you sad?


All I know is you make me sad,
will you ever love me?
even though you make me sad,
I still love you,
so I’m makeing myself a Promise,
I will never be sad again when your around.

***

«Sad» by Sophia White

I don’t want to run around
This great big wheeling earth
Like a hamster in a ball
Rising just to fall
No sacred home or hearth.

I don’t want to run this race
This speeding, staring track
Is filled with lies
And cutting eyes
Fingers pointed at your back.

I don’t want to join this crowd
This crowd of human sneers
It’s naught but hate
Appetites to sate
On unsuspecting peers.

I don’t want to run this earth
Where the darkness grows so deep
Eyes behind hands
None understand.
Just let me go home – and sleep.

***

«Sad» by Bob Oldfield

Sad the situation
When those who think they have it
Sit in judgement
On those who have it differently
Or on those
Who don’t have it at all.

Sad the situation
When intolerance
Points it’s fickle finger
In condemnation

Sad the situation
When those who
Choose such a way
Also claim to walk
With the Man
Of Compassion

Let him who is without sin
Cast the first stone

***

«Sad & Suicidal» by Brandi Young

It pains me to see you this way
To see you so sad and suicidal
If i could only kiss you
and make your problems fade away

I would.
I would die a thousand times
Before i could ever forget about you
I love you and i won’t find anyone like you!

So why search for someone
When i know they could never
Compare to you!
I’ll only be happy if i’m with you!

I can’t stand
To see you so sad and suicidal
It rips me apart at the seems
and i unravel in front of the whole world

They stared an walked on!
Cause no one cares but you and i!
and it’s only for us to handle!

I cried when i’d seen her sitting there
What a razor in her hand
and tears streaming down her face
She’s so sad and suicidal

I sat up all night holding her in my arms
Singing ‘you are my sunshine’
She has a lot to live for, but she doesn’t care
She’s so sad and suicidal

When she told me i deserve someone better
I told her you are my only love
and that will never change
She’s so sad and suicidal

***

«Sad And Lonely» by Taher Shemaly

As I started sipping
my daily lovely coffee
A race of memories just began in my mind
of old days, the hard and the easy
And looking at myself now with a tear in my eye
just to find myself sad and lonely

And as I walk down that antique street
where my old little house was meant to be
It feels hard to breathe just to know
that I am out of it now and maybe
maybe forever I would be like a rover
that tells stories of how sad I am and lonely

Those stairs I used to go up and down
everyday in fast rhythm used to be happy
In my room I used to stay most of the time
never thought that i would live in a tragedy
But words are not useful now
for sad I am and lonely

Though poverty was my company long ago
but riches couldn’t bring back honey
The honey I saw in my sweet old days
Days of the poverty and agony
Believe me my friend riches won’t give you a thing
But to make you sad and lonely

***

«Sad Eyes» by Linda Guthrie

Sad eyes..that used to shine so bright,
But you’re gone…and now they see no light.
They are dark and sad
With a look so far away,
Clouded by the tears…
That now are here to stay.
Nothing can bring back the shine
That you took from me dear,
Another love I’ll never find ..
No arms will hold me near.
So cry…cry…cry sad eyes
Cry into the night,
Take away my sunshine
And shut out all the light.

***

«Sad Eyes» by Destiny Avaritia

My sad eyes
Blurred by tears
Heart broken
By the world they now fear

My sad eyes
Now look down
Afraid to look upon the town

My sad eyes
Full of aqua blue
The whitest whites
So wondrous and true

My sad eyes
One tear holds
One-hundred different reasons
For sadness to behold

My sad eyes
Still afraid to see
What’s happening
To our beautiful country

***

«Sad Faced Dan» by Francis Duggan

His heart is full of stress by stress he is weighed down
The one known as sad faced Dan the saddest one in town
He never laugh or smile he never crack a joke
He must not like the World he seems a sad poor bloke
When he walks down the street he never says hello
To anyone he meet not even those he know
Yet he is a good man he works hard for his pay
Nor ill of anyone you never hear him say,
He lives in his own quiet way and he does his own thing
The sad one of the town and none his praises sing,
The town’s most crooked one he has a cheerful smile
Yet he flatters to deceive and his heart is full of guile
And unlike poor sad faced Dan he lacks in honesty
But the face you look upon is not always the soul you see.

***

«Sad Green Eyes» by Linda Ori

You look at me with sad green eyes,
I’m overcome with feeling-
Such deep emotion they disguise,
Yet send my senses reeling; They speak to me of loneliness
And feelings unexpressed,
Of hopes and dreams unrealized
And love gone uncaressed; They cry to me of urgency
To experience it all-
But here you are in limbo
With your back against the wall; I wish I had the answers
To the questions they impose-
I’m drowning in those sad green eyes
And the sorrow only grows; If I had one magic wish,
You know what it would be?
To see instead of sad green eyes
Green eyes that smile for me.

***

«Sad Holidays» by Donna Nimmo

The holidays are getting near
Bringing most people great cheer
These days bring back pain from the dead
The holidays I always have to dread
Thinking back through the many years
Trying to be happy, holding back the tears
Getting through life one day at a time
Out of the darkness I must climb
I can’t live in the pain from the past
Please let it be over, don’t let it last
I love the warmth from the summer sun
So let this time of year be done
I like the green grass and flowers in bloom
They make me happiest, instead of this gloom
So hurry up summer and come back around
And I won’t be sad, happiness I’d have found
I have a good life and what’s wrong with me
When the holidays come, I can’t feel free!

***

«Sad In Blue» by Peter S. Quinn

Sad sad sad in blue
For sad sad sad you
The moon is all bluish tonight
The night is all dark out side
Nowhere to run
Sad sad sad in blue

Into the night hold me tight
Love me babe I need some light
What’s wrong and what’s right
When shadows dwell and abide

Sad sad sad in blue
For sad sad sad you
The moon is all bluish tonight
Is there some star shoot in sight
To wish upon
For sad sad sad you

Into the night take a flight
Feelings, touch, everything out sight
Love me with feelings ok
Come come babe now closer stay

Sad sad sad in blue
For sad sad sad you
The moon is all bluish tonight
Is there some star shoot in sight
To wish upon
For sad sad sad you

***

«Sad Life» by Crystal Shover

I look into her hollow green eyes,
as she tries to end her life,
oh what a sad little girl,
to live such a horrible life,

her memory’s filled with hate,
rap ed by her grandpa,
for three years straight,
before that her brother,
had to have a go,
passed her around,
like a dirty hoe,

now shes cowering in fear,
i want to hold her tight,
and tell her its ok,
everything will be alright,
but theres something in my way,

whats that no it cant be,
if this is a mirror,
then that girl is me,
I’m th one with the knife,
and the blood by my side,
I’m the one ending my life

***

«Sad Sacked» by Laurence Overmire

He was a weird fellow
Sat around reading books when he
Should have been working
Well, at least
LOOKING like he was working
Not that there’s all that much
Work to do really
But it’s important to our customers
That we always look like we’re working
It gives them confidence
That they’re dealing with good, honest
Americans
Not a bunch of idiots who sit around
Reading books.

***

«Sad Side» by Roger Bewman

Sad like a dark polluted sea
under a rusty bridge
and the cloudy foggy sky

Pass some happy
throw away the sad
smile let go of pain
is that possible?

Augmented depression
hey, lift this veil
and think it over

Sad so wrong sometimes to be
when there’s nothing to control you
when there is something
you make it seem so filthy

More than a little less than a lot
is that what you are searchin’ for

Wake up earlier than noon
don’t start from the moon
cause again you’ll end up alone
in the city’s dessert jungle

***

«Sad Songs» by Theresa Ann Moore

Heart wrenching songs of our day
Tell of love and its decay
Going as high as high can go
Emotions then dip down low

Listeners are fixated and identify
With the truth of obvious lies
Comprehension helps them realize
Tuneful feelings are unified

Maybe the absence of happiness
Leads the way to mental access…
Seeking hushed cells of the mind
Leaving troubled pain behind

Can the lyrics offer a solution?
Helping rid an injured soul of pollution
Hoping for a brighter day tomorrow
Listening to songs that drown sorrow

***

«Sad Story» by David Harris

The old house stood in silence,
no one lives there anymore.
Only memories of the past,
fill each empty room.
Once you stood so proud,
laughter rang out from your walls.
Now only cobwebs and decay inherit there.
What sad story has lead to your decline?

The lights from your windows,
don’t shine there anymore.
Only ghosts from the past,
live in every room.
Ghosts that once brought laughter.
That rang out every night,
are silent and no more
What sad story marks your fall from grace?

Once upon a time,
children played outside your door.
Now only weeds and brambles,
fall across your welcome path.
No more the smiling faces,
greet everyone at your door.
Now that sadness and neglect has fell.
What sad story do you have to tell?

Were there newlyweds,
with their hopes so high?
Did they have their hopes dashed some how,
or was it some great tragedy,
that within your walls befell?
So tragic that it made the silence fall.
What made them desert you to neglect?
What was the sad story, pray tell?

***

«Sad Times» by Marilyn Lott

Travel is so important to us
We take it for granted each day
When we want to go somewhere
We can find so many different ways

But when a disaster happens
We are shocked beyond belief
What went wrong we wonder
We feel such sadness, such grief

And that is the way when bridges
Don’t hold up the way they should
We have so many questions
We’d turn back the clocks if we could

Oklahoma experienced this disaster
So sad it just breaks our hearts
And now the same with Minnesota
To fix things, where can they start?

We’re so sorry this has happened
We pray each day for the lives gone
Our heartfelt wishes are bestowed
On each woman, child and man!

***

«Sad To Think» by Tracy Rollings

I use to lay in my bed, every night
and cry when they, turn out the light.

Had crazy thoughts, in my head
of the things, under my bed.

But you put them there and i blame you
cruel things you did and i know it’s true.

Came in my room, something over your head
scare me to death and i would wet the bed.

You got mad one night and slung me in the floor
told me you wasn’t putting up, with me anymore.

You grabbed me, by the throat that night
and you held me there, till i lost sight.

Said i couldn’t sleep, in the bed anymore
and from that night on, i laid in the floor.

Can’t remember a night, I never made you mad
you gave me the worse life a child ever had.

You beat on a kid, made you look tough
and your kicks in the back really got rough.

Said you couldn’t see me, because of no light
knew where i was, you put me there every night.

Laid there at night and remembered what you said
had a thought one night, to come burn your bed.

What a sad thought, for a little child to think
of all the stupid things, you did when you drank.

***

«Sad To Witness» by Lawrence S. Pertillar

There for no purpose and rehearsing grief,
Just to please the ambitions of one man…
Who has gotten us in deep shit,
At our expense to satisfy a disturbed ego!
Is sad to witness!
But then again…
It has been sad to witness the fact,
That he represents so many like him
Who can not accept defeat
Without ensuring everyone feels
As insecure about failure as he does!
No matter what the cost or price to be paid!
It’s just a way of life for him and those he represents!
Even though what’s kept in movement…
Makes no bit of sense!

***

«Sad Worn Face» by Marilyn Lott

It’s sad to see homes in ruins
As generations slip away
Where once so lovely inside
And families planned to stay

Their styles were so gracious
Their roofs were pitched so steep
Owners loved their homes
A lifestyle they planned to keep

And then after years the owners die
The money just isn’t there
To give the home what it needs
To keep up necessary repairs

And so the shingles blow off
The hinges rust and break
Year after year it deteriorates
When there is so much at stake

In some ways they’re still beautiful
No matter what takes place
We look upon the ruins now
And see each sad worn face!

***

«Sad, Dreary And Sombre Views» by Ernestine Northover

The dust that descends over roadside hedges,
On walls, fences and along the edges,
Comes from the ever moving needs,
Of vehicles, racing at tremendous speeds.

Unknown destinations, their one concern,
Doesn’t matter that they continually churn
And splatter mud, simply everywhere,
Once they’ve gone past, they never care.

The dirt on the wayside then settles and dries,
Even on some startled and irate magpies,
Making really sad, dreary and sombre views,
In dull, dismal colours, not nature’s hues.

And only by a heavy abundance of rain,
Will it be cleansed, and turn green again.

***

«Sad-Eyed And Soft And Grey» by William Morris

Sad-Eyed and soft and grey thou art, o morn!
Across the long grass of the marshy plain
Thy west wind whispers of the coming rain,
Thy lark forgets that May is grown forlorn
Above the lush blades of the springing corn,
Thy thrush within the high elms strives in vain
To store up tales of spring for summer’s pain –
Vain day, why wert thou from the dark night born?

O many-voiced strange morn, why must thou break
With vain desire the softness of my dream
Where she and I alone on earth did seem?
How hadst thou heart from me that land to take
Wherein she wandered softly for my sake
And I and she no harm of love might deem?

***

«Silent Tears» by Heather Loughton

A thunderous silence
breaks through my thoughts.
What was once many great ideas
is now a triumph, lost.

Baffling words tumble through my mind.
Reflections of darkness hover.
A disturbing peacefulness beckons to me,
and inside myself, I take cover.

What would it be like to stay there forever?
To be lost in all my cares?
From the inside, looking out –
I cry silent tears.

***

«Simple, Seldom And Sad» by Mervyn Peake

Simple, seldom and sad
We are;
Alone on the Halibut Hills
Afar,
With sweet mad Expressions
Of old
Strangely beautiful
So we’re told
By the Creatures that Move
In the sky
And Die
On the night when the Dead Trees
Prance and Cry.

Sensitive, seldom and sad –
Sensitive, seldom and sad –

Simple, seldom and sad
Are we
When we take our path
To the purple sea –
With mad, sweet Expressions
Of Yore,
Strangely beautiful,
Yea, and More
On the Night of all Nights
When the sky
Streams by
In rags, while the Dead Trees
Prance and Cry,

sensitive, seldom and sad –
sensitive, seldom and sad.

***

«Sit Down, Sad Soul» by Barry Cornwall

SIT down, sad soul, and count
The moments flying:
Come,—tell the sweet amount
That ’s lost by sighing!
How many smiles?—a score?
Then laugh, and count no more;
For day is dying.

Lie down, sad soul, and sleep,
And no more measure
The flight of Time, nor weep
The loss of leisure;
But here, by this lone stream,
Lie down with us, and dream
Of starry treasure.

We dream: do thou the same:
We love—for ever;
We laugh; yet few we shame,
The gentle, never.
Stay, then, till Sorrow dies;
Then—hope and happy skies
Are thine for ever!

***

«So True So Sad» by Christina Acosta

Do you know what emo truly is,
Why you hate them so much,
Is it cause they have better hair then you and it looks good on them not you,
People show ignorance towards emo’s,
Yes some may suffer from depression and cuts on themselves but that don’t mean all emo’s are that way,
A true emo don’t care what others say,
A true emo will dress however they feel like it,
A true emo will listen to whatever music they want.
Are you scared that emo’s are taking over your life yet you choose to make fun of them and push them around as if they were nothing to you,
They breathe,
They talk,
They Walk,
They make take better pictures then you but don’t be jealous cause they have something you don’t,
Its called emotions get used to it,
Everyone has there own personality,
There own styles,
Not all emo’s are scared,
Not all emo’s cry themselves to sleep,
If you think you know what emo is you better look in the mirror,
Cause Emo’s are humans.

***

«Solitude» by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
    Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
    But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
    Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
    But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
    Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
    But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
    Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
    But alone you must drink life’s gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
    Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
    But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
    For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
    Through the narrow aisles of pain.

***

«Someday I Will Be Okay» by Britaney L. Adams

This ink, it runs.
This paper is stained
Tears run free as
I’m stuck in a daze.
I put this pen to paper,
To write the words
This voice can’t deliver.
My heart is heavy
With pain and despair.
Can’t breathe.
I’m fighting for air.
My mind is spinning
At the speed of light.
This pain in my life
Has clouded my mind.
The thoughts are deafening
Of my life you took away,
But after all my
Heartache,
Someday I’ll be okay!

***

«Sonnet Iii: With How Sad Steps» by Sir Philip Sidney

With how sad steps, O moon, thou climb’st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What! may it be that even in heavenly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?
Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel’st a lover’s case:
I read it in thy looks; thy languished grace
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deemed there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet
Those lovers scorn whoom that love doth possess?
Do they call ‘virtue’ there – ungratefulness?

***

«Sonnet: Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From Day To Day» by William Lisle Bowles

Languid, and sad, and slow, from day to day
I journey on, yet pensive turn to view
(Where the rich landscape gleams with softer hue)
The streams and vales, and hills, that steal away.
So fares it with the children of the earth:
For when life’s goodly prospect opens round,
Their spirits beat to tread that fairy ground,
Where every vale sounds to the pipe of mirth.
But them vain hope and easy youth beguiles,
And soon a longing look, like me, they cast
Back on the pleasing prospect of the past:
Yet Fancy points where still far onward smiles
Some sunny spot, and her fair colouring blends,
Till cheerless on their path the night descends!

***

«Sorrow and Pain» by Lance Hodges

some live life in the
fast lane
some get stuck with a
ball & chain
some lives are known, simply
by name
some get only
Sorrow & Pain

some lives are filled
with riches
some get to live in
the ditches
some live with their
insanity contained
some get only
Sorrow & Pain

some lives have no riches, some have
caviar & wine
some get to live a life thats
like mine
some lives can’t differentiate between
that line
some get only
Sorrow & Pain

some lives are short, yet the
memory remains
some get anger and keep
it retained
some live and get justice;the
cold & rain
some get nothing but
Sorrow & Pain

***

«Swan’s Song» by Ruwaida Van Doorsen

Like the last leaf on a windy Autumn day
I hang on, fragile but courageously
Waiting for the day to come
When the wind will stop blowing
So that I can be at peace

At peace with myself and everything around me
At peace with the world and all that it bears
Hanging onto a hope that is based on dreams
Hoping that my dream of surviving all adversity
Will finally be realized

But alas the wind is too strong
And like all other leaves before me
I begin to sing , so long

Sad and lost filled with despair
No one to comfort me
No one to care
No one to say, hang in there, be strong
So I’ll whisper my good-byes, and sing
My swan’s song

***

«Tattered And Sad» by Marilyn Lott

The other day I drove into the country
Took time to look all around
And while driving I observed a windmill
Some of its parts had dropped to the ground

I felt so sad to see this beautiful structure
On the last leg of its useful journey
Unless someone spent time and money
It just couldn’t last for all eternity

I stopped my car and got out and took
A few pictures from different directions
I would print out a picture to frame
To add it to my special windmill collection

It’s the same with so many old structures
Old barns and homesteads around
Sadness just fills your heart
To see them falling in pieces to the ground

But then, nothing lasts forever
Even though they are tattered and sad
You have to remember their usefulness
If you do it doesn’t seem nearly so bad!

***

«Tears Fall in My Heart» by Paul Verlaine

Tears fall in my heart
Rain falls on the town;
what is this numb hurt
that enters my heart?

Ah,the soft sound of rain
on roofs, on the ground!
To a dulled heart they came,
ah, the song of the rain!

Tears without reason
in the disheartened heart.
What? no trace of treason?
This grief’s without reason.

It’s far the worst pain
to never know why
without love or disdain
my heart has such pain!

***

«The Bad Season Makes The Poet Sad» by Robert Herrick

Dull to myself, and almost dead to these,
My many fresh and fragrant mistresses;
Lost to all music now, since every thing
Puts on the semblance here of sorrowing.
Sick is the land to th’ heart; and doth endure
More dangerous faintings by her desperate cure.
But if that golden age would come again,
And Charles here rule, as he before did reign;
If smooth and unperplex’d the seasons were,
As when the sweet Maria lived here;
I should delight to have my curls half drown’d
In Tyrian dews, and head with roses crown’d:
And once more yet, ere I am laid out dead,
Knock at a star with my exalted head.

***

«The Boxes In The Hall» by Adrian Baillie

In every room of our time together there is a box
Of memories we shared.
Now is the time to pack away
With sadness and with care.

The first is a simple smile,
Whenever I thought of you.
Neatly folded into four,
It’s the best that I could do.

Next are all the memories
Of the times when we were two,
Wrapped with love one by one,
Sealed with tears as glue.

And then there are the butterflies
I had when you were near,
Now in a cage of sadness
And locked up with a tear.

Next are the times we kissed,
Each one wrapped with a sigh,
Placed next to a rolled up list
Of all the times I’ve asked myself why.

Now to pack are the pieces of my heart,
Gathered in a pile.
Each one wrapped up tenderly
And placed next to a distant smile.

Finally all the shattered wishes,
Placed in softly so no more can break,
Covering them over trying not to cry
So they would not all ache.

Lastly walking round each room,
Closing each and every curtain,
Shutting each and every door,
Leaving behind each and ever pain.

Gathering up the memories we shared,
Making sure I’ve got them all,
Packing them softly because I cared,
Leaving them in the boxes in the hall

***

«The Chimney-Sweeper» by William Blake

When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry ‘Weep! weep! weep! weep!’
So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.

There’s little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
That curled like a lamb’s back, was shaved; so I said,
‘Hush, Tom! never mind it, for, when your head’s bare,
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.’

And so he was quiet, and that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight!–
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.

And by came an angel, who had a bright key,
And he opened the coffins, and set them all free;
Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing, they run
And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.

Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind;
And the angel told Tom, if he’d be a good boy,
He’d have God for his father, and never want joy.

And so Tom awoke, and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags and our brushes to work.
Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm:
So, if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.

***

«The Enemies Of My Soul» by Lisa Roberts

Hate is the enemy my heart does not want
to surrender to
though sometimes my weakness comes out
and my tears begin to flow
perhaps if the people knew
the pain
they give one another
there would be no broken hearts
I wish to obliterate my enemies
words that fill your mind
with agony
breaks down the emotional bliss
and replaces it with a broken heart
I wish to obliterate my enemies
for hate has perished
the minds of the lonely
I wish to obliterate
hate.

***

«The Game» by Susan Christensen

Let me tell you about a game I play
Where I close my eyes and fade away

I float away to a special place
Beyond the stars and moon and space

In this special place you see
There are only two people – just you and me

In this place, all is right
Nothing but love, and we never fight

In this place, there is no sadness
No cells, no courts, none of that madness

No rules to follow, no laws to break
No bars to hold us or separate

No one to tell us we can’t kiss or touch
I don’t just tell you “I love you” – I show you how much

But eventually the game must end
My eyes must open, and reality sets in

But someday soon – I’m not sure when
I will close my eyes and play my game again.

***

«The Lover’s Liturgy» by Jack London

Ah! my brothers, we are mortals,
Atoms on Time’s ebb and flow,
Soon we pass the dreary portals,
Soon to dreamless sleep we go;
We are sparkles, evanescent,
Doomed to perish in the hour,
And our time is in the present,
Ours but a moment’s power.

Love, my brothers, is the essence,
In the scheme of life and light;
Birth and death are fearful lessons –
Out of darkness into night, –
Thus we flash, a moment’s living,
‘Twixt the silent walls of death,
Flashing for a moment, giving
Song but for a moment’s breath.

Then that moment do not sadden,
Prayers, nor beads, nor aves tell;
Then that moment do not madden
With mad dreams of heaven or hell;
Trust that he who cast you idly,
Asked of you nor aye nor nay,
Flung you idly, wildly, widely,
For his whim will not ask pay.

For a whim of bubble-blowing,
Perhaps to while an empty day,
For a whim of stubble-sowing,
For a game at godlike play,
Shall the bubbles in the drifting,
Pay the whim of Him who played?
Shall the seedlets in the shifting,
Of the sifter be afraid?

Shall the playthings of a master,
Falling idly from his hand,
Meet meritless disaster,
Meet with unearned reprimand?
Shall the children of fancy,
Born a certain race to run,
By an absurd necromancy,
Penance pay when it is done?

O, my brothers, go not questing
For some mystic grail in vain –
Why should ye a Master’s jesting,
Strive to fathom or make plain?
Wake ye from your fevered dreaming,
Groping for forbidden toys,
All about you life is teeming,
Singing of ungarnered joys.

Surely He who somewhere hovers,
‘Yond the reach of mortal ken,
Gazing down on love and lovers,
Cannot blame the sons of men;
Cannot blame his bubbles bursting,
Heart to heart and lips to lips;
Cannot blame his seedlets thirsting
For the dew of honeyed lips.

Then again the golden chalice,
Once again a lingering draught;
Surely He will bear no malice
For the pledge divinely quaffed.
Thus, with sweet and fond caresses,
Hearts that beat with mutual bliss,
He who loves is he who blesses,
Sealing heaven with a kiss.

***

«The Masquerade» by Cara_Mell

For all the plans that you made
tossed and driven
from a passionate soul

The torturous thoughts
you had to bear,
whose father was never there

Given away by a
mother possessed
to a man who sold
his soul to hell

Was he your real father,
genes don’t lie
Locked in a cage and
never told why

Brain washed and
told what calamities to behold
Drinking the blood of an
innocent soul

Under a project called Paperclip
In the dwelling of Canadian park
You had six children,
were you forced
to make them slaves
to the darkness?

They used sigils and magic
calling it well
I truly know they will burn in hell
From the bottomless pit
smoke will arise
Consuming all who
believe their lies

You woke up and
opened your eyes
It was too late, they
planned your demise

There is a true God
and He will judge
what was done to you
from a long-standing grudge

They say you hung yourself that day
You tossed a rope over the doorway
You pulled and pulled
till you were dead
That’s a joke, for your
own will prevailed

Though you’re gone,
I still think about you
How you suffered
when they murdered you

***

«The Memories Will Never Die» by Kristi Maxim

I didn’t imagine this could ever happen to me.
My best friend is hurting,
And I can’t even see.
The pain she must be feeling,
While she is lying there.
Just the thought of it,
I can’t even bear.

It makes me think of all the good times we shared.
The times when we were happy,
And the times when we were scared.
We would walk alone,
Along her dark dirt road,
Frightened as can be
Because of the stories we once told.

The good and bad times have all gone by,
And thinking of them
Makes me want to sit down and cry.
The memories will always last,
They can never die.
They will go on and on
As long as we both try.

***

«The Nails» by W. S. Merwin

I gave you sorrow to hang on your wall
Like a calendar in one color.
I wear a torn place on my sleeve.
It isn’t as simple as that.

Between no place of mine and no place of yours
You’d have thought I’d know the way by now
Just from thinking it over.
Oh I know
I’ve no excuse to be stuck here turning
Like a mirror on a string,
Except it’s hardly credible how
It all keeps changing.
Loss has a wider choice of directions
Than the other thing.

As if I had a system
I shuffle among the lies
Turning them over, if only
I could be sure what I’d lost.
I uncover my footprints, I
Poke them till the eyes open.
They don’t recall what it looked like.
When was I using it last?
Was it like a ring or a light
Or the autumn pond
Which chokes and glitters but
Grows colder?
It could be all in the mind. Anyway
Nothing seems to bring it back to me.

And I’ve been to see
Your hands as trees borne away on a flood,
The same film over and over,
And an old one at that, shattering its account
To the last of the digits, and nothing
And the blank end.

The lightning has shown me the scars of the future.

I’ve had a long look at someone
Alone like a key in a lock
Without what it takes to turn.

It isn’t as simple as that.

Winter will think back to your lit harvest
For which there is no help, and the seed
Of eloquence will open its wings
When you are gone.
But at this moment
When the nails are kissing the fingers good-bye
And my only
Chance is bleeding from me,
When my one chance is bleeding,
For speaking either truth or comfort
I have no more tongue than a wound.

***

«The Sad Bastards Club» by Francesca Johnson

A happy lot, us Sad Bastards.
We raise our glasses
Kick some asses
Laugh, tell rude jokes
Give the fire a poke
And throw on another log.
We talk of locks
And untimely clocks
And stocks and shares
And dual-purpose chairs
Play the organ, sing and giggle
Until 3 in the morning
When mutually yawning
We tuck ourselves into bed.
A happy lot
Us Sad Bastards.

***

«The Sad Day» by Thomas Flatman

O THE sad day!
When friends shall shake their heads, and say
Of miserable me–
‘Hark, how he groans!
Look, how he pants for breath!
See how he struggles with the pangs of death!’
When they shall say of these dear eyes–
‘How hollow, O how dim they be!
Mark how his breast doth rise and swell
Against his potent enemy!’
When some old friend shall step to my bedside,
Touch my chill face, and thence shall gently slide.

But–when his next companions say
‘How does he do? What hopes?’–shall turn away,
Answering only, with a lift-up hand–
‘Who can his fate withstand?’

Then shall a gasp or two do more
Than e’er my rhetoric could before:
Persuade the world to trouble me no more!

***

«The Sad Message» by Russell Edson

The Captain becomes moody at sea. He’s
afraid of water; such bully amounts that prove the
seas. . .

A glass of water is one thing. A man easily downs
it, capturing its menace in his bladder; pissing it
away. A few drops of rain do little harm, save to
remind of how grief looks upon the cheek.

One day the water is willing to bear your ship
upon its back like a liquid elephant. The next day
the elephant doesn’t want you on its back, and
says, I have no more willingness to have you
there; get off.

At sea this is a sad message.

The Captain sits in his cabin wearing a
parachute, listening to what the sea might say. . .

***

«The Sad Misanthrope» by Francis Duggan

He does not like writers and artists as such
Since he feels that they do not contribute much
To society that is what he does say
He looks at life in a strange sort of a way.

He doesn’t like playing cards or sports or football
And socializing he doesn’t like it at all
He is not in the cycling club as people he doesn’t like
Though he likes to cycle through town on his bike.

He does not have a lover to brighten his life
And with his attitude he may never have a wife
He never goes to parties new people to meet
And he never greets people he meets on the street.

For to dislike others he does not need an excuse
And time leaves him more bitter the ageing recluse
Yet he is what you see and he is free of guile
He never does laugh or he never does smile.

He lives without love and he lives without hope
Yet he goes on living the sad misanthrope
To any of his neighbours he never says hello
And with the passing of time the more bitter he grow.

***

«The Sad Mother» by Gabriela Mistral

Sleep, sleep, my beloved,
without worry, without fear,
although my soul does not sleep,
although I do not rest.

Sleep, sleep, and in the night
may your whispers be softer
than a leaf of grass,
or the silken fleece of lambs.

May my flesh slumber in you,
my worry, my trembling.
In you, may my eyes close
and my heart sleep.

***

«The Sad Shepherd» by William Butler Yeats

THERE was a man whom Sorrow named his Friend,
And he, of his high comrade Sorrow dreaming,
Went walking with slow steps along the gleaming
And humming Sands, where windy surges wend:
And he called loudly to the stars to bend
From their pale thrones and comfort him, but they
Among themselves laugh on and sing alway:
And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend
Cried out, Dim sea, hear my most piteous story.!
The sea Swept on and cried her old cry still,
Rolling along in dreams from hill to hill.
He fled the persecution of her glory
And, in a far-off, gentle valley stopping,
Cried all his story to the dewdrops glistening.
But naught they heard, for they are always listening,
The dewdrops, for the sound of their own dropping.
And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend
Sought once again the shore, and found a shell,
And thought, I will my heavy story tell
Till my own words, re-echoing, shall send
Their sadness through a hollow, pearly heart;
And my own talc again for me shall sing,
And my own whispering words be comforting,
And lo! my ancient burden may depart.
Then he sang softly nigh the pearly rim;
But the sad dweller by the sea-ways lone
Changed all he sang to inarticulate moan
Among her wildering whirls, forgetting him.

***

«The Sad Shepherd’s Passion Of Love» by George Peele

O Gentle Love, ungentle for thy deed,
Thou makest my heart
A bloody mark
With piercing shot to bleed.
Shoot soft, sweet Love, for fear thou shoot amiss,
For fear too keen
Thy arrows been,
And hist the heart where my beloved is.
Too fair that fortune were, nor never I
Shall be so blest,
Among the rest,
That Love shall seize on her by sympathy.
Then since with Love my prayers bear no boot,
This doth remain
To cease my pain,
I take the wound, and die at Venus’ foot.

***

«This Old Picture Book» by Katey Shines

I look at all these memories, and I start to cry.
I see things, I see people, I can’t ever see again.
I see people who I have mistreated, and can’t make up for doing.
I feel these memories are killing me.
I see so much I took for granted, and I cry.

I could never feel those feelings again,
I could never be there again.
I see things that hurt me, because I can’t remember them.
I see myself as I was: cruel, stone cold.
I never told anyone how I felt.
I regret that now.

I see how brave I was at times, and how I backed down.
I see how care-free I was.
I see now what has consumed my life. . .greed.
So, now I look at all these memories and I start to cry.
These memories are killing me,
So now old picture book, good bye.

***

«Till Light Breaks» by Terry Bernard

I’ve never seen a night so long or so quiet
A cold wind whispers her name through the pines
While night clouds race across a starless sky sublime
If God made the day, then the devil made this night

Tonight my memories are chasing her in my mind
And what havoc they wreak in their desperate plight
To catch her, hold her, only to find,
She has vanished, slipped away into the everlasting night

Still I don’t know what I did wrong,
What I should have said, should have done
I would never have guessed I could hurt so long
But then I never expected her to be gone

I walk to the window and peer into the endless night
The clouds and the wind are gone now, there’s only the moon
And tall, dark trees jutting up toward the ebony sky
A night bird calls out and my heart is filled with gloom

I never knew love until I knew you, love
Now all is gone, another’s arms hold you
Another’s lips sets your heart on fire, love
And someone else hears you whisper ‘I love you’

I’m afraid this night will outlast the bottle of wine
Then what will I do, while I wait on the light
Of the sun breaking o’er the tall pines in the morning sky
To give me reprieve till the next eternal night.

***

«Time to Say Goodbye» by Joanna Fuchs

My heart is breaking in me;
It’s still you whom I adore;
My tears are overflowing:
You don’t love me anymore.

I sleepwalk through each day;
I pray to heaven above,
Hoping you’ll change your mind,
But I know I’ve lost your love.

I wish that things were different;
I wish it were the way it was,
But reality has no pity;
It just happens the way it does.

Will I ever feel any better,
With days when I don’t cry?
No matter what, it’s time to say
Goodbye, my love, goodbye.

***

«To A Sad Girl» by Uriah Hamilton

There is no way to explain
Unending sorrow and grief,
No way to kiss a young girl’s cheek
In a way that would give her back
The joy death has stolen.

Humans are brave enough
To live and bleed and die,
But to be the one remaining
As others say goodbye
Is too much to withstand.

There are evil stars that smirk
And thus mark us for treacherous fates,
The days all burn like desert fields
Until there is nothing left to love
And nothing left to feel.

***

«To The Sad Moon» by Sir Philip Sidney

With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What! May it be that even in heavenly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?
Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel’st a lover’s case:
I read it in thy looks; thy languished grace
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deemed there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet
Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?
Do they call ‘virtue’ there— ungratefulness?

***

«Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines» by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, ‘The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.’

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Anothers. She will be another’s. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these are the last verses that I write for her.

***

«Tulips» by Sylvia Plath

The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here.
Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in.   
I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly
As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands.   
I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.   
I have given my name and my day-clothes up to the nurses   
And my history to the anesthetist and my body to surgeons.

They have propped my head between the pillow and the sheet-cuff   
Like an eye between two white lids that will not shut.
Stupid pupil, it has to take everything in.
The nurses pass and pass, they are no trouble,
They pass the way gulls pass inland in their white caps,
Doing things with their hands, one just the same as another,   
So it is impossible to tell how many there are.

My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water
Tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing them gently.
They bring me numbness in their bright needles, they bring me sleep.   
Now I have lost myself I am sick of baggage——
My patent leather overnight case like a black pillbox,   
My husband and child smiling out of the family photo;   
Their smiles catch onto my skin, little smiling hooks.

I have let things slip, a thirty-year-old cargo boat   
stubbornly hanging on to my name and address.
They have swabbed me clear of my loving associations.   
Scared and bare on the green plastic-pillowed trolley   
I watched my teaset, my bureaus of linen, my books   
Sink out of sight, and the water went over my head.   
I am a nun now, I have never been so pure.

I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free——
The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,
And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets.
It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them   
Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.   

The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me.
Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe   
Lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby.   
Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds.
They are subtle : they seem to float, though they weigh me down,   
Upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their color,   
A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck.

Nobody watched me before, now I am watched.   
The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me
Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins,   
And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow   
Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips,   
And I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself.   
The vivid tulips eat my oxygen.

Before they came the air was calm enough,
Coming and going, breath by breath, without any fuss.   
Then the tulips filled it up like a loud noise.
Now the air snags and eddies round them the way a river   
Snags and eddies round a sunken rust-red engine.   
They concentrate my attention, that was happy   
Playing and resting without committing itself.

The walls, also, seem to be warming themselves.
The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals;   
They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat,   
And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes
Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.
The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea,
And comes from a country far away as health.

***

«Unconditionally Painful In Love» by Jasmine S. Johnson

This pain is taking its toll,
But my love it never gets old.
The trials and defeated emotions
Keeping me sane with magical potions.
The heart that keeps my blood flowing,
That pain that keeps me down but going.
If the pain leaves and love stays,
How would life be for me?
Would I have a hole in my heart
Where hurt and pain used to be?
Is there a way out of this
Loving, painful misery?
Is there a way into this
Love that I have failed or neglected to receive?
Is this love?
Unconditionally loving you is
Bringing me pain,
But it keeps me sane because I have you.
Am I kidding myself?
Am I in denial that you love me back?
Am I just a dream away from reality?
Am I making believe that I love you?
I think not…
But pain keeps me going.
My heart keeps my blood flowing.
You keep my life glowing.
Jesus keeps me believing.
My calmness is showing,
But my happiness is hiding
From pain and love.
I unconditionally, painfully love you.

***

«Walking Away» by Vanessa Brown

I’m tired of dreaming.
I’m through with trying.
Tired of living, yet scared of dying.
Maybe things are good for you,
but look at all that I’ve been through.
Look at all the pain I’ve won.
I bet you think that it’s been fun.
You never thought I’d turn away.
You never believed you’d see this day.
Look again because here I go,
leaving behind all I know.
Changing it all as I must do.
Not daring to stop and think things through.
Wanting to run as fast as I can,
not stopping until I understand.
Like why did I let things get this way?
Why didn’t I leave yesterday?
How are things going to be
since there is no more you and me?

***

«We Wear The Mask» by Paul Laurence Dunbar

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
       We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
       We wear the mask!

 

***

«What I Miss» by Thalia Jones

I miss how we used to be,
So vibrant, so honest, so wild and free.

I miss the way you would understand,
Listen carefully and be there when I needed a hand.

I miss our long, random talks at night,
Our private conversations,
Our silly little fights.

I miss the way you could read my mind,
Know what to say,
When words were hard to find.

I miss the way you could brighten my day,
Make me forget the mistakes,
Make the pain go away.

I miss how you made me laugh,
Hate how you made me cry,

Loved how you said you would always be there,
But once again, I forgot that everything you say is a lie.

***

«When I Have Fears» by John Keats

When I have fears that I may cease to be
   Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,
   Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,
   Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
   Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
   That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
   Of unreflecting love—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

***

«When Is It Time?» by Kit McCallum

When is it time to say goodbye,
To all the love I’ve known,
When is it time to end your pain,
And leave me all alone?

I’ve watched you on your good days when
I feel your strength renewed;
But shortly after little ups,
The down days then ensue.

We ride this roller-coaster of
Emotions as we try,
To make it through another day,
And yet, I can’t deny …

That as I look into your face
On days that have been bad,
I see a look that beckons me
It’s tired, and hurt, and sad.

The little spark I used to see
Behind those loving eyes,
Is growing ever clouded
By life’s cruel inhumane side.

I try to see beyond the pain
You feel with every step;
And softly whisper to myself
This may get better yet.

If I can bear to watch you
Just another day or two;
I justify my reasons to
Ensure I cling to you.

For letting go is harder for
The person left behind;
It means that if I let you go,
I cannot turn back time.

Back to the days I long for now,
When you were full of life;
And every day held promise,
And our futures, clear and bright.

But now the lights are darkening …
We take it daily now;
I cannot see our futures clear
Or think beyond this cloud.

I think the hardest part in this
Is never knowing why,
I have to be courageous
And I have to say goodbye.

For if I let myself admit
It’s time to let you go;
I’d have to face reality
Without you … but I know …

That soon I have to face the
Final outcome that I dread,
And holding on will only serve
To hurt you in the end.

You’ve given such unselfish love
For all our time in life,
But if I hold too tightly,
You’ll not move t’ward the light …

On to a better life, where you
Can once again be free,
Of all the pain and discomfort
That holds you here to me.

So if I find the courage just to say
This last farewell,
I hope you will forgive me for
The time it took me; still …

I’ll hold with me, the memories
That in my heart remain,
Pray one day, down the road a’ways
… They’ll lesson my own pain.

***

«Where Do I Go» by Lisa Grifin

Where do I go
When I’m feeling so lost and I don’t want to be found?
When I’m looking and listening for that peace in my heart.
But I know I’ll never hear that sound.
Where do I go?
Where do I go when I’m trying to laugh but all I can do I cry?
I’m trying to keep on living because I’m not ready to die.
Where do I go because the sun never seems to shine?
Can you give me my life back’ it’s not yours, it’s mine?
How do I keep going, how do I fight this fight?
I’m tired of feeling beat down, but I’m trying with all my might!
Where do I go when my head hangs so low?
Please give me an answer because I just don’t know!
Where do I go?
Does it take very long
For me to find that peace and a place where I belong?
I need you to help me, help me to take a stand.
I’m scared to do it by myself; will you please take my hand?
Where do I go? Where do I go? Where do I go?
Do you know?

***

«Why Do I?» by Liza Marie

Why do I smile at the sound of your voice?
Why do I let you take over me as if I had no choice?
Why do I let you touch me in places never touched?
Why do I like to have you around so much?

Why do I melt at the tenderness of your kiss?
Why do I feel like I could live forever like this?
Why do I put my heart in your hands?
Why do I answer to your every demand?

Why do I tell you leaving me is not your wrong?
Why do I let you know with out you I’m not quite as strong?
Why do I take you back even though I know it’s not right?
Why do I feel like I should please you by not putting up a fight?

Why do I care about you even though you hurt me?
Why do I turn my head from what’s plain reality?
Why do I try to hide from what is true?
Why do I still have these feelings for you?

***

«Why Is Mommy Crying» by Steven Solis

I watch as mommy cries sitting there all alone
When she falls asleep she cuddles to the phone
I ask why all the tears, why all the sorrow
I then hug her, tell her dad will be back tomorrow
I must say something wrong, she cries even more
Everything I say I make the tears pour
Maybe I don’t hug her enough, maybe love I lack
Maybe she’s right – daddy is never coming back

***

«Winter Among the Spirits» by Chris Yandle

Whispering beneath the frozen branches of a depressed and subtle wonder,
lies a simple explanation for all our questions,
for all our problems.

Spirits of old, spirits of new,
masquerade around in heavenly forms without a sound,
without a mention of an earthly movement.

Discover what can be captured
by one quick glance proven to be remarkable,
proven to be a creation of the Father.

A sudden warmth overcomes you;
a disruptive consequence for beholding its glory,
beholding the glory of a beautiful collage of nature and wintry occasions.

Hidden between your imagination afar,
an impressing affliction that causes something more than pain,
something that you can’t describe.

***

«Winter Stars» by Sara Teasdale

I went out at night alone;
  The young blood flowing beyond the sea
Seemed to have drenched my spirit’s wings—
  I bore my sorrow heavily.

But when I lifted up my head
  From shadows shaken on the snow,
I saw Orion in the east
  Burn steadily as long ago.

From windows in my father’s house,
  Dreaming my dreams on winter nights,
I watched Orion as a girl
  Above another city’s lights.

Years go, dreams go, and youth goes too,
   The world’s heart breaks beneath its wars,
All things are changed, save in the east
  The faithful beauty of the stars.

***

«Writing Sad Things For Sweet Men» by Lauren Michaels

I’d think it a sign from the gods I think
If I were a little bit less of a cynic.
Tonight something broke in the back of my mind
And in the noise of the shower I cried and

Wailed I suppose.
I think I’m a little bit lost.

I fell to my knees, its cliched but its true.
It felt like hours before I stood up.
Sitting thinking, the water long cold.
Of tomorrow and tomorrow and

Quailed I suppose.
I think I’m a little bit lost.

And treatise after treatise came filtering by
balancing all in mind and in time
I wondered where my buoyancy was
But that ships long

Sailed I suppose
I think I’m a little bit lost.

Funny you should mention Bright eyes
Funny that tonight I begged for help
From my condensation white tile ceiling.
And sat down to find a poem waiting.

I once promised a gentleman I’d write him a poem
But he beat me to it twice over
(several times over if truth be known, I don’t think he knows
What he Gives)

***

«You are who you are for a reason» by Russell Kelfer

You are who you are for a reason.
You’re part of an intricate plan.
You’re a precious and perfect unique design,
Called God’s special woman or man.

You look like you look for a reason.
Our God made no mistake.
He knit you together within the womb,
You’re just what he wanted to make.

The parents you had were the ones he chose,
And no matter how you may feel,
They were custom designed with God’s plan in mind,
And they bear the Master’s seal.

No, that trauma you faced was not easy.
And God wept that it hurt you so;
But it was allowed to shape your heart
So that into his likeness you’d grow.

You are who you are for a reason,
You’ve been formed by the Master’s rod.
You are who you are, beloved,
Because there is a God!

***

«You May Feel Sad For Yourself» by Francis Duggan

You may feel sad for yourself though you have a roof over your head
And you do not lack comfort in your comfortable bed
And you don’t lack for nourishment with lots of good food to eat
You are not one of the millions who are homeless on the street
Of the poorest street of the poor suburb those who struggle to survive
And only their desire for life seems to keep them alive
They sleep in disused factories infested by rodents and fleas
Places not fit for homeless dogs to live in and breeding grounds for disease
Or on concrete park benches or by the parkland trees
Without shelter from the elements the rain and the cold breeze
You may feel depressed and lonely from the World you’d like to hide
And though you may feel down at present with lady luck not on your side
Compared to millions you are lucky you are not homeless on the street
And you’ve got a nice home to live in and more than enough to drink and eat.

***

«You Were My Everything» by Joanna Fuchs

You were my everything;
Now you’re gone.
I don’t have the strength
To carry on.

Skies always seemed sunny
When you were here;
Now there’s nothing but gloom
In my atmosphere.

I loved you so much;
You were all I had;
Now my whole world
Is depressing and sad.

I’d like to start feeling
Other than blue,
But you were my everything,
What can I do?

***

«Your Heart Is So Sad» by Jolanta Gradowicz

Your heart is so painful and sad,
You can’t find any consolation,
Things seem to be hopeless and bad,
Everything you need is isolation…

But your soul likes the sweet silence
When it leaves all the joys of the world.
Your tired thoughts try to find balance,
The air still remains undisturbed…

You are grateful for the blessed moment
And despise everything except the holy peace.
Your sad heart is serene and patient,
Your soul fills with God’s grace and bliss…