These Loss Abc poems are examples of Abc poems about Loss. These are the best examples of Loss Abc poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
A yearn… simply something that you want or long for. As a yearn to finish, a yearn to achieve, a yearn for a like, a yearn for a smile is something that you drastically want, a desire. Something that you spend long hours, nights even day dreaming hours thinking about how you can earn that smile. What can you do…. or what can you say … things such as a conversation sparks, likes even dislikes, mostly anything that will crack a smile. These are things that truly show signs of something far greater than fame, sex, money, power. What is it? Something more than I have yet to find. So as I search for the answer I over shoot the entrance with rapid thinking of what she wants, her likes, her dislikes. But truly it will only be earned by who you are, what you want to be, yourself, your feelings your desires, your yearn. So when you yearn for that smile or that special something it can only be earned by being you, no one else. Take a look at yourself in the mirror and try to see past the makeup or tan or piercing and just look at yourself… then take that image and imprint it to yourself forever because to find happiness and your yearn can only be earned one way. Trying to watch her and she how she reacts to certain things just to make myself seem better when I finally open my mouth to her will only make you distant from that special someone. With me I personally see myself as buff pierced orange person, while trying to continue to follow the people who I look up to the most. So as you struggle and go through life’s trials and tribulations always look at your yearn or what it once it what was. Think about how you felt when you failed or succeeded and try to make yourself a better person from it. Not by adding more glamour or appeal to yourself but by being closer to yourself. What you really are. Because only then can you truly say you earned your yearn of a smile or that special someone, even if there not with you, apart of them will be and that’s the part they left. The part that made you better. More complete. So never forget your yearn of her..
The soldier boy was sitting calmly underneath that tree,
As I approached it, I could see him beckoning to me.
The battle had been long and hard and lasted through the night
And scored of figured on the ground lay still by mornings light.
"I wonder if you'd help me, sir", he smiled as best he could.
"A sip of water on this morn would surely do me good.
We fought all day and fought all night with scarcely any rest-
A sip of water for I have a small pain in my chest."
As I looked at him, I could see the large stain on his shirt
All reddish-brown from his warm blood mixed with dirt.
"Not much", he said."I count myself more lucky that the rest
They're all gone while I just have a small pain in my chest."
"Must be fatigue", he weakly smiled. "I must be getting old.
I see the sun is shinning bright and yet I'm feeling cold.
We climbed the hill two-hundred strong, but as we cleared the crest,
The night exploded and I felt this small pain in my chest."
I looked around to get some aid-the only things I found
Were big, deep craters in the earth-bodies on the ground.
"I kept on firing at them sir. I tried to do my best,
But finally I sat down with this small pain in my chest."
"What would my wife be thinking of her man so strong and grown,
If she could see me sitting here, too weak to stand alone?
Could my mother have imagined, as she held me to her breast,
That I'd be sitting here one day with this pain in my chest?"
"Can it be getting dark so soon?" He winced up at the sun.
"Its growing dim and I thought that the day had just begun.
I think, before I travel on, I'll get a bit of rest.....
And, quietly, the boy died from that small pain in his chest.
I don't recall what happened then. I think I must have cried
I put my arms around him and pulled him to my side
And, as I held him to me, I could feel our wounds were pressed
The large one in my heart against the small one in his chest.
I'm gonna draw a picture
A picture with a twist
I'll draw it with a razor blade
I'll draw it on my wrist
As I draw this picture
A fountain will appear
And as that fountain flows
My troubles disappear
Tell me it isn't true
That he didn't hurt you too
Tell me that your not crying
Please tell me your lying
Why I ask you
Why I say
Why should this happen today
Onlt 13 years
Now we shead 13 tears
Will my soul recover
My days and nights gets longer
Wondering if my days will get shorter
Feeling my heart getting heavy
The wish to hear his voice is driving me crazy
In loving memory Christopher Monte' Rivera
yes, I am lonely enough to die;
lonely enough to cry;
lonely enough to ask Myself 'why'?
yes, I am lonely enough to say goodbye!
Everybody wants to live forever;
its what i wanted never;
the thing i wanted ever;
but nobody loved me like forever.
Nobody wants to die;
Nobody wants to cry;
its Me who wanted this all to try;
and thats the reason why every second i die!
Its the most difficult thing to realize,
when you yourself wants to be killed by a knife;
is it really swift to live such a life;
NO! as you know you have to be wise!
Can't even attempt something like suicide;
cause my religion is still walking beside.
its makes me feel scared side by side,
what if i died and nobody cried!
Still there is something to which I am tied;
but umpteen times i have lied;
and umpteen times i have cried;
as i really not find this world wide.
As I told you i never was clever;
so now I am saying GOODBYE FOREVER!
Take me with you when I go.
When I'm laid to rest beneath the blades of grass,
A marble stone to mark my place.
Don't stop too long to grieve for me.
Go forward with your dreams;
Find your place in this world.
On your wedding day, look within;
You'll see me there.
I'll have a smile, a hope, a tear of joy.
When your child is born,
take a moment to pause
to be with me.
I'll be there with pride.
I'll share your pain.
Think of me along the way.
Take me with you when I go.
By William P. Darnell Sr.
I was there
On my way to Laflin when the 55th and Garfield bus slowed down.
He should have been passed out from excitement like other 10 year olds playing
football in vacant lots,basketball in streets, and baseball with wooden sticks.
Instead on his way to gas station
collar bone caught bullet like a bleeding brown mitt.
He never made it to first base safe, he never made it home.
I sat there in blue and black CTA seats
and I wished he was struck by a
be-be, paint ball, or tranquilizer gun
but no they simply snatched back cocked metal and released.
He lied there surrounded
face had grazed grass
and when his mother saw him she wished she could resist what purples saw.
with a certificate to prove his end.
She pawed at his white outline
pleading he would breath life, but when i didn't she wept.
I was restricted to step off bus and on to pavement,
so i had to let my eyes listen
to how blue lights and smudged tears didn't compliment the tragedy.
I mean I was stuck to scene because of the caution tape
and the ambulance
and the way his stretcher jumped as he was being taken to the morgue.
Pedestrians though it was over until they fled like that little boys mother when she
heard her sons blood had been scrambled on the boulevard.
Police mans knees blasted to chest as they chased for blocks ones who failed to
follow: THOU SHALL NOT KILL!
I kept riding past Halsted then on to Racine finally came to Laflin stepped off bus,
looked at the bullet whole in the street sign then asked
what is the purpose of you holding hand high and think u have the right to kill.
Don’t put your view all are blind
They can’t see ten or nine
They have determined they can find
Solution is already all know shrine
Bereave is not necessity it always dawns
Scarce barks all the day as unwelcome guest
Put your disguise on your veil
All viewed your deceitful hay
Shame on you for being that that
Looting always day by day
Poor creatures are suffocating
Swallowing your poisonous play.
Bitter by ; being mentally bruised and battered most of my life,
shaken with fright without a single soul to help me
through the troubles unseen horrors of the night,
from an evil source that I fear to strike.
But as the evil forces, who limited my choices
that when I found my stallion horses.
Swiftly it came to my head I can run and I cannot hide,
feeling the Beast closing in on every time I decide to hide.
Tired of running and tired of alluding this
relentless creep as my red bolt eyes weep
feeling rest-less, likes a lonely defeated warrior from his home in retreat
that is when I knew it time to rest, to release my Beast.
But in a fight, I may not win however as I cast out my dirty words sin
I made sure it felt my impact, to the bloody end.
by Keith Relf
The HEART WANTS what the HEART WANTS,
People say "Listen to your HEART."
But what if you can't HEAR it?
Your MIND wants all these other things,
and then you CAN'T HEAR your HEART.
I sit and CLEAR my MIND
I sit LISTENING to my HEART
BUT it SAYS NOTHING
it BEATS to NOTHING
What am i suppose to do now?
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