Loss Poems | Examples of Loss Poetry

their faces, their laughs, the echoes of our past never leave they hide beneath the cover of everyday life, waiting for that moment when the mood drops and the days turn wet and gloomy. they appear again, just outside my line of sight, whispering memories of everything we ever did together. my mind tells me they’re gone to let go, to move on. i tell you, i tell myself: until...

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My chest holds echoes none can hear, A hush of thoughts that won’t appear. What once was warm now drifts like mist, A weight unseen, too dense to lift. Each fracture blooms a quieter scar, Where bitter seeds still grow afar. No shore, no flame, no sense of tide— Just vacant halls I roam inside. By day I wear a borrowed face, By night...

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She left no echo, made no sound, Just folded time without a frown. No curtain call, no loud applause— Just grace departing without pause. A hand once warm now gently still, A final breath, a resting will. And yet, her presence lingers on— In morning light and dusk till dawn. Soft is the way the faithful part— A silent hymn within the heart. No need...

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They bore the winds of time as they rose from arid lands. They sun poked past one peak while my work crew waited to move to another place on the highway, and we knew the day would fade. We knew highways must always be mended and the same with our lives. We spoke in hushed voices among these hills made when the earth shifted. Somewhere beyond rested a...

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Coming back home, after a long stint south, I passed the blue sign on the turnpike that reads “Massachusetts Welcomes You.” Under the “Welcomes,” some Mayflower blooms, And a chickadee perches there, under the ‘You.” I’d seen this bird busying our woods as a boy, Seen its black helmet with small streaks of white, Flitting from thickets to rest on a branch, Or...

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When something is missing, when someone is gone, there is no light It’s not just the absence of sunshine, not just a starlight deceit It’s more like the aching of pain and sensation, the darkness burns ...

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Things Missing Somewhere in This House My birth bertificate… A box of needed, new bank checks… Both of our wedding rings… My Waterman fountain pen… After 4 decades, at least 3 doz. of Jim’s odd socks & 2 doz. Of mine… 2 Roku remotes, 1 somewhere upstairs & 1 here downstairs… (Worrying) The hand-written letters I received from...

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I am from sitting in the front row church pew I never wanted to be in twice. The genuine smiles in the photos on the memory board were oh-so-different from The ones we plastered on at the American Legion and the Irish pub There we gulped bottomless Shirley Temples and spent twenty dollars on darts. All to distract ourselves...

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Soft heart can tell the silent dark sky's heat, Red eyes might grow tough to handle mettle... That Is how small the mind could be to beat. Finger might flip up hints to pure deceit, Somewhat so close to Cain's stunt on Abel; Soft heart can tell the silent dark sky's heat. Alcohol could have actualised such treat, Upon rage within, ever...

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Good-bye… Simply a word? What essence is encased Within this single utterance? The alchemy of optimism? The enigma of uncertainty? Good-bye… A blend of hope and the unseen? Fracturing moments of farewell? Aromatic vows dissipating In the fluxes of fate? The chiaroscuro of existence? Good-bye… A poet's silent elegy Where love, loss, and longing Converge and dissolve? A kaleidoscope of emotions, promises Distilled into a single breath? Good-bye… ...

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as a child i often found myself participating in sadistic activities. i felt my sins rotting into my body- into my soul as-well my veins. it kept my blood pumping throughout my body that i did neglect. i protested against consuming meals as if they’d make me feel holy again, sick i was. the blood that clawed out...

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A flag draped box on titanium stand Bears all that remains of a noble man A father’s pride, a mother’s grief A widow’s tears without relief A son whose memories begin to fade As the soldier is solemnly laid The torment a brief eternity Brought by war infernally Driven by other men’s desires We raise yet more funeral pyres And watch again our young men...

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A tribute to "STARGAZER" by Ronnie James Dio Where are you in the constellation Where do we fit in the whip-chained nation Towers of stone and flesh and bone Can’t bring the sun from the shadow Won’t save the sun from the shadow And time has no meaning As the dead are all leaving Leaving all the living behind Their voices echo in...

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after 'Berck-Plage' by Sylvia Plath (1) A sheet of glass, this expanse of water. How its tranquillity mocks my unrest. Bloated beachballs and balloons travel the park and float from diminutive hands. Bodiless voices call in the sun and bounce off these sizzling surfaces. It is not surprising I wear cool clothing and masquerade serenity. Swollen laburnum pods harbour their horror - wombs cradling their malignancies. Such...

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longevity... a natural proclivity of the mind the want... the desire to live a long... prosperous life basking in rays of sunshine... though even in the midst of life's strife's we dig our heels in and deal with life's spills... in hushed awareness we know one day the curtain will close our sun will set in our medley of...

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